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silentchubority · 3 years

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Plump Prison: Part 1

Donnie had been a big fan of prison shows, and now he wished he hadn’t been. Knowing every small detail of the dramatized version of prison sent his brain into a sequence of nightmares and worse case scenarios because he, the hard-working nice guy, was on his way to prison.

When Donnie left his parents’ home in Florida to go to college in Georgia, he thought nothing of his address. After graduating college with high grades and an engineering degree, he got a job in Atlanta but kept his parents’ mailing address for convenience. It wasn’t until he was in court for tax evasion and address fraud that he even thought about the possible consequences.

At 6 feet tall, Donnie had always been... pleasantly plump, he preferred to say. About two-thirty when he arrived at college, he crept up just past two-fifty by graduation. Sitting all day doing engineering homework didn’t help, but he didn’t mind it. He just thought of himself as a soft, huggable guy, still attractive and dateable. But then when he realized his charges might actually carry some serious consequences, he learned what stress eating was. Solid but “not fat” Donnie quickly gained weight during his trial and ultimate conviction. He didn’t know what his weight was now, he could just tell by the way his clothes felt. They just kept getting slightly tighter, but he didn’t care. His belly sat on his lap just a little during the car ride. His parents insisted on driving him there to say goodbye. He was going to jail. It was so surreal that nothing else mattered.

Zoned out, contemplating his life and future possibilities, he hadn’t even realized that they had arrived at the prison until the car stopped and he felt his slightly larger chest shake. “Let’s get this over with,” he said to his parents. His mom would not stop crying, and his dad showed the most emotion Donnie had ever seen. Dear God, it’s only two months, Donnie wanted to say. He finally got away from his parents, an odd relief considering where he was headed, and so started the movie scenes he was all too familiar with.

They sent him into a room with a medical-looking guard that turned out to be the cavity search. “Clothes off, fat ass,” another guard ordered sternly. Fat ass? He had never been made fun of for his weight, but apparently his recent weight gain put him into that territory. He wanted to build a good relationship with the guards, if possible, so he just put all his belongings, including clothes, in something that looked like an airport x-ray tray, and immediately the guard yelled “Now bend over!” It was so cold in the room that his penis was fully shrunk. As he bent over and put his hands on a chair, he felt his chest and stomach start to shake with the abrupt stop. “At least this extra pudge is keeping me warm,” he thought. Not so fast. The medical-looking guard sat behind him and quickly globbed some equally cold lube on his anus. Donnie felt a shiver run through his body. Before he could even calm his body down, he felt a latex glove slip firmly inside him, dragging with it the cold goo.

His whole body clenched, and he could feel his slightly hanging stomach and chest move as the muscles beneath them flexed. Donnie was straight and had had a few unfulfilling relationships during college, but chose to focus on his work for the few years since then. He had some gay acquaintances, or almost-friends, but nobody close enough for him to ask his straight man questions to: “Doesn’t anal sex just hurt?” That question was no longer applicable. Breathing heavily, Donnie realized his hole had opened quite easily for the two fingers doing reconnaissance inside him. At a few points, it might have actually felt good. He was too cold and violated to pass judgement. He did know that many men, including straight men, acknowledge that prostate stimulation feels great. Maybe he’d leave prison a little more sexually adventurous. He half scoffed and half looked forward to that, but it felt too cliche.

“All done. No contraband,” the officer said as he ripped off the glove and threw it into the garbage. Donnie wanted to make a joke about how many guys the officer had done that to, but thought it best to get to know the guards before trying sexual humor.

Donnie stood up as the meaner one snapped “What size clothes, faggot?”

Another insult Donnie had never been called. He brushed it off. “Um, XL shirt and thirty-eight pants,” he lied, but he did wear a thirty-eight in some brands still. He hoped the prison clothes ran big.

“This isn’t a mall,” the guard responded. “XL!” he yelled through a mail slot on the wall. After a few seconds, some orange clothes shot through the hole on onto the floor. Yep, bright orange, just like on TV. “Get dressed,” the forceful demands of simple tasks continued.

Donnie skidded his feet over to where the clothes had landed. Something about receiving his first anal experience made him feel like he couldn’t walk normally. Why did this guard have to be so rude? Officer Harris, his pin read.

He grabbed the pile of clothes, found the extra large boxers, pulled them up over his round cheeks, and felt some of the lube wet the fabric. Gross. Now I have to sit in cold wetness for a few hours, he thought. But then he felt an unexpected, similarly cold sensation on the other side. His penis had gone through the hole in the front of the boxers, and was fully exposed to the cold room. He quickly went from embarrassed to calm. After all, everyone in the room had just seen literally everything. And then regressed to mortified when he realized he was erect. Tiny and shriveled from the cold, but rock hard and erect.

That’s why they had called him faggot! “I’m not... This isn’t normal. I didn’t like it. I’m straight. Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Get dressed!“ screamed Officer Harris.

Donnie tried to adjust his shrunken ball sack and boner to get inside the boxers. Not only was his erection the problem, he realized the extra large boxers weren’t large enough. The boxers were pulled so tight around his butt cheeks that it caused the hole at the front to be open permanently. But he didn’t want to complain to the guard who had just yelled at him, so he quickly grabbed the pants and shirt and threw them on.

Oh no, he thought. The clothes didn’t fit. The orange pants were tight from his mid-quads all the way up to the elastic waistband, comically so. He was surprised they even fit without ripping. The shirt didn’t seem bad, but then he looked down and realized that any little movement was causing his torso to be partially exposed. Even in most standing positions, the bottom of his little belly was showing, just barely hanging, covering not even a centimeter of his waist. “I think I need the next size up,” Donnie said.

With a hint of humanity in his face, Harris leaned back toward the hole the clothes came out of and screamed “Can we get a double XL?” And then they waited.

Donnie kept trying to pull down his shirt and slightly move in the pants, hoping they would stretch out. No luck. About a minute later, a voice answered. “XL is the biggest we have right now!”

“Sorry, chubs. You’re gonna have to deal with this,” said Officer Harris, with a bit more compassion. “Keep it movin’,” he said, pointing toward the next door.

Donnie walked through and realized it was where he would get photographed, measured, and fingerprinted for easy future identification. The mug shot and finger prints went easily enough. He had never been embarrassed about his body or weight, but it was uncomfortable to get weighed in clothes that were too small after what was surely a lot of weight gain in a short time. “How much do you weigh?” asked a new guard.

“Um...” Donnie wasn’t sure what to say. “two sixty,” he guessed finally.

The guard looked at him with a disbelieving side eye and turned to the old school scale with the two sliding pieces. She threw the bigger slider to two-fifty and the smaller one to fifteen. “Hop on,” she said, as if it was too much work for her. The right side of the scale shot upward. Donnie was relieved. That guard thought he was lying about his weight, but he was less than two sixty-five! But she wasn’t even looking at the scale. Donnie hadn’t noticed that the scale also measured height. The guard slapped down the flat stick on top of his head. “Five eleven,” she said as she wrote.

“Oh, I’m six foot,” said Donnie, wondering why he was suddenly concerned about his height.

“Alright... stand up straight,” she said, unamused. She reset the contraption and set it back down on his head, slightly gentler this time. “Still five eleven. You can claim six with shoes on, alright?” Then she folded up the height measurement and moved onto the weight. Donnie was relieved he hadn’t gained more than fifteen pounds during his trial. She started sliding the indicator right, toward the heavier numbers. Donnie was confused. The scale said he weighed less than two sixty-five, but she was pushing it as if he weighed more.

It passed two seventy-five. He wondered if he should tell her she was wrong or just keep his mouth shut. Again, for the sake of making a good impression, he wasn’t going to correct her. But she kept pushing it heavier.

He thought for a minute. The goal of these scales was to balance... so if the right side of the scale moved upward, the indicator did need to move to higher numbers. She wasn’t wrong, he was! It passed two eight-five.

He was in such disbelief that he had even gained fifteen pounds, but she was right, and he had gained much more. It passed two ninety-five. But just barely. Two hundred and ninety-seven pounds.

“As if I wasn’t going to find out you were lying,” she snapped, obviously angry. “You’re just wasting my fuckin’ time by lying by forty pounds.”

Being nice and honest had always worked in Donnie’s favor. He wanted to continue that with the guards in hopes of as pleasant a stay as possible. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Last time I weighed myself, I was two fifty,” he explained.

The guard quickly glanced down at his tight clothes. “Yeah... I believe you. You’re fine. Move on to the next window and tell them your shoe size.”

He was in a weird place. Not thinking about prison or his life afterwards. He kept thinking “How did I gain forty-seven pounds in three months?” He must have gained some weight before the trial stress weight, he concluded. He used to think three hundred was so big, but here he was, closer to three hundred than two ninety, and he didn’t feel big. Maybe he was a bit judgemental about people over three hundred pounds, but now he realized he shouldn’t be.

“Hey, uh... Donnie! One more thing,” the guard caught him right before he passed the doorway. “That puts you at a BMI of forty-two point five, morbidly obese. That means you get a doctor visit. He’ll be here next week, and you’ll have an appointment.”

Of course, Donnie thought. He still didn’t think he was that big, but apparently he was now “morbidly obese.” Morbidly obese?! Doctors are so judgemental, they have to assign ridiculous medical names to the pleasantly plump, he told himself with a little laugh.

He got his shoe size right on the first try, and then they threw some bedding at him and escorted him through a few locked doors until he was actually in prison. He followed a guard to his cell, which wasn’t really a cell at all. Most of the “cells” he was were permanently open, he supposed for prisoners that weren’t violent. He was in no rush to do anything, so he made his bed as slowly as his body wanted. His shirt rode up with every movement, exposing his love handles and belly to the cold air in the prison. As if losing his freedom wasn’t enough, he also had to be oddly cold in certain parts of his body during most parts of the day.

KRRRRRRR! A bell rang and Donnie jumped so hard his shirt rode up past his belly button. Luckily, nobody was around except the guard who had shown him to his bed, who was clearly amused. Donnie grabbed his little XL shirt and pulled it down. “What was that? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it means it’s time for lunch,” the guard explained.

Lunch! Donnie had forgotten about eating entirely. He was consumed by his despair. But food sounded amazing right now. Should I watch the food a little after finding out I’m forty-seven pounds heavier than I thought? he wondered. No, he didn’t look that different than he did at twenty-two years old, and he wasn’t going to let a little baby fat withhold from him what was likely to be his sole pleasure here in prison. “Where’s the cafeteria?” he asked, trying not to seem too eager.

The guard walked him to the cafeteria, which wasn’t far from Donnie’s bed, but it was anything but appetizing. There was a distinct smell of food, but not a good smell, and this was the first time he had seen any of the other prisoners. The way they looked at him, he knew the prison was small enough for them to recognize the new people immediately. With his little belly peaking out, he knew he had to exude confidence. He walked at an intentionally medium pace, with a little more movement than he normally walked with, toward the start of the food line.

It appeared that there were no choices. He got some green mush with rice, some red mush with yellow chunks, some soup that was mostly broth, and a dinner roll. Perhaps his hunger was to his favor, because this looked like possibly the least flavorful meal he would ever eat, but he was still excited for it, even though he wished he could have twice as much, or more.

He reminded himself to use his swagger, and walked to the emptier side of the cafeteria and sat down alone. He didn’t want to seem too interested in finding friends, and maybe he could be a silent loner. Officer Harris, the guard who saw his boner, was watching over the cafeteria nearby, so Donnie tried not to look at him. He adjusted his shirt to hide his love handles as best he could, realizing that sticking the front hem of his shirt under his belly would keep it in place better. And then he went to town on his food.

The red mush wasn’t great, but he actually liked the green mush, and the salty water with a slice of celery that they called soup was good enough. He was savoring the roll for the end, because it was the only thing that looked like actual food.

Before he could get to his roll, he realized a prisoner was talking to Officer Harris, and then the prisoner turned to walk toward Donnie. He was probably ten years older than Donnie, slightly taller, and slightly heavier, but much more muscular. Donnie was terrified, but he just told himself not to be. He shouldn’t be, right? The guards wouldn’t allow anything bad to happen, surely. Right?

The man sat down and looked at Donnie. He was covered in tattoos and had a chest so big and hairy it was crawling through the hole in his shirt, which you could barely see because of his large, shapely beard.

“I’m Loren,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Donnie.” He made sure to shake hands firmly, only to still feel weak and timid compared to the muscular older man.

“Do you like the bread?” He asked. Donnie thought he was about to be robbed of his lunch money, or his lunch, he supposed. So the hazing and mistreatment would begin.

Forgetting to inflate his confidence, Donnie reverted to his honest, kind nature. “I was actually saving that for last, but I don’t like the red stuff.”

“Ah, perfect!” The man exclaimed, seeming a whole lot nicer in that second. “I hate the roll and love the red stuff. Wanna trade?”

“Of course!” Donnie had never felt such a friendship with anyone so quickly at work, so it seemed too good to be true in jail. Donnie poured the red stuff from his tray onto the man’s and then the man traded his roll in return. Donnie wasn’t sure if he should inspect it for safety, but wasn’t going to do that then and there. “What’s the catch?” He said, remembering to regain some of his prison demeanor.

“Not much,” he said in a sincere tone. “Wanna join my gang?”

“No, thanks.” Why did you just say thanks in prison?! Donnie berated himself silently. “I’m not looking to stay in here longer than I need to. I’m hoping to get out early on good behavior.” He took a cautious bite of one of the rolls and it was perfect. Thank God he could look forward to about half the food here.

“Oh, no! Not like that,” The man reacted. “We’re not going to do anything illegal. Gangs in here are more like groups of friends that look out for each other, just in case any shit goes down. And we can trade food, like today,” he laughed.

Donnie was confused. Why would anyone want him to be in his “gang” so quickly? “Why me?”

“Well I’m sure you’ve noticed you’re bigger than most of the guys in here. How much do you weigh?”

Donnie felt a little embarrassed. Was this another person today commenting on his girth? “Two eighty.” Why was he lying? He had no idea.

“Nice. I am lucky enough to be a big guy, too, and you’ll see that you can get a lot of advantages here just because people are scared of you, even if you give them no reason.” he continued.

“Like what?” Donnie wasn’t convinced.

The man stood up, and Donnie felt terrified again. “Come with me. Bring your tray.” They walked back up to the beginning of the line for food, cutting in front of a few guys. “Hey, Austin. I’m gonna take one of everything again, and my new friend Donnie is gonna have two scoops of the spinach and two rolls,” beckoning to Donnie.

“Comin’ right up,” Austin responded as he served both men exactly what they asked for.

When they got back to the table, Donnie felt respected, comfortable, and confused. “Are we allowed to go back for seconds?” he asked.

“No,” he said matter-of-factly, “but I am friendly with all the guys here, and people think I look scary. Those are the benefits big boys get, and we get more if we stick together. It was me and two other guys who recently got out, so I really need to build up my group again, for my own safety. What do you say, Donnie?”

He was kind of surprised a prisoner remembered his name so quickly. “Sounds good. Remind me your name.” Donnie asked sheepishly.

“Loren!”

“Thanks, Loren. And sorry. Though I do remember you said you didn’t like the rolls, so why did you get another one?”

“I don’t,” Loren said with a big smile,” but I remembered that you like the spinach, soup, and roll, so I got ‘em for you.”

Donnie had just finished his two extra helpings of the spinach and rolls, and he shivered realizing his flat tire of a lower abdomen was exposed again. He tucked his shirt under his little overhang and said “Thank you very much, but I shouldn’t.”

“You... shouldn’t?” said Loren, confused.

“Yeah, I’ve gained a lot of weight recently, so I just want to tone it down a bit.” Donnie explained.

“Stop that, man. You look fuckin’ good.” Loren said quickly but confidently.

Was this it? Now it all made sense. Donnie saw Loren talk to that guard and then come over to him immediately. That guard told Loren that Donnie was gay, and that’s why he was inviting him to his “gang.” “Oh, um... thank you, but I’m not intereste... you... Sorry, man, I’m not gay. I know that guard told you I was, but I’m not-”

“Wait, what?” Loren stopped him. “Why would Officer Harris tell me you were gay?”

Donnie was mortified again. “Nevermind!”

“Haha, no! You don’t get to say that and not finish the story!”

Donnie didn’t know what to do. His brain was too overwhelmed to lie. “I got a boner during the cavity search.”

“Ah, nothing to be ashamed of. It happens to plenty of guys, and most of us are straight. It’s the prostate! But I get it. I’m not gay, either, but once you’ve been in here long enough, anything goes. In addition to everything I said about the gang earlier, it’s nice to have some close friends with similar needs who have boobs. No pressure, but we can definitely help each other out whenever you want. I’ll try to keep my sexualized comments to myself. Anyways. Are you gonna eat this or am I throwing it away? You might hate everything for dinner.”

Donnie contemplated having all bad food for dinner. He was full from what was at least double what every other guy got, but he had been consoling himself with food for months, so nothing sounded better than getting a little over-full when he didn’t know when or what he would eat next. “I’ll take it,” Donnie said, relieved.

As he scarfed down the extra food, he was a little uncomfortable with the looks he was getting from Loren, but he didn’t care. He had a friend, or “gang,” and he had good food. When he finished, both of them stood up and Donnie stretched his arms over his head. Maybe prison wasn’t going to be so bad after all. He finished stretching and looked across the table at Loren, who was gawking at Donnie’s belly. His shirt had ridden up to about his rib cage, not that he could see that anymore, exposing his entire belly.

“What size clothes are those?” Loren asked.

“XL,” Donnie said, disliking all the attention his size was getting.

“Come with me, big guy,” Loren demanded. Donnie didn’t know what else to do, so he followed, a little uncomfortable at the assertiveness after the longing gaze. Loren was doing something faster than a speed walk, an awkward semi-gallop through the halls. Donnie didn’t know the building, so he kept asking where they were going and Loren didn’t respond. Finally Donnie saw that they were close to the showers. Donnie started to slow down, but Loren heard and grabbed him by the arm. “Come on!” Loren was even stronger than Donnie expected, and Loren drug all two hundred and ninety-seven pounds of Donnie easily into a part of the showers that was not easily visible from the outside. “Take off your clothes” Loren said, more eager than demanding.

Donnie looked over and realized Loren had a full erection. He was scared. Why was this happening to him? Did he have a safe option to say no? He did as he was told. He took off his too-small XL shirt, then started to pull his way too small XL pants down. He bent over, his cold belly transforming into a few rolls, and slipped his pants off his legs and laid them on the floor, looking at Loren helplessly.

Loren was almost fully naked. He had what looked like a hard big belly, but an even harder and bigger chest. He was bending over to take off his boxers when he realized Donnie wasn’t taking off his. “Boxers, too!” Loren instructed, as Donnie got his first direct glimpse of Loren’s penis.

It was enormous. Donnie didn’t know how he knew it was enormous, as that was the first erection he’d seen outside of pornography in his life. But pornography was the circus of sex, and Loren’s cock was nearly that big. Donnie thought he might die. Sure, his anus took two lubed fingers relatively easily, but there was no way it could take that monster, right? Donnie started to cry. “What are you gonna do to me? Please don’t hurt me.”

“Fuck!” Loren said, clearly angry. “What the fuck do you think?!”

Donnie felt ridiculous explaining the situation that seemed clear to him, but he had to answer the man. “You ran in here. You have a boner. You brought me here to have sex. I told you I’m not gay,” he gasped, trying not to cry too hard.

“No!” Loren said, exasperated. “I told you that I wouldn’t try anything sexual with you unless you wanted to! I’m not a sexual predator just because I have sex with men. Sorry about my boner. You are fuckin’ hot. I ran in here so nobody would see my boner. But I brought you here to trade clothes with you. You’re clearly uncomfortable in those clothes, and mine are two X and a little too big on me. If we get caught trading clothes, we will get in trouble. Do you want the double XL or not?!”

Am I just a privileged jerk and never knew it? Donnie thought. Loren had been nothing but kind and straightforward to him, but Donnie kept assuming the worst. He thought for a second. Did his small clothes bug him that badly? Yes, just because they were uncomfortable and exposed him more to the cold air. “Yes, please. I’m so sorry.”

Loren angrily threw his clothes at Donnie, and Donnie saw that Loren’s erection was already gone. Donnie put on the clothes as quickly as he could. The boxers actually fit and didn’t expose his package. Just then he heard Loren griping, “What the fuck is wet in the ass of these boxers?”

“It’s from the cavity search lube. Sorry.”

Loren laughed. Donnie kept putting on his new clothes as quickly as possible. They fit perfectly. He supposed he was now officially a XXL. Would he need to buy new shirts when he got out? Probably not, he thought. I’ll lose weight because of this nasty food.

He looked over at Loren, who was wearing obviously tighter clothes than before. “Dude, are you okay with this? Those are too small on you!”

Loren smirked. “They were way smaller on you.” Donnie was visibly embarrassed. “Stop that! I told you they looked good on you. The thing is, the pants were too tight on you and the shirt was too short. I have a wider but shorter trunk and I don’t carry as much weight in my legs, so this fits me well, maybe just a little form-fitting, is all. Now let’s get out of the bathroom before guards come asking questions.”

They walked quickly out of the showers and Donnie felt immediate relief. The whole prison felt a comfortable temperature instead of cold. And he had a friend.

“Wanna go work out until dinner?” asked Loren.

Donnie hadn’t “worked out” since PE in high school. But maybe this was good stress relief and he would move back towards his college weight. Plus, the idea of looking more intimidating like Loren was a huge plus in prison. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

Loren led Donnie through a lot of different exercises. The lifts especially were new to Donnie. It was strange to be more oriented to how his body felt for the first time in his life shortly after some weight gain. He could feel his man boobs and belly bouncing during jumping jacks, he realized how much they hung when he did push ups, and his belly got in his way a bit when he did sit ups. He was surprised with how much he lifted. He was naturally strong, and that’s why he was “thick all over,” according to Loren.

And that’s how they lived. When they weren’t doing chores or other mandatory prison labor, they worked out. Loren was always sure to lift at least two eighty on his lifts. “Why two eighty?” asked Donnie, stupidly. “To show you how easily I can throw you around,” Loren answered, reminding Donnie that he had lied about his weight. For breakfast, lunch, and dinner, they ate together, and conveniently, they almost always had opposing tastes on food, so Donnie got double what he wanted, Loren got double what he wanted, and then they went back for seconds, sometimes thirds. I’m gonna be so jacked by the end of this sentence! Donnie thought.

He had been in prison for ten days - he counted carefully - when it was time for his doctors visit. It was scheduled for the time he and Loren usually worked out, so he would have to miss that. Donnie walked in and sat on the patient bed.

“Hi Donnie, I’m Doctor Surrey. I read that I’m seeing you today about your weight?”

What a joke, thought Donnie. After all, he had been working out daily for ten days without any issues. He was in his 20s, now active, and pleasantly plump. He knew he was healthy. “Nice to meet you, Doctor Surrey. Yep, you’re seeing me because I’m morbidly obese.”

“Gotcha. I’m glad we’re on the same page. Could you take off your shirt, please?”

Donnie was comfortable taking off his shirt, especially now that it fit well, but there aren’t a lot of mirrors in prison, let alone opportunities to admire your own body, so he was surprised at how different he felt and looked in the mirror in the doctor’s office.

His chest seemed to hang a bit more, so the bottom hang of his man boobs was about parallel to the floor. Was this just his extra muscle mass? The doctor pushed the stethoscope into his soft pec. “Big deep breath,” he said. Donnie obliged. “Hmm...” The doctor seemed unhappy. He repositioned the stethoscope and pressed a little harder, Donnie’s soft chest pushing up noticeably past the base of the instrument. “Breathe forcefully for me again, please.” Donnie repeated. “Good,” commented Doctor Surrey, as he moved the stethoscope under Donnie’s other breast and pushed just as hard. That was a strange feeling for Donnie because his boob hung far enough to feel the tip of the stethoscope, as if it were a plate for Donnie to sit his breast on. He felt the cold metal flat on his skin and the taller extension just under his nipple. “Another big breath.”

Everything seemed to be going well. The doctor moved to listening to his breathing from his back, and Donnie noticed that stethoscope was sinking quite far into his skin as well.

“Now we’re going to give you a hernia check. Lay back.” Donnie felt his belly jiggle a bit as he relaxed and rolled backwards. The doctor started jabbing his fingers near Donnie’s hips and then toward the middle of his waist, and Donnie could feel his belly moving a lot. “It appears you are hernia free, but it’s a little difficult with your body composition to get a good reading,” Doctor Surrey said as he kept palpating.

After a few more checkup items, the doctor sat on a chair next to Donnie’s elevated seat and said “Everything looks fine. No health concerns here. How much did you weigh at your last weigh in, Donnie?”

“I was in the two nineties,” said Donnie, a little smugly. He half-hoped he had dropped below two ninety but knew it was most likely that he was in the low two nineties. Was it physically possible for him to be below two ninety after ten days?

“Oh... We’re going to need to do some blood tests. Have you had any serious changes to your eating or exercise since you got here?” The doctor’s words concerned Donnie.

“Yes, actually! I’ve been working out much more.” Donnie said proudly.

“Okay...” Doctor Surrey said, sounding confused.

“Why do you ask?”

The doctor pointed to something just below Donnie’s leg. He hadn’t noticed that the bed he was sitting on was also a scale. But it was upside down. Two... One... E? Was there some sort of error? Then his brain straightened it out. “Because it appears you’ve gained eighteen pounds in ten days,” explained Doctor Surrey. “You’re three fifteen now.”

“That’s impossible,” said Donnie, shocked. “I’ve been working out every day. Could it be muscle mass?”

“It’s not impossible,” said the doctor, “but it’s strange. It is impossible that all the gained weight has been muscle mass. Let’s double check that number.”

He beckoned for Donnie to step down from the bed and onto another scale in the room. “Can I take off my pants?” asked Donnie. He didn’t need any extra weight messing with this weight in.

“I don’t see why not,” said the doctor.

Donnie dropped his pants like a professional MMA fighter before a weigh in, and stepped on the scale. It made a beep and said his weight out loud in a robotic voice. “Three hundred fifteen point five pounds.” How was this possible?

“That puts your BMI at about forty-four. Let me do one more measurement,” said the doctor. Donnie was standing on the scale, and Doctor Surrey wrapped a tape measure around his waist. “A waist measurement below forty inches is prescribed for optimal health,” he explained.

“And how much is mine?”

The doctor pulled the tape measure taught with it going just above Donnie’s bellybutton. “It looks like... forty nine.”

Three hundred and fifteen pounds and basically a fifty inch waist? Donnie was shocked. He didn’t know what was happening, but he started to feel himself get hard. Did he enjoy being such a large masculine man that it turned him on? He quickly grabbed his pants, slipped them on, and sat down.

“Alright. I’m going to take some blood and send it to a lab to make sure that there isn’t some nefarious reason for your weight gain. Let’s meet back here next week. Does that sound good?”

Donnie submitted and zoned out for the rest of the visit. Was he upset? His penis surely wasn’t. What was going on?

He went to dinner with Loren and it took a while for Loren to get out of Donnie what was on his mind. Finally he just spilled. “I was three hundred and fifteen pounds at the doctor’s office today. How is that possible?”

“That’s not possible,” confirmed Loren. “You couldn’t gain thirty five pounds in ten days. There’s no way.”

“Oh... Actually, I lied to you. I was two ninety-seven when I got here, not two eighty.”

“Haha! Why would you lie about that?”

“Well... nobody wants to be heavier,” Donnie answered, sheepishly.

“That... is a goddamn lie!” exclaimed Loren. “You know naturally small guys try to gain weight all the time. And I wasn’t lying when I told you how hot you are. I love big, thick guys. Why else would I have had that raging boner when we traded clothes?”

Donnie never realized that was a thing. He didn’t need to be closer to the movie star standard to turn people on? “Are you serious?”

“Hell yeah! I think you look wonderful at three fifteen, but I also want you to be comfortable in your body. Just know that whether you lose weight, gain weight, or maintain weight, you are someone’s reason to jack off! But that makes much more sense. Having gained from two ninety-seven to three fifteen is much more reasonable. They try to make the food in here as calorie-packed as possible so they can make less and still give us our recommended calories per day. Eating one serving of everything per day in here will give you between 2,500 and 2,750 Calories, and you’ve been eating... at least double that, so if you came into prison a little hungry and/or dehydrated, it’s not too much of a stretch to think you’d fluctuate eighteen pounds in ten days.

Donnie wasn’t sure what he felt. Did he actually like to gain weight? He had a boner while Loren was explaining it all, but he wasn’t going to admit that. He decided not to eat dinner, which concerned Loren deeply, but Loren supported his friend, regardless.

The next morning, Donnie woke up ravenously hungry. He could hardly wait to get to the cafeteria, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure he wanted to eat. He got the food - fake eggs, soupy oatmeal, and mystery sausage - and a little farther from the main guys in the cafeteria than his and Loren’s usual spot. Loren seemed confused, but Donnie made it clear that he did want Loren to sit with him.

“Alright, look. I got a boner when the doctor weighed and measured me, but I didn’t get a boner when they weighed me as I entered jail. I want to talk to you about this, because I’m wondering if I’m like you. Maybe I like being a big guy.” Donnie started. “What do I do?”

“Well, in my completely unbiased opinion,” Loren started sarcastically, “where would be better to experiment with something like this than in prison? We will be safe as big guys, and you can always blame your weight gain on prison food when you get out. Tell them exactly what I told you. You might even be able to stay the course, decide if you like being bigger, and then lose the weight before you get out of here.”

Donnie didn’t know if he was convinced, had already been onboard, or was just too hungry to come to any other conclusion. He tipped his plate of eggs into his mouth in one bite, literally drank his oatmeal, and ate both sausages at once. “How much more can I get?”

Loren had been grinning slightly and broke into a full on, almost devilish smile at the question. “Let me get rid of my boner and then we can get as much as you want.” After talking about their chores for the day, they both got seconds and Loren gave all his food to Donnie. They did that one more time before they left breakfast, but Donnie thought he could eat more.

I’m three hundred and fifteen pounds, thought Donnie. And I love it.

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gnzma · 2 years

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[ ...okay for real tho

pros:

big meaty arms

loyal. too loyal, maybe. will die and kill for you

very protective uwu

will talk to you about bugs and honestly what is there not to love about it

nothing that’s RIGHT

cons:

lives in a rickety half-broken mansion

no cash

hated by god

he had a girlfriend but they took her in the divorce

they being the aliens who deeply traumatized him

jealous jealous jealous

either too much self esteem or none at all there’s no in-between

will pick a fight with literally anyone

hope you’re ready to hang out with Nanu while he’s in the piss jail!!!!!

...but yea he can give you epic bug facts so he’s 100% dateable ]

#❌|| ʏᴀ ɢɪʀʟ ɢɪᴏ 💀 ooc ||❌

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inmyarmswrappedin · 3 years

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The third episode of 19 is up! (Has been for a few hours lol.)

You can actually check on the website how long each episode is going to be, and this episode is one of the longest ones. The only other longer episode is ep 9, which will be 22 min long. So there’s a lot to say about today’s ep.

Yusuf has something to do in Oslo, so he tags along with Aisha to “go to uni.” Aisha tries to get out of it, but there’s no use. They go to the station together, where Yusuf runs into a friend. The friend asks Yusuf right in front of Aisha how come he allows his sister to dress like that in see-through clothes. Says dudes these days aren’t like they used to be (I mean how much older than Aisha is he, really? But fine lol). Basically makes Yusuf feel like he’s not a good brother because he’s not intervening in Aisha’s life more.

When the guy leaves, Aisha angrily asks Yusuf why he didn’t defend her, so Yusuf’s like, “I tried, but he kept going.” (Which, tbf, is true.) Anyway, this is strike 1 in Aisha’s “men ain’t shit” day.

The guy Yusuf was supposed to meet is late, so Yusuf again talks Aisha into showing him around the law building. You can actually tell it’s the first time Aisha’s stepped foot into the building, because she doesn’t know where anything is, but also, because she’s very clearly enamored with how big and cool everything looks. Yusuf is equally impressed, says this building doesn’t look like their high school at all. He even admits, in an awed voice, that he totally gets why their parents are so proud, and why they tell everyone in the family about Aisha studying law. (I mean, this is so touching, but also, yyyyyyikes.)

Finally, Aisha gets her brother to fuck off, and since she’s already in the building, she goes to one of the auditoriums and kind of imagines herself to already be attending classes. She leaves when other people start to trickle in, and instead goes to the library to keep working on her GED.

You know the writing for a show is good, when as soon as an idea starts to pop into your mind, the show goes and actually addresses it. While she’s revising, Emrah texts Aisha about meeting. And I was like, “okay they’ve texted or hung out every day so far, who’s Aisha kidding? They are basically dating.” Emrah asks Aisha to meet at some food place, so Aisha turns off the location on her phone (lmaooo) and leaves.

When she gets there, Emrah is surprised that she came. He was hanging out with Abdi, but pulls out the chair next to him so Aisha can join them. Aisha instead sits in front of him, which obviously annoys Emrah. Abdi’s like, “sooo I’m going to get you some water.” While he’s gone, Aisha asks Emrah why he asked her to meet him if he was hanging out with Abdi, and Emrah’s like, “I didn’t think you were actually going to come!”

At this point, a fight just seems like it’s going to break out. Abdi comes back and tells Aisha he heard she’s going to uni. Abdi is studying to be a teacher, himself. (Aw!) So Aisha asks Emrah why he isn’t studying to be a teacher, and Emrah snaps that he will, but he needs to get a few things in order yet. And Abdi’s all, “has anyone tried the salad????” Aisha says she has a birthday to go to. Strike 2 in Aisha’s “fuck men” day.

And so, then, at the party, the girls start talking about the dudes they know. Like who’s dateable, who’s not hot, making fun of the pics the guys post on insta, with guns or doing muscle poses, etc. Inevitably the girls start talking about Emrah, who’s not off limits, because the girls don’t know that Aisha is still very much seeing him and into him. So there’s this moment where they’re saying Emrah is hot etc, which I thought was awkward since Aisha is right there, but THEN they start talking shit about him (like he legit went to jail, etc) and that might be even worse because she can’t defend him either. This adds to the tension Aisha is already feeling.

Later on, the girls are talking about the importance of retaining your V card, because it’s important for guys that their girl is a virgin, and also, they can tell when she’s not. Aisha takes umbrage with this convo. She says that they all have different noses and hands and so on, so it follows that they’ll also have different pussies. So they won’t all look the same, and also, a woman doesn’t always bleed the first time. Like, it’s all on google! A girl says she doesn’t trust google, so Aisha gets more personal. She’s had sex and she didn’t bleed, it just hurt a little. The same girl wants to know who she had sex with, and Jamilah says it was Emrah. Anyway, this was strike 3 on Aisha’s “men should die” day.

Jamilah’s boyfriend now calls her to check where she is, Jamilah says she’s with girl friends, the guy hangs up. Oh, but now Aisha is pissed. She starts arguing with Jamilah over Jamilah’s boyfriend calling her, Jamilah says that’s what boyfriends do, because she thinks Aisha is single, and Aisha refuses to put a name to her thing with Emrah because of Emrah’s history. Aisha gets more pissed and louder, and says Jamilah is an idiot and moreover she’s weak for letting her boyfriend control her like that. And now Jamilah is actually hurt and the other girls are silent because homegirl fucked up. Aisha leaves, but this is sooo obviously going to come back and bite her in the ass.

#17 nrk #I LOVE HOW THIS IS JUST DAY 3

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radioagnes · 3 years

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who is the most dramatic, most dateable, most likely to succeed and most likely to end up in jail?

i feel like i’m back in high school with these most likely questions ! but, i’m here to answer so these are my picks. but don’t fret, feel free to disagree with me and let me know otherwise, i was the captain of my debate team. for most dramatic, i’d have to give it to esra şendağ. have you heard the conversation between her and her twin sister ? straight out of a soap opera. my pick for most dateable ties with to our loveable paramedic and tattoo receptionist, max walsh and karina rodriguez ! to quote megan fox from jennifer’s body: i go both ways and i could never pick just one.

most likely to succeed has to go to running water’s owner, danny boudreaux; he’s truly made the place a go-to destination, if you haven’t been - what are you doing with yourself ? and most likely to end up in jail goes to peter lee for stealing my heart and possibly for a few other things. oh well, what d’you think ? CALL IN, LISTENERS !

@esrcs @damnedfm @despondences @gatheringswans @facadism

#Anonymous #c: esra #c: max #c: daniel #c: peter

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oldtumblhurgoyf · 5 years

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Lauren Orsini wants to kiss a cat man and that’s wrong*

Here’s a ranking of All 36 'Magic: The Gathering' War of the Spark Planeswalkers Ranked By Dateability in Forbes no less. But it’s so terribly wrong. Here’s my Empirically Correct List of Planeswalkers Ranked By Dateability.

*this is all very silly and Orsini’s list is fine, I’m sure... for her.

36-28 Undateable

36 and 35. Tie between Gideon Jura and Domri Rade (with an honorable mention to Dack Fayden).

Dudes are all literally dead. Sorry, but I’m not dating a corpse. Also, before Gideon’s death, he was running himself ragged hopping from plane to plane to save the world. He didn’t have the time for a relationship. Domri is an obnoxious child (emphasis on child too). Of the three, Dack had the most potential but even alive he’d be lucky to break the top 20 of my list. Good for a few fun weekends and that’s probably it. Tempting to hope your love could reform him but that’s just a good way to have your heart stolen.

34. Nicol Bolas

He’s downright evil and self-centered to an unfathomable degree. Hard pass, no thank you. Literally no redeeming qualities.

33. Ob Nixilis

The obvious date for him is someone into BDSM, right? Wrong. He’s not going to respect your boundaries or practice good after care. He’ll use and abuse you for what he wants and then probably murder you. That’s not a date.

32. Dovin Baan

This dude’s whole deal is that he sees the flaws in everything. He’d probably outright refuse to date and if not, he’d constantly be nitpicking your relationship and you. There’s probably a decent amount of built up angst and stuff and if he ever cut loose there could be some fun, but it would be very fleeting and comes at too great a cost (months later thinking “what did he mean by ‘your forehead is adequate, but your nose is not the ideal shape’?”).

31. Tibalt

See Ob Nixilis. Kind of crazy how similar these two are.

30. Ashiok

We don’t know a whole lot about them, but I’m envisioning they’re like Ob Nixilis/Tibalt except it’s all mental/psychological harm. It’s Dovin Baan but instead of an ostensible pursuit of perfection, the mental anguish is its own reward.

29. Ugin

Like dating a dad, but a really boring dad. And like any other dragon, he’s still very full of himself, he’s just a little more subtle about it. Besides, apparently you’d do all your dating in the Prison Realm and Bolas would be there trying to ruin your (already pretty miserable) date as some small payback for being trapped.

28. Sorin Markov

Things will be okay, but he gives me weird unwanted daddy vibes and he’s just going to ghost you anyway.

27-19 Redeeming Qualities, Not Long-Term Material

27. The Wanderer

Not much to go on here but we do know she’s gonna ghost you though probably not voluntarily.

26. Teyo Verada

He seems nice enough but he’s pretty young and super naive. He’s got some things to figure out and some growing to do before you’d want to date him.

25. Jiang Yanggu

What I said for Teyo goes for Yanggu as well. Plus side, every date with him there is a really cute pupper coming along.

24. Kaya

She’s giving me Gideon vibes. I think she’d be more fun than Gids, but she’s too devoted to her career to have time for a relationship.

23. Teferi

It’s a common refrain I’m running into here, but Teferi is also too dedicated to his job to make for a good relationship. Additionally he’s got lifetimes of experiences that make him “The Most Interesting Man in the Multiverse” and you’re always going to feel like a second fiddle to him, not an equal. This is a case where he’s almost too perfect.

22. Jaya

Jaya’s got distinct mother vibes for me. There’s just no way I could see a date with her that isn’t weird. It wouldn’t even be a bad date per se, but it’s not gonna happen.

21. Samut

I’m intimidated by Samut. I mean, who wouldn’t be? She’s been through Amonkhet’s trials and stood ready in front of Hazoret’s spear. That’s such a singular dedication that few others can match. I think I’d shrivel in front of her love.

20. Kiora

She’s a playful trickster and kind of flighty. You’ve got one good date with her and then maybe a follow up fling at some point, but there’s no building a relationship here. I mean, unless you’re really lucky, but I wouldn’t count on it.

19. Karn

Karn’s got plenty going for him. He’s done some really interesting stuff, he’s motivated, and deeply invested even if he doesn’t always show it. He can certainly show you a lot of cool things. But long term the lack of humanity creates distance and problems.

18-10 A Good Time, Let’s See How it Works Out

19. Liliana Vess

She’s a toss up to me at this point. She’s been through a whole helluva lot and this is the point where she could go completely good, or take her get out of demon-contract-death jail free card and double down on all her worst attributes. She’ll be a fun date, you just can’t be sure it should be more than that.

17. Angrath

Dude’s super dedicated to his family but he gets incredibly frustrated and pretty damn easily. His name’s literally angry wrath so you kind of have to expect that. If you think going to a dive bar and getting into a fight with a biker is a good date then Angrath is going to be a fun time.

16. Vivien Reid

Maybe I just haven’t been paying a whole lot of attention, but I know less about Vivien Reid than any other planeswalker on this list I think (which is wild when you consider exactly how little we know about the Wanderer or Kasmina). But as the Steve Irwin of the multiverse, there’s no way this date isn’t fun. You’ve just perhaps bitten off more than you can chew.

15. Ajani Goldmane

Ajani is a total sweetheart who will care for you like no other. The flip side of that is he is always pushing you to be your better self and, hon, that’s just a little much for me. Like can’t we just stay in and cuddle for once? I do NOT want to go to the gym again this week.

14. Arlinn Kord

Unlike Jaya, I don’t have mom vibes here. She’s a good looking lady who definitely seems to be here for a good time.

13. Huatli

This one is totally an “it’s not you, it’s me situation.” She’s so big on community and sharing stories--I’m more of a homebody. There’s nothing wrong exactly, we just won’t be compatible, I don’t think. But somebody out there is, and the two of you will get along famously. Another list would totally rank her as marriage material.

12. Narset

This is another case of such dedication and perfectionism that I just don’t think I could measure up in a relationship with her. She’ll come home from exploring the multiverse and meditation and combat training and reading ancient scrolls to find all I’ve done is take out the trash and do some dishes before playing some games and... not be disappointed exactly, but it won’t inspire respect and desire in her. Another one where there’s incredible potential there... for the right person.

11. Kasmina

Mysterious as she is, I’m getting young Jaya vibes from Kasmina. Not as in, when Jaya was actually young and all fiery temper and stuff. But rather, current Jaya without the creepy (to me) mom vibes. There’s potential here but so much mystery it’s impossible to say for sure without taking a chance.

10. Nahiri

I can’t imagine anyone I’d have a better single date with. Like a real good time. She’s planned it out perfectly and she’s ready to go. It might not last, but you’ll enjoy it while it does. Keep the lines of communication clear, respect boundaries, and be aware she can hold a grudge, and I think this actually has a chance.

9-1 Marriage Material

9. Jace Beleren

He’s sort of what I see Yanggu or Teyo needing. He’s done that growing and learning and he’s a pretty solid guy. He’s learned a lot of lessons the hard way but he’s definitely better for it.

8. Tamiyo

She’s literally married and raising kids in a happy home. The potential is there (if we ignore her canon marriage and assume she is available to date), not to mention her chosen career of essentially multiverse astronomer is pretty damn cool and relatively safe compared to what these other planeswalkers have devoted themselves to. (Sure, there’s Innistrad and Emrakul, but I imagine most planes’ moons are much safer to observe than that.)

7. Sarkhan Vol

Like Jace, he’s worked through a lot and is a pretty awesome person because of it. Unlike Jace, he’s been attractive the whole time. He’s tender and vibrant and aware and just cool as all hell. Bringing him home would be like dating Brendan Frasier in his prime.

6. Vraska

Downside to Vraska is that she’s pretty clique-ish and suspect of anyone from outside her group. Her views have expanded recently, but I think she’s still going to put up a rock hard exterior. If you can chisel your way through that then you’ve got a heart of gold.

5. Davriel Cane

Forget the demon contracts and all that nonsense. What this guy wants deep down is to just be left alone. Let’s retire to a nice estate on the countryside and enjoy our time together.

4. Saheeli Rai

Creative and inspiring, Saheeli is an absolute sweetheart. And she’s dedicated to a craft that she can do at home. She doesn’t have go trooping about the multiverse on dangerous missions without you. She can work on amazing marvels in her workshop then come next door to take you out for ice cream.

3. Nissa Revane

Nissa is a bit aloof and distant, but don’t let that fool you. She’s nurturing in every way you could want and then some. She’s great if you can get past that stoic exterior.

2. Ral Zarek

Ral’s more romantic than I ever woulda thought. He’s dedicated and thoughtful, but not so stuffy that things get boring. Actually the biggest detractor here is that things will never be boring with Ral, but he’ll make it worth your while to stick beside him through it all.

1. Chandra Nalaar

Full of warmth and passion, Chandra’s got what it takes to make the strongest connection. And she’s another character who has made some incredible personal growth recently. She’s ready to take the next step with someone special and if that were you, the two of you are in for a long-burning love.

#mtg #planeswalkers #forbes #lauren orsini #dateability #this is a really silly list #but it was fun

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optimisticvirtuoso · 5 years

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From the 1 Year Anniversary GF Dating Sim Stream...

Here’s some of my favorite quotes, moments, or events from the second playthrough (Ford’s Route).

Really wish I’d done this for Stan’s route too.

"Is my volume ok? good, because I'm spouting nonsense that you have to hear." -Rosie

"'Busy hopping thru portals n' shit, you know how it be' -Stanford Pines" -fuzzywuzzyspiders

"'I've made other discoveries as well: my butt is going numb.' -Stanford Pines" -fuzzywuzzyspiders

"Like this strap thing around my chest. Who knows what's behind it? A slingshot? A gun? A banana? You can't tell, can you?" -Rosie, in regards to Ford's belt.. thing

"You may be SCARRED FOR LIFE but it's for learning purposes." -mbdoodles

"It's a *rock*. It's Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson." -Rosie

"Made it a 4D experience and also decided to chew gum lol" -mythomagically

"In his cOaT tIdDiE pOcKeT" -Rosie

"What the hell is a matchbook?" -Rosie

"This isn't darkness, this is... advanced darkness." -pantspossum

"'You see a stranged, winged shadow..' It's DRACULA! AHAHAH!" -Rosie

"'But even in the dark, you see him grinning widely at you-' because he's a fucking nerd." -Rosie

"We're gonna touch the butt guys, it's gonna be great." -Rosie

"'Mothman turns and screeches-' WREEEEHHHH '-and flutters apart in a swarm of moths.'" -Rosie

"You'll never be SHIT, BILL." -nerdstreak

"We're going for true love's high five~ There it is!" -Rosie, in a singsong voice

"I'm a what?" "Yer a hotboi, player" -mythomagically

"Ford, do you even lift?" -Rosie

"Oh he LIFTS." "He lifts my heart right out of its chest." -Nerdstreak

"..and you turn the corner, and there he is- SHIA LABEOUF!" -Rosie

"Ford,, I'm cold,, can we borrow your turtleneck,," -mythomagically

"Can you guys shut the hell your mouth, please?" -Rosie

"Yeah Im waving a wooden spoon at you, dog, because it seems to be the only thing you're afraid of." -Rosie

Just the butter story in general, told by Rosie

"Rosie and Isa say gay rights!" -Rosie

"hOtBoI" -Various people, mostly Isa and Rosie and half of the chat over the course of both playthroughs

"Mothman was SHOOK." -Rosie

"We saw his swaying coat and inscrutable goggles and immediately thought 'Yes, this is husband material'." -fuzzywuzzyspiders

"'Now that he's looking at you, you don't remember what you were going to say' because he's so beautiful." -Rosie

"'Its still my house' in the middle of the street!" -Rosie

"Mabel is the..QUEEN of romance. Aphrodite who?" -Rosie

"Rose petals. That's funny. I'm Rose. Why did I write that?" -Rosie

"Mom said it's MY turn on the gay rights..." -Nerdstreak

"uwu~" -Rosie

*Intentional Beauty and the Beast references* -Rosie

"WhAt Is A fLiRtAtIon?!" -Rosie

"Ford, assuming it's something lewd, 'what the FUCC is a dm...'" -fuzzywuzzyspiders

"Heinz (Doofenschmirtz) is boyfriend material. DATEABLE." -fuzzywuzzyspiders

"'Hotboi (our player name), I'll be frank.' My name isn't Mabel anymore, I'm Frank." -Rosie

"Dem FOREARMS" -Nerdstreak

"[Ford] walks out of the kitchen and has a perfect handprint on his butt." -fuzzywuzzyspiders

"Let Mabel say Fuck." -pantspossum

"You smell like rotten eggs, yes you do, yes you do!" -Rosie, baby-talking a dog

"Can you quit snorting, please? It sounds like you're doing too much coke." -Rosie

"GASP! Everyone looks so scandalized!" -Rosie

"'...brandishing something disturbingly pink-' ITS PEPTO BISMOL! YOU GUYS HAVE PEPTO BISMOL???" -Rosie

"Fors is like, conceivably one of the most dangerous humans on the planet, I just realized. Thaat's pretty hot tbh." -fuzzywuzzyspiders

"*Whispering* Join me with my pretty nuggets, hotboi." -Rosie

"I just wiggled my butt as I said 'bushy-tailed'. Im getting into character, you guys!" -Rosie

"The Pines family is already the circus." -mbdoodles

*Loudly singing Uptown Funk* -Rosie

"You're about to experience the wrath of a god!" -Rosie, in a Mickey Mouse voice

"But Stan got a totally hot scar out of it." fuzzywuzzyspiders

The pepto-bismol references.

Singing Disco Girl, Uptown Funk, Reserve Everything Stays, Always Gold, and other songs in the chat.

"Holding hands? Scandalous." -mbdoodles

"FROM THE PEPTO-BISMOL SUNSET" -Rosie

"Next we might *gasp* see his ankles!" -fuzzywuzzyspiders

"'I've been breaking laws and taking names for 30 years and I cANT GO BACK TO JAIL." -fuzzywuzzyspiders

"Ford's been kicking names and taking ass." -mythomagically

"Heavy on the taking ass part." -fuzzywuzzyspiders

"Bill Cipher, the razzle dazzle dorito!" -mbdoodles

"That's not putting it lightly, you bitch." -Rosie

@rosielibrary @pixiespectacles @mythomagically-delicious @flamingredskyes @einahpetsyarcip @nerdstreak @dietpitt @pantspossum @gfds-jupiter @mbdoodles @themightyrancho

And of course,

@gfdatingsim

If I missed anyone, let me know. I tried to tag as many as I could remember!

Also my tag was different in chat (hafluteamatata)

#gfdatingsim #what year is it #im tired #ive been in stream for hoursss #my eyes #my head #but HOT DAMN DID I HAVE FUN #YALL ARE CRAZY AND I LOVE IT #i made new friends!! :D :D #HOTBOI #hotb-HOTBOI #Ill hear the calls of hotboi in my dreams moons from now #like flocks of angry seagulls #let us never forget hotboi

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xiajin · 6 years

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hello!! this has been posted here until i am free from my unfair jailing on ao3

jungkook blinks at the handsome young man sitting across from him.

his palms are sweating a little, maybe. jungkook feels warm at the back of his neck, behind his knees, and a little bit at his collar. he hopes that his button up is doing enough of god’s work to cover up any of his splotchy, unattractive blushes. his blind date for the evening is - well dressed, with immaculate hair and a nice smile, broad shouldered and well spoken. all things jungkook had written out very meticulously in his ideal type box on the first ever dating app he’s ever had to download.

it was rough, trying to find the most flattering picture of him, but with jimin and taehyung’s help - and heavy judgement - he managed to make himself look mildly dateable. at least, he thinks so. hobbies? working out, eating lots late at night, drawing, singing, dancing, gaming, i like to do too much.... favorite food? pizza! favorite genre of music? you can only have one favorite genre of music? jungkook had answered all of these to the best of his ability, palms sweating all the while.

for the first few months of his freshman year at college, he had focused on getting himself situated into his new school and making friends, joining clubs, and working hard toward his vocal studies degree. he had took too much on at a little time, probably, and finished off a lot of early requirement classes. it had been a blur, all those months, but it had been worth it because - now, in his sophomore year, he has practically nothing to do. all his classes are light enough and easily handled during the four days he goes to class. an entire weekend to himself? he’s never had this before. and so with his newfound free time and one too many nights of loneliness underneath his belt, he figured that such an opportunity couldn’t be wasted.

he is going to get a boyfriend.

fast forward to here and now, because jungkook can’t find men the usual way, like in romcoms or in webtoons or in books. no one accidentally falls in love. he has to be proactive (says jimin) and willing to take risks (says taehyung). he wants to be hiding in a hole (says jungkook).

“so, you go to one of the schools nearby?” the guy across from him says. his name is seokjin, he’s in grad school, and he’s so handsome jungkook wants to punch something. “what are you majoring in?”

“vocal performance,” he admits, voice a little quieter than he wants it to be. seokjin leans in a little bit to hear, so jungkook clears his throat and says in an embarrassingly louder tone, “and music composition.”

“oh, nice,” seokjin compliments. “i used to major in theatre, haha. always thought i would be an actor,” his eyes glint playfully, and jungkook wants to blurt out ohmygodyoudefinitelylooklikeonehowisyourbonestructurereal but manages to catch himself in time. “but then i ended up going into screenwriting. maybe you’ll see one of my dramas in the future?”

“maybe,” jungkook says in an embarrassingly high voice. he clears his throat, tries to make himself sound less like he’s going through puberty again, and drinks his glass of water. “so, um. have you ever eaten here before?”

“i don’t think so,” seokjin says, looking at the menu in front of them, raising an eyebrow. “do you see anything you like? hyung will pay.”

right; seokjin is five years older than him. jungkook unclenches his hands and smooths over the fabric of his jeans that have long since been wrinkled with his fingerprints. he picks up the menu, glad to have some reprieve from staring at seokjin long enough to be a creeper. they manage to make small talk, mentioning anything and everything from the weather to action figures. jungkook is still a little nervous, feels it in the way he shuffles his feet underneath the table, but when the waiter brings their first appetizer to them -

“seokjin hyung?” he says, a good looking guy with a heart shaped smile. he wasn’t their waiter from before, but jungkook didn't think it was a big deal. “you’re off shift now? wow, on a date?” followed by a saucy wink. seokjin makes a sound like something is dying in his throat, and when jungkook looks over at him, he has his eyes wide - mouth open to say something - “he’s a great guy, by the way,” the waiter continues cheerfully. “hard worker, too. you’re definitely not going wrong with this one. i’ll tell the chef that the food is on the house!” he gives them both a two fingered salute before heading off into the distance, probably into the back kitchen.

“um,” jungkook says faintly.

seokjin, who abruptly hides his face in his hands, loses all effect of coolness and hides his face in his hands with a groan.

“so,” jungkook starts again, feeling a lot less nervous, “you work here?”

turns out seokjin is actually a broke grad student who really likes cooking and making food alongside theatre, and screenwriting doesn’t really pay too well. he works at this restaurant as a waiter and sometimes as a cook when the time calls for it to make enough money on the side to feed himself and have some spending money. he wanted to go on a date with jungkook to get over someone quite bad, and wanted to take him somewhere nice, but then the place that he wanted to take jungkook for dinner had closed down at the last minute and he had no other choice.

“i look like an idiot now,” seokjin mumbles, playing with the bread on the table. “i, uh.”

jungkook smiles; for the first time that night, looking at seokjin being so nervous and unable to talk over his own words, he finds that he’s not too nervous after all. “its okay, hyung. i actually think i like this you better.” seokjin peers at him, eyebrow raised, and jungkook admits, “it was kind of nerve wracking sitting here across from you, thinking you were perfect. i like the imperfect kim seokjin better.”

they both share a laugh.

“he’s just so nice,” jungkook says into the pillow, muffled, “and so good looking, and so funny. like, he gets on my nerves a little but it’s a good kind of gets on my nerves and his shoulders are so wow.”

“wow,” yoongi agrees, distracted from where he’s clicking away on his computer. jungkook rolls over on the edge of the sofa in yoongi’s studio, staring up at the ceiling and feeling distinctly ignored.

“hyung.”

“i’m listening,” yoongi says, same inflection, his eyes never leaving the computer screen.

jungkook throws his pillow at him.

“ow, the fuck?” it hits bullseye, a one shot at the back of his head. yoongi jerks forward a little in his chair before turning around, eyes spelling murder. “you little brat.”

“listen to me,” jungkook insists. “hyung, i’m having a crisis.”

“i thought you figured out your gayness in high school.”

“hyuuuuuuung.”

something about his pleading tone must work, because yoongi turns around with the most resigned face ever. in a pair of old sweats and one of his hoodies, he looks like any other college student, even though they both know he isn’t. out of everyone currently working in music production at their school, yoongi is most well known for being able to sell some of his tracks and make it big in the industry already as a songwriter. he doesn’t have to be getting his masters - there are already three different labels jungkook can name off the top of his head that would sign him - but he’s still doing it anyway. hanging out in this shabby studio apartment that he shares with jungkook, working on his music in a chair he complains about half the time, and eating ramen for dinner when jungkook isn’t there to either a) smack him for it or b) eat alongside with him.

“yes, okay, tell me now about your love life,” yoongi deadpans, although his mouth is pulled up in a half smile. “i’m so interested. riveting. inspirational.”

“you’re so ugly,” jungkook mumbles before turning around to face the opposite side of the sofa. “forget it.”

“jeon jungkook, don’t you fucking do that to me. you know i hate that shit.”

jungkook sticks his tongue out at him.

easily, yoongi goes, “after all that i’ve done for you.” with a click of his tongue and a couple of well placed, meaningful head shakes. “what a brat.”

“i really think i could get myself to like this one, hyung,” jungkook starts all of the sudden, the words slipping from his mouth from the edge of his lungs where everything feels like it’s hard to breathe. “i dunno. he’s very likeable. kind of a dork.”

yoongi says nothing, but jungkook knows just what expression he has: gentle, if not a little bit embarrassed, the way he always gets when they talk about feelings. a bit mopey. slim eyes will stare at jungkook and hang onto every word; yoongi has a way of listening to you that makes you feel important. jungkook plays with a loose thread on the sofa, flicking it in between his fingers.

“you didn’t feel that spark right away, huh?” yoongi says, quiet, and jungkook hates how he can just - get to the bottom of it so quickly, so easily. his shoulders sag. “i thought you were nervous about the date. texted me, jimin, and taehyung all at once, wanting to know what outfit to wear - feeling lightheaded, all of that.”

he does feel a spark around someone, feels lightheaded around a certain person; always ends up searching for them in a crowd, wanting to hear them laugh, wanting to be close to them. jungkook has been stupidly in crush with yoongi for a long time, longer than he can even remember. he wants to sometimes to punch himself in the face for falling in love with his closest friend and roommate, especially when the other hasn’t given him a single sign of being interested in jungkook in return. yoongi’s hard to parse out sometimes - he’s always so into his music and his work, romance never seems to be on his radar. the last time jungkook asked if he liked someone after plucking his courage up after three shots and a whole lot of pep talking, yoongi had just shrugged.

so - yes, jungkook is nervous, always nervous at some level around yoongi, wanting something from him that he probably can’t get. if he can convince himself that they’re really just good friends, that getting a boyfriend will be good for him to finally get over yoongi, then - that’s what he’s going to do. he’s going to shove his fluttery feelings down his throat and hope he can smile at someone else in the future and have it feel real.

“i did,” he admits, “but then. i dunno - as soon as he started talking, i...” jungkook trails off, unsure. “it felt like another hyung i could get close to. maybe not as a boyfriend. i don’t know.” he’s not too sure what having a boyfriend feels like - so wrapped up in his own mind and his hobbies, jungkook’s never found time to really date. or even like someone intensely. he’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel when in a solid like. “i’m meeting him again tomorrow, what do you think - “ jungkook spins around abruptly, throwing his body against the edge of the sofa, and his voice dies a little in his throat.

for a moment - for a moment there had been - something strange in yoongi’s eyes, his expression not as gentle as jungkook is expecting. but then it smooths out a moment later, not a single moment in between for jungkook to discern what emotion had been painted clear across yoongi’s eyes.

“romance builds up with time,” yoongi says. “give it a couple more chances. if you really don’t like this guy as a love interest, then just tell him; but there’s no shame in trying to figure it out as you go.”

“love interest,” jungkook splutters. “who even calls it that?”

“your life is like a drama sometimes,” yoongi smirks. he flicks his pen at jungkook. “it’s amusing.”

“i literally stay at home on friday and like to taehyung about what i’m doing so he won’t drag me to the club.”

“slice of life dramas are always the most popular.”

“you’re ridiculous,” he laughs, but there’s something light unfurling in his chest. right - he doesn’t have to have it figured out right away. sure, he doesn’t know how much he likes seokjin for sure, but does that really matter? jungkook can take it easy, and go as slow as he wants. he can figure out his feelings and if there’s really nothing, then... would seokjin mind being friends? he seems like the cool type, but. jungkook’s only met him recently.

“thanks, hyung,” he says a couple of heartbeats later, lulled into a state of half sleep by the rhythmic sound of yoongi’s fingers on the keyboard and the warmth of their apartment. “really. you’re the best.” he closes his eyes to the dying light of day, basking warm and easy in the sunset. the best part about their apartment are the floor to ceiling windows; he mentally congratulations past jungkook on making good decisions and placing their very comfortable second hand leather sofa across from the glass panels.

absorbed in the easy atmosphere and almost asleep, he barely hears yoongi’s low voice, embedded with a strange tone - wistfulness. “don’t, gguk. i don’t deserve it.” he has half a mind to respond, but - it’s so faint that jungkook might have imagined it, yoongi’s voice. sometimes he hears it in his dreams, after all, and maybe - yeah, maybe that’s jungkook’s head talking, just a whispering note of a yoongi’s impression left fading at the forefront of his mind.

his second date with seokjin is at a bowling alley. jungkook’s always been a little bit too good at all physical things - he likes doing anything athletic, playing and working out and the like - but seokjin is no pushover either. they talk about their regimens and jungkook admits a little bit of envy and attraction to seokjin’s shoulders, which makes the other stand a little bit straighter. it’s endearingly cute, and jungkook wants to kick something because of it.

seokjin might have the same response, because he stares at jungkook for a moment when the other starts drinking his soda enthusiastically during lunch, lips pursed around the straw, and his fists clench.

at bowling, they manage to have a good time and actually break a pin in the process, knocking it so far against the back wall that it breaks clean in half. jungkook winces at the sound - seokjin did that - and they share a brief look of horror before one of the employees heads over to check out the damage. thankfully they didn’t have to pay anything - the pin was an old one - but it makes for a good story after. jungkook can’t help but laugh, remembering the way seokjin had dropped the next bowling ball he was holding a centimeter away from his foot, swearing all the while and looking like he might just want to burn his own wallet just to prevent anyone else from fucking him over. jungkook relates.

seokjin walks him to the bus stop and he leans in, sort of, like he wants to kiss jungkook real bad but then thinks better of it when jungkook stupidly leans back, blinking wide eyes at seokjin and wondering what the fuck is going on oh my god he hasn’t kissed anyone in years seokjin cannot kiss him or else he will combust. and revive himself and then die again.

instead, seokjin gives him a hug before his bus comes around. jungkook swallows thickly and sinks down onto the blue plastic seats, feeling like a major fool.

jungkook heads back to his apartment that night with a burning face, memories of a good time, and a strange rumbling low in his belly. he doesn’t know if it’s uneasiness or just a general sense of hungriness (he’s a growing boy) but he ends up in the kitchen, chowing down on a bag of chips and waiting for a pot of ramen to cook up without changing out of his date clothes. yoongi stands at the entrance of the kitchen, arms crossed, eyebrow raised.

“bad night?”

“no, it went well,” jungkook says, staring at water boiling. he can’t seem to meet yoongi’s eyes.

“why are you stress eating then?”

jungkook purses his lips. it only serves to remind him of seokjin’s mouth, which had been so so so close to his, and how he has perfectly shaped plump lips and he how he was probably thinking about kissing jungkook and all jungkook could do was sort of stare at him like he’d gone crazy. he puts a hand up to his mouth and thinks about the last time he’s kissed someone: in high school, a girl whose mouth tasted too much like artificial sweetener and cigarettes, who made him look at himself and go i don’t think i like girls that way. he’s never actually kissed a guy, spent the rest of his high school career with his head down.

“hyung, can you kiss well?”

there’s no sound for a moment, almost like yoongi isn’t breathing. blinking tiredly, jungkook looks over to see yoongi so still that he might as well not be breathing.

“um.” jungkook pushes away from the counter with a bit of effort. “hyung, are you breathing? do you want me to get your smelling salts?”

“don’t get that shit near my face,” yoongi starts, almost on autopilot, before he gives a little shake of the head - sort of like he’s trying to flick away whatever had rolled onto him at that very moment, like a puppy. “what the hell are you talking about, jungkook?”

“i mean,” jungkook clears his throat. “i was just...” he trails off, unsure how to go about this. how does you just admit that you’ve had like, one kissing experience in your life and that’s primarily because of your own inability to make romantic connections with people? jungkook makes a vague hand motion, hoping that it can encapsulate all he wants to say. yoongi gives him a flat stare.

“i don’t know how to kiss people, okay,” he groans, dragging his palms down across his face. “please leave me alone in my shame.” turning around, jungkook turns off the stove and pours his boiling water into the ramen bowl, adding a slice of cheese and shutting it with his half open chopsticks.

“hey,” yoongi’s voice is much closer now. a hand on his shoulder makes him give a little half turn, eyes peek up through his bangs. “that’s nothing to be ashamed about, you know? who gives a crap and all that?” yoongi’s never been too good at giving motivational speeches on the fly. although he sounds awkward now, jungkook can see the genuine worry in his eyes. “that date went well, huh?”

“it was weird,” he admits.

“good weird?”

maybe, he doesn’t want to say. instead, jungkook sighs and shakes his head, going, “maybe hyung can teach me how to kiss someone so i don’t live the rest of my life as a sad, kissless human being. it could make or break my relationship, you know,” he sighs dramatically, before snickering, feeling a bit better. yoongi’s hand is warm on his shoulder, but jungkook doesn’t realize the affect his words have on yoongi. not until the fingers on him tighten. “ah - yoongi-hyung?”

there’s that odd expression on yoongi’s face again, almost like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how. like it’s getting clogged up in his throat, a mess of pipes and uneasy rivers of thoughts. jungkook’s mouth parts, ready to say it’s a joke to diffuse this - this air around them, suddenly all charged and heavy, like darkness has fallen over them both. yoongi’s fingers are suddenly too warm, his body too close, and - jungkook’s eyes trail across the edge of his jaw with slight trepidation.

“you don’t know half the shit you say sometimes, huh,” yoongi starts, and while his voice sounds light, jungkook doesn’t think he’s ever seen his eyes so dilated. maybe it’s the light - it is pretty dim in here. he removes his hand and jungkook - feels its loss, the loss of him, keenly. “you’ll be fine, jungkook.” strange, strange little lights dance across the shadows playing on yoongi’s face.

“yoongi?” jungkook whispers, unable to breathe.

and then yoongi smiles, that same gentle smile that jungkook is familiar with, and air floods into his lungs. “i’m going to bed, gguk. i’ll see you tomorrow morning? we’re still getting groceries, right?”

“right,” he replies, muted and dazed, as yoongi leaves the room. jungkook reaches up to touch the tingles running across his skin, wondering what the fuck happened - why the hell his mind is spinning, dizzy, from the feeling of yoongi so close to him - when he’s never had this response before, when he’s always been so - so -

jungkook doesn’t feel to hungry anymore, but downs his ramen anyway. the scalding hot noodles at least take his mind off of it.

he doesn’t tell anyone about yoongi’s odd little reaction. jungkook doubts anyone would care, anyway, and - well, even though he’s known yoongi for two years now and lived with him for one, it’s not like he can say he knows absolutely everything about the other. yoongi’s usually an open person but he certainly doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. most of the time, it had been difficult for jungkook to discern what he was feeling and thinking; after they had moved in together, it became much easier, almost like a second nature. he thought that he knew all that he could about yoongi, but - but.

when jimin comes over with a couple bottles of beer and fried chicken, jungkook doesn’t question it. he doesn’t question a lot of things. taehyung follows after him while jimin calls out, “hey, yoongi-hyung! we bought some chicken!”

“save me a box!” they hear yoongi yell from somewhere in the kitchen. jungkook fusses over taehyung putting his shoes in the wrong place just to be fussy and taehyung grins before giving him a fond hair ruffle. jimin sets up the food on the table right away, eyes on the beer.

“he’s been having a rough time with the end of the year showcase,” taehyung tells him when jimin forgoes the chicken and heads straight for the beer. jungkook doesn’t know whether to cry or laugh. “he’s drinking his feelings away.”

“try to beat my iron liver, i dare you,” jimin says to both of them before downing another gulp. taehyung raises his hands in mock surrender before stealing a pillow off of the sofa and settling himself down next to jimin.

“did you get any spicy and sour chicken?” jungkook digs through the boxes for his favorite. “i need oil and grease to make me feel better about the state of my life, thanks.”

“what’s wrong with you?”

“nothing much,” jungkook pulls out the box and shuffles it toward himself. “just a constant state of existential crisis.”

“his panties are twisted for his awful dating skills,” taehyung informs jimin. “apparently their last date, the guy tried to kiss gguk and like the pure prude gguk is, he moved away at the last second.”

jungkook frowns. “shut up. i didn’t realize what was going on - “ while jimin goes, “there’s nothing wrong with being a pure prude, you know. some people have a kink for that - “

“stop,” he sighs, stuffing fried chicken in his mouth. “i just. i don’t know how to kiss. it’s so awkward and messy and - “ jungkook grimaces, thinking about his first kiss. he’s never really liked kissing. why can you do that when you can hold hands instead? “i would just rather not.”

“you, my friend, have not been kissed properly,” taehyung tsks. he points his chopsticks at jungkook the same way korean dads do when they want to prove a point. “if you were kissed properly at least once in your life, by someone good and experienced, i bet you wouldn’t be saying that.”

“what,” jungkook says faintly, and as luck would have it, the moment that yoongi walks into the room with a yawn hanging off the end of his fingers and laser eyes toward the food on the table.

“what’s up,” he says mildly, before plopping down next to jungkook and stealing a piece out of his sweet and sour box. jungkook, so out of it, doesn’t even slap his hand.

jimin speaks up first, going, “just telling jungkook that he hasn’t been properly kissed in his life.”

yoongi chokes.

“thanks,” jungkook says moodily, picking at his chicken again. whatever, it’s not like he has much to lose, right? his face gets bloated no matter what he does, so what does it matter? with this kind of thinking, jungkook sniffles a bit and goes forward into his food with gusto. taehyung pats him on the back.

clearing his throat, yoongi pulls the box away from jungkook, forcing him to breathe and take a step back. jungkook’s gaze barely flickers to him, but when it does, he can’t help but do a double take - yoongi’s a little pink, all around his ears and up the collar of his shirt. he frowns. “hyung, you okay?”

“nope,” jimin snorts.

“yeah, i’m fine,” yoongi, in true yoongi fashion, ignores him. “just had that chicken go down the wrong pipe, you know?”

“i’m sure he could teach you how to go down the right pipe,” jimin mutters.

“what?”

“nothing,” yoongi sends a sharp glare in jimin’s direction, who stifles a giggle. taehyung smacks him on the arm, which is reciprocated with his own smack. while they end up hitting each other all the while, making it into a competition. taehyung and jimin have a superpower of their own: the ability to disappear into their own world. jungkook sits cross legged, his knee touching yoongi’s. the other is focused steadily on the television screen, staring down a variety show so intensely he could burn it with his eyes.

“hey, hyung,” jungkook starts, “you really okay?”

yoongi turns to him then; jungkook’s eyes rove over the features of the man who has always been there for him no matter what throughout all these months, with his soft heart and his big presence. jungkook can’t imagine why anyone would be scared of yoongi; there’s nothing more gentle than the way yoongi’s eyes are, when he sits and listens to all of jungkook’s problems, when he laughs at something jungkook does.

“yeah, gguk,” he says fondly, “i’m fine.”

“okay,” he doesn’t push. jungkook settles back against the side of the sofa and puts the chicken box firmly in his lap; yoongi steals a couple pieces once in a while. jungkook ends up pressing a couple of pieces into his hand, getting them both sticky, but full and satisfied at the same time. jungkook tries not to think about how he wants to desperately fall asleep right then and there, warm and comfortable. taehyung and jimin pack up the rest of the beer even though jungkook hasn’t had any yet, keeping one in the fridge for him later but taking it with them. yoongi tells them not to hit their ass on the way out.

“don’t be mean,” he laughs, hiding the tired sound underneath his fingers.

“look at who this is coming from,” yoongi snorts. “you’re meaner to them than i am.”

“sometimes they deserve it,” jungkook argues, before realizing that he’s just proven yoongi’s point. “oh, wait, shit.”

yoongi’s laugh is low and familiar. jungkook can feel its vibrations in his rib cage, moving from where they’re pressed against each other through their shoulders, jungkook’s fingers digging into yoongi’s elbow.

“you’re ridiculous,” the other sighs, turning to look at him. he’s obviously not expecting jungkook to already be staring, so when yoongi’s eyes meets jungkook’s - he pauses.

they’re very close. jungkook thinks, did i ever notice that? when he sees the way yoongi’s eyes are darker than brown. sure, he’s been close - closer to yoongi - but somehow, this is different. the spaces in between them that grow steadily warmer, steadily closer, intertwining around each other -

jungkook’s fingers are sticky. yoongi smells like his aftershave and faint hints of his cologne, addicting. his hair is dry and frizzy in the way it gets after a shower day, hands resting somewhere on jungkook’s body; but it’s different, isn’t it, something is off. yoongi has touched him many times before. there’s just something - oh, there’s something electric this time, even where yoongi’s fingers are pressing into the material of his shirt, just one layer away from his bare skin.

jungkook doesn’t know why, but the thought of yoongi’s hands on his bare skin makes him shiver.

there’s no way yoongi didn’t feel it, the shudder that runs from the his neck to the base of his spine. the way it puts jungkook closer until they’re sharing breathes, and yet - somehow he’s still staring, blinking slow and easy, searching for the name of the expression painted across yoongi’s features. it’s not one he recognizes. jungkook isn’t sure how to deal with this - after a year, it was easy to believe he had pinned down every single one of yoongi’s expressions. now - well. now, jungkook isn’t so sure.

“hey,” yoongi breaks the momentum first, mouth moving over low spoken words, “it’s different to be properly kissed, actually.”

jungkook’s brain feels like mush. they’re moving in slow motion, wading through amber, warmth ramping up between bodies and skin and movement. jungkook presses closer without realizing, slipping across the edge of the sofa. yoongi’s words barely register. “mm.”

fingers reach up to cup the side of his face. yoongi’s palm is warm; the first time jungkook met him, he always expected yoongi’s skin to be ice cold, but it never is. he’s always warm. it’s a good representation of who yoongi is - how people see him versus how he really is. jungkook cocks his head into the space of yoongi’s palm; a thumb reaches up to brush, feather light, across his cheek bone. the nape of his neck is warm, a little sweater. his heartbeat is pounding loud in his ears.

yoongi opens his mouth like he wants to say something, lips parting. in the end he doesn’t; jungkook follows him almost mindlessly, mimicking the part of his mouth, and yoongi’s thumb moves from his cheek to his bottom lip, pulling it down with butterfly touches. his eyes aren’t focused on jungkook’s anymore, so focused on the way his thumb presses down against the pout of jungkook’s mouth.

“shit,” yoongi mutters, and swipes his thumb to side to replace it with his own mouth.

the first thing that jungkook registers is: insistence. yoongi’s head tilted toward his, the sight of his eyelashes at this angle, his hand cradling the side of jungkook’s face easily even when he’s pressing forward. and then - warmth, pooling first at his bottom lip before moving upward, and - then a sharp little feeling, like teeth. yoongi bites down a little on his bottom lip and it doesn’t just make that warmth bleed, it makes it ignite. jungkook feels it in his stomach, the way yoongi insistently pulls at him and then kisses it better. jungkook breathes out, surprised, and yoongi inhales it whole, trying to steal the breath from his lungs.

jungkook bounds forward, pushing onto yoongi with more force than probably needed; hands move to his shoulders to keep them in balance, and then his waist; jungkook reaches up to pull at yoongi’s hair to move him to a different angle, because jesus does it feel good -

and yoongi pulls back, both of them breathing the same air, pinkened cheeks and wandering fingers. jungkook blinks at yoongi, who looks like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

then it’s happening again.

more, this time. jungkook isn’t sure of what but it’s just more more more more, so much of yoongi in one place, pressing not just one kiss but may - over the corner of jungkook’s lip and on his cupid’s bow and on his nose before his mouth finds jungkook’s again, almost like he can’t help it, like he’s a beacon shining toward home. jungkook is swimming in dark, untreaded waters, his stomach rolling pleasantly and his head running a million miles an hour before it just stops, faced with a wall that he can’t climb over, faced with pleasure sparking across every nerve ending.

yoongi’s hand moves from his skin, feverish and warm, to the back of his neck - to his hair, where he runs his fingers through jungkook’s dark hair. the feeling is pleasant, tingles spreading over the back of his scalp, and then - yoongi pulls, just gentle but firm enough for jungkook to follow. there’s his mouth then at jungkook’s adam’s apple, the hollow column of his throat, a tongue at his collarbone and more teeth nipping the skin underneath his ear. sensitive, soft, jungkook groans and pushes at yoongi’s shoulder first - away, before curling his fingers into the material of his shirt and jerking him closer. it takes less than a second for yoongi to find his mouth again, and this time it’s dirty, no more simmering heat but a burning, burning, burning that starts where jungkook’s blood is pulsing heavy and thick in his ears and moving to his hands, to yoongi’s palms, to - yes, something about them - yoongi’s tongue in his mouth and his hand at the back of jungkook’s neck, which makes it impossible to breathe, head spinning heart soaring jungkook can’t seem to think straight.

yoongi pulls away. jungkook inhales greedily, moving forward ever so slightly the moment they break apart.

for a moment, neither of them say anything. jungkook blinks, slow movement, still panting almost into yoongi’s mouth.

“that’s a proper kiss,” yoongi says, trying to sound unaffected but falling flat; the little strain on his voice gives him away completely. jungkook still says nothing, still dumbstruck. yoongi’s hands move from where they’re gone to rest on his waist to his arms, pulling them away from a moment putting space - space, space, cold air between them. jungkook hates it almost instinctively. “i. shit, i didn’t mean to do that.”

“didn’t mean to do that,” he echoes, unable to do much else. his eyes are still wide, on yoongi.

“yeah, i - “ he sounds defensive, ears red red red, unable to look jungkook in the eye. this is another yoongi he’s never seen, so unsure of himself. yoongi is rarely ever caught off guard. “i wasn’t planning to kiss you, but then. you were really fucking close, and i couldn’t think about anything else - listen, i was going to work on it, alright? i had a whole plan to ask you out on a date but then seokjin happened and i was just - shit, i don’t know - “

“hyung,” jungkook starts, reaching forward to grab him by the collar, “shut up.”

he kisses him again. it’s not as good as yoongi’s delivery, but it gets the message across.

jungkook: u lil shits u knew exactly what u were doing w that kiss talk

jimin: if i didn’t take one for the team, no one would have

taehyung: [yoonkook_ship_is_sailing].jpeg

#sugakookie #yoonkook

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