#I can drop a youtuber no problem They are just another form of entertainer to me

[modeus-the-misanthrope]

Watch Tulok & Mango.

On second thought, how about we just laugh at the Shaft joke and call it a day.

[stutterfly]

Tricks of the Trade | MYG (M)

Shared as part of the Similarly Sequestered game with @kpopfanfictrash​, @underthejoon​, @fortunexkookie​, @gukslut​ and me!

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Word Count: 24.1K Prompt: “The FBI doesn’t care about your porn preferences.” {Body Swap AU, Soulmates AU}

Genre: Fluff, humor, smut, oneshot

Summary: The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That's why you frequent it. It's definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you've been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you're waking up in a body that definitely doesn't belong to you. You can't decide if it's the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you.

CW & Other Tags: Anxiety attacks, language, oral sex, unprotected sex, nipple play, fingering, Agent of Chaos Jin, shopkeeper Yoongi, idiots to lovers, frenemies to lovers, bodyswap shenanigans

Pairings: Yoongi x Reader

Posted on June 23, 2020 by stutterfly and cross-posted to Ao3. I do not allow reposting, translations, or edits, to this or any other platform, including YouTube.

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The bell at the top of the door jingles as another customer walks into the store, but you pay them no mind. You’re already scanning the refrigerated drinks section for the third time, scouring the rows of cans and bottles for your beverage of choice. There’s only one kind of energy drink you want but its usual location is barren. Desperate to find what you’re searching for, you squat down to look behind the other drinks in the fridge.

“You’re not going to find any.”

The familiar, disinterested drawl of the shopkeeper has you popping up from the floor to look over at him. He wears a green apron over a black tee and a pair of faded jeans. His back is to you so he doesn’t have to see your face when you complain. He reaches up to take off his baseball cap and runs his fingers through thick locks of ebony hair before returning the cap to his head. He spares a glance over his shoulder at you, knowing you’re watching him. He sighs loudly as he continues to stock nearby shelves with boxes of cereal.

When he opened this tiny shop across from your apartment about a year ago, you thought he was cute, but he’s always seemed cold to you. The gossips around town say he’s a bit scrawny, monotone and boorish, but you like his voice and you like his style. He must be intelligent if he started this business from nothing, especially at his age. Not many people in their late twenties can say they are as independent as Yoongi.

He has confidence and pride in his values. You’ve seen him tell rude people off without a second thought and kick people out for being racist towards other customers. He puts on a front to seem unapproachable but you’ve seen him give a carton of milk to a mother who didn’t have money to pay for it, and free candy to a group of kids on a rainy day. While he pretends to be an old grump who shuffles around his shop all day, you’ve seen him get the energy to sprint around the block after a shift and then collapse at the cafe tables next door. He’s weird. He’s honest. He’s kind-hearted. It’s easy to admire him.

He bends down to pick up more boxes, and you cock your head to the side to stare at the way his ass looks in those jeans. He’s also insanely attractive. It’s no wonder you still come in here every day.

The more you see of him, the more you feel you know him, and the more you’ve grown to like him. The problem is that your relationship with the shopkeeper has shifted into a weird territory you’re not sure how to escape from. It’s not that you hate each other, but it seems you can’t hold a conversation without getting on each other’s nerves. Either you’re always saying the wrong thing or he’s pressing all the wrong buttons when he teases you.

At first you read his teasing as awkward flirting but for someone so blunt, you’ve convinced yourself he would have been straightforward and said the words out loud. I like you. Let’s get a drink. It would be easy for him to say, wouldn’t it? Despite trying to convince yourself he’s not interested, you can’t help but flirt with him at any opportunity to do so. However, you seem to forget how the moment he looks at you. It’s like your flirting skills took an exit down a shitty highway and now you’ve lost the GPS signal to navigate back to civilization.

Talking with Yoongi has become an ache you can’t seem to give up so you’ll take whatever excuse you can to keep doing so. That usually takes the form of you poking fun at one another until you hurt your own feelings. Sometimes you spend the remainder of a day thinking about the ways you can fix tomorrow’s fictitious conversation. You forgot how being infatuated with someone can make you feel so stupid. He’s not your life, just a part that you wish could be more prominent. It’s fine.

All you have to do is get your morning beverage and pastry before working your shift. Then you can focus on how nice it will feel to do nothing all weekend and catch up on TV shows.

“So…. What did you do with it? Are you hiding them from me today?” You quickly snap your eyes to his face as he twists his body to look up at you.

He scoffs. “Not me. College kids came through last night and cleared them out.”

“But you know I always get one,” you pout, crossing your arms like it’s going to make a difference.

He turns his attention back to his task, slowly stacking the boxes in silence before he clicks his tongue. “So? I can’t just hide stuff for you, you know.”

“Don’t you have more in the back? You’ve never run out of Hot6 before.”

He laughs to himself. “This isn’t a warehouse. I have to wait for product to arrive before I can restock. Just get a Red Bull. It tastes the same.”

You crinkle your nose at him. “It does not.”

He crosses the store with a roll of his eyes and a loud sigh. Before long he’s back at the register and sipping on his iced americano. “Whatever. Why do you care? It’s easier if you develop a taste for espresso. Then you don’t have to worry about that kind of thing. Besides, energy drinks aren’t that great for you, you know.”

You make a sound of disgust as you sulk your way over to the pastry cabinet. “Jeez. Do you always have to have such a stick in your ass? You act like coffee is so much better for you.”

“More caffeine, less sugar. I guarantee you it’s better,” he says with a smack of his lips against his straw.

“Whatever, Grandpa. Hmm... Muffin, muffin, muffin…” you quietly chant to yourself as your eyes rake over the racks in search of your daily pastry fix. Today seems to be against you: no muffins.

“We’re out of those too,” he says. “You know you could stand to change up your routine. Don’t you get sick of getting the same things every day?”

You bite your lip and look over the case of pastries, grabbing a simple croissant. “I like my routine, but I guess I could always stop coming here.”

“If that’s what you want.” He sighs dramatically as he leans over the counter, resting on his elbows as he surveys the store. “Well, I could enjoy a quiet morning for once.”

You roll your eyes.“Pfft. You like to argue, so I know you’d miss me.”

There’s a squeaky laugh from behind one of the shelves and as your attention shifts to the sound, a young man with dusty pink hair pokes his head up. He must be rather tall if he’s able to look over the aisles. You quirk an eyebrow at his strange laughter and wonder what kind of stranger could be so entertained by the pair of you.

“Sorry. It’s just…” He holds up a card that neither of you can really make out at this distance. “On the front it says ‘It’s Your Birthday?’ and inside it says ‘Alpaca my party hat!’. Ha! And there’s this pop-up of the alpaca with a bandana and party hat.” He giggles again as he opens and closes the card a few times and waves his hand. “Sorry. Sorry. You can continue flirting now.”

“This is not—” Your breath catches in your throat and you have to take a moment to swallow down your embarrassment before turning back towards Yoongi. “Can you believe this guy?”

He’s in the middle of taking a bite from a half-eaten muffin when your eyes meet his guilty ones. Your jaw falls open as he slowly chews and rings you up, placing the remainder of the pastry back down on the counter.

“You took the last one?”

“I had a craving.” He shrugs.

“You knew I would want it and you took it so I couldn’t have it,” you guess in a playful tone. “Was your aim to make me suffer double today? You’re so cruel, Yoongi.”

He pauses to poke his tongue against his cheek as he handles your change. “It’s not like I planned it. Don’t make me out to be some bad guy.”

“Bad guy. Tch. No, I wouldn’t go that far.” You lean forward, planting your hands on the counter and ensuring a clear sightline into your shirt. “I think you just like getting under my skin.”

He bristles at your words, taking the bait and dropping his gaze to the lace exposed for his eyes. He licks his lips and lazily lets his eyes drift back to your face, his expression unreadable. “Maybe that’s true.”

You cock your head and smirk as you stand up straight, your ego slightly inflated. “Is it really so hard to be nice to me? I’m nice to you.”

“Hah!” He breaks into an amused grin. “When?”

You’re taken aback by his response. Surely you’ve been obvious with your infatuation up to this point. You scoff. “Wha- All the time!”

His brows furrow and he crosses his arms with the change still trapped in his palm. “So complaining is a form of politeness now? Then I should be grateful for how often you shower me with kindness.”

“You know I do more than complain! I complain because you complain to me!” you pout, pointing your finger at him. “Maybe we could talk about something meaningful if you ever cared enough to ask.”

His eyebrows raise with the pitch of your voice. It’s not a big deal. This is stupid. You’re overreacting because you like him. You know he’s fucking with you so why is your face still getting hot? Even if he’s joking, he’s planted the seed in your mind that he sees you as a grumpy customer. He’s clearly never thought of you as anything but a negative start to his day. You’ve seen him be sweet but right now he feels as bitter and cold as the coffee he drinks.

“What do you think of this?” the pink-haired stranger asks, donning a pair of thick black frames with orange-tinted lenses.

The man cuts the tension from the room for a brief moment. Yoongi stares at him, his lip curled up in disgust as he slowly shakes his head. When his eyes travel back to yours they seem full of apprehension. Your name rolls off his tongue as though it’s an apology.

“Don’t ‘Y/N’ me. Just give me my change,” you grumble, reaching up for his palm.

His grip is impossible to penetrate. He smiles as you struggle to work your fingers beneath his, shaking his head like you’ve revealed some embarrassing secret. Heat builds in your face the longer you stand there fidgeting with his hand. You feel like a fool.

“You’re obnoxious. Let me count it out first,” Yoongi sneers while trying to pull his hand back.

“It’s fine.” You roll your eyes and yank his hand towards you. “I don’t need you to count it.”

“You know what I think you need?”

The other customer leans beside the counter, a new pair of glasses on his face that are twice as hideous as the first pair. As you turn to look at the stranger you can see the pair of you reflected in hues of red and yellow in those disturbingly 90s opaque lenses. It almost looks like you’re holding hands. You stiffen at the sight but keep your fingers locked against Yoongi’s calloused ones as you focus on the pricetag dangling across the man’s nose.

The stranger slowly moves a closed fist above the place where your hand and Yoongi’s meet. He waits a few seconds until you’re both focused on his hand before a flash of silver falls from his palm. You almost mistake the shapes for identical necklaces until they untangle and rotate to reveal two halves that form a heart.

The fluorescent lights of the store highlight the engraved text on each. One says ‘BEST’ while the other half reads ‘FRIENDS’. The faux-metal irritates your neck the moment you think about it touching your skin. The chains appear fragile and cheap, like they might break at the slightest amount of tension. If this guy thinks you’re going to take these he must be delusional.

You exchange a quizzical look with Yoongi as the necklaces dangle between you. He’s distracted enough that you’re able to pry your change from his sweaty palm.

“Uh. No thanks,” you say, shoving the coins in your pocket before grabbing your croissant. You take a moment to regard Yoongi with a scowl, cocking your head to the side. “See you, Grandpa.”

The stone in his gut sinks as he watches you leave but he forces his attention to the pink haired stranger in the obscenely reflective glasses.

“You know, I think she likes you,” he whispers with a wink.

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It’s been a long day but at least you don’t have to go out tomorrow. You’ve already changed into your favorite pair of comfy shorts but as you move to unbutton your work shirt something smacks against your chest. Did something get trapped in your cleavage?

“What the fuck?”

As you look down your stomach does a somersault. There’s a necklace draped around your neck with a half-broken heart pendant, etched with the word ‘BEST’. How did that guy sneak this ugly thing onto you? How did you not feel it until now? Maybe he’s some sort of street magician. Your shock is accompanied by a chuckle as you reach behind your neck to fidget with the clasp. Spinning the chain between your fingertips, you soon realize there isn’t one. This thing feels like a dollar store trinket, so you curl your fingers around the charm and pull down with all of your might. It remains secure around your neck no matter how hard you tug.

Your mind begins to break into a panic. What the fuck? What the fuck. What. The actual. Fuck.

You quickly throw on a pair of sneakers and nab the keys hanging near the door on your way out of the apartment. It's hard to believe the speed at which your feet carry you down the several flights of stairs. A couple scrambles out of the way as they watch your frenzied descent. Before long you're pressing the entirety of your body against the familiar door of the convenience store across the street.

The clerk looks up from his phone, his dark eyebrows raised in surprise as you stumble past the threshold. Your body nearly folds in half as you plant your hands on your knees and struggle to catch your breath.

"Are you alright?"

You force yourself to stand up straight to address the man standing behind the counter. The word is devoid of conviction as it leaves your mouth. "Yeah."

You know him as Tae, one of Yoongi's part-time employees. Yoongi offered him a job when he heard him say he was looking for work to supplement his endeavors to put himself through art school. You’ve seen him a lot, spoken a little here and there, and he even knows you by name now. If he's here, it's probable that his boss is not. You sigh loudly in an attempt to relieve some of the panic and frustration built up in your brain. It's not like you can just ask Tae to give you Yoongi’s number.

Tae’s wide-eyed stare indicates his concern for your well being but it’s not until he drags his gaze across your body and purses his lips that you feel something is amiss. It's at this point that you realize how much the air conditioner billows the fabric of your work shirt. Goosebumps form along your calves as all of the blood in your body rushes to your face. You quickly cross your arms over your chest to conceal the half-unbuttoned shirt and the bra that pokes out from beneath it. There’s little you can do to cover the expanse of your legs while wearing such form-fitting shorts.

“I was just… checking to see if you have any Hot6,” you say with barely a glance in the direction of the refrigerator section. “But it’s clear you’re still out.”

Tae raises his eyebrows and grants you a subtle, uncertain nod as your eyes settle on the door that reads ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY.’

“Is your boss here?” you blurt, reaching for the chain around your neck. “I’ve got a—”

Your stomach drops. It’s gone. Both of your hands instinctively smack at your collarbones, like frantically patting against your flesh will cause the necklace to reappear. You hold your shirt open wide enough to peer down at the skin of your chest with a concentrated gaze, eyes begging for any trace of the tacky piece of jewelry to resurface. Was it really just a figment of your imagination? You swear it was there. You felt it. You pulled on it. It had to be real.

You swallow hard and quickly bounce your eyes to the uncomfortable-looking cashier. All you can offer is a weak chuckle as you try to play it off by shaking out your shirt. “Sorry… I thought there was a bug."

There's an awkward, heavy silence between you as he nods with pursed lips. There's no way this poor guy believes your delusional ass. "Bossman's gone for tonight. Seemed kinda beat."

"Oh."

Your eyes settle on the countertop as your brain tries to rationalize what kind of unresolved issues at work are causing your mental breakdown. You stand there while spacing out, barely blinking. You can't believe you imagined that. Not knowing what to do, Tae walks his fingers towards the miniature cans of Red Bull stacked on the counter. He gracefully sweeps his hand around a can and offers it to you. That breaks you from your daze.

"It kinda tastes the same." He attempts to cut the tension with an endearingly awkward, close-mouthed smile. "My treat?"

If it were Yoongi saying such a thing you might scowl and tell him that he must be delusional if he thinks they're the same. Tae is a much kinder soul. You find yourself softening at his suggestion and shake your head.

"You know I should probably lay off the energy drinks now that I think about it," you say. "Have a good night, Tae."

"Goodnight, Y/N!" he calls after you as you wander back through the door. He leans over the counter. "Oh, hey wait! Do you want me to let bossman know you were looking for him?"

"It's fine!" you shout back on autopilot. You're already sinking into a pool of your own thoughts as the door closes behind you.

It was not fine.

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Sleep does not come easy despite your exhaustion. You find yourself tossing and turning all night. When the light begins to stream through your blinds it seems to strike at the perfect angle to blind your fluttering eyes. You pull the blankets up over your head even though you know it’s of no use; you’re already awake and there’s no going back to sleep now.

You stretch out with a yawn as you sleepily shuffle from the bed to the tiny bathroom around the corner of your room. It’s easy to apply toothpaste to your toothbrush on autopilot, taking a moment to rub your knuckles against an eye before glancing up towards the mirror. How bad is the bedhead today?

The sight that greets you causes you to drop your toothbrush in the sink and stumble back out of the doorway. Your fingers grip the frame to keep you on your feet, your attention quickly drawn to the thick digits situated there. As you force yourself forward, you support yourself with one hand on the counter and bring the other up for inspection. The foreign hand trembles as you turn it back and forth while trying to catch the breath that keeps running away from you. Anxiety sinks its teeth deeper into your lungs, causing a puncture that has you gasping for air.

Calluses adorn your fingertips, accompanied by scratches and scars from moments you've never experienced. Your nails are jagged and short, devoid of the pleasing pink color you applied to them two days ago. You dread the journey your eyes threaten to make towards the mirror once again but you find that you are unable to stop them. The face staring back at you with saucer-wide eyes is none other than Min Yoongi.

Your head feels light. This face is fake. You gasp for the air you can't seem to get enough of and stumble out of the bathroom. The walls seem to wobble in place as you race towards the living room where you can feel the breeze flowing through the window you left open last night. This world is fake. Nothing is real. Air will fix this. If you could just breathe like a normal person everything would be okay.

You fall to your knees within spitting distance of the window. For all the air your body greedily sucks inward, your mind feels bereft of any. Your vision goes dark.

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Yoongi does his best to make his way up the stairs with poise, but he's almost sure it looks like a waddle more than anything. His thighs --your thighs-- are chafing from the run here and each step is a painful reminder of the irritated flesh still rubbing together beneath these sweatpants. At least one of your neighbors was kind enough to let him into the main entrance. They must have recognized the face he mysteriously woke up with. Luckily your mailbox has your last name on it and as much as you might disagree he does pay attention when you talk.

He tries to wipe the sweat from his brow as he bends down to plant his hands on his knees. Even as his breath recovers, he grows increasingly frustrated with how heavy his chest feels. He repeatedly pushes the hair from his face with a groan, wishing he had taken the scissors to it when he had the opportunity earlier. He takes off the cap atop his head, runs his fingers through his hair, and places it back on his head. Everything is too much. You need to fix this. Take it back.

The faster he tries to ascend the stairs, the more he aches. He finally gives up on looking civil when he decides there's no one else in the stairwell to judge him. After all they'll only remember you anyway so what does it matter? He rolls the sweatpants up above his knees and cups the breasts hidden beneath the oversized sweater for support as he scrambles up the last few floors.

He grimaces at the dainty pink fingernails before curling his hand into a fist and rapping his knuckles against your door. He puffs his cheeks out and expels a long breath. What could you possibly be doing? You have to be in there. He tries the handle to no avail. Are you still asleep? He quickly abandons the need for subtlety and places both palms on the door and drums loudly against it. The sound of the deadbolt unlocking tells him he shouldn't hesitate. He's through the door before you can even properly get off your knees.

Somehow you knew what would be waiting for you on the other side. The sight before you has your mind reeling. That's your body, but it's not you. Could it really be Yoongi? You did not get Freaky-Friday'd with him. There's no fucking way this is reality. You can feel yourself panicking again as you back away from the figure, falling back on your ass. You watch yourself look down at you with a look of disgust.

"What are you doing?" That's definitely your voice.

Your body takes slow steps towards you as it crosses one arm over the other. You lean back on your elbows and groan. It's a deep sound, deeper than anything that's come from your throat even on your sickest day. This isn’t happening.

"Oh my god. I'm fucking dying," you murmur while tilting your head towards the ceiling. "Everything is fake. Nothing is real. I’m going crazy. Please let me rot."

The figure bends down and leans over into your field of vision. The image of your face frowns back at you and pokes you in the chest with a pointed fingernail.

“Stop that.”

“I can’t,” you whine between heavy breaths. “I feel like I’m gonna pass out again.

“Y/N. Look at me.”

Those perfectly manicured hands reach out for your shoulders in comfort but you fall flat on your back and your arm flies up to cover your eyes.Tears sting at them as reality warbles around you again. Seeing your own face hovering above you definitely isn’t helping you feel more sane.

"I don't know what's happening," you sob.

With each breath you suck between your quivering lips, your chest aches. Suddenly that pair of hands is cupping your jaw and pushing your arm aside. You look into the eyes you are already so familiar with, but they seem far more caring than you’ve ever managed to display.

"We need to undo whatever is happening right now," he says calmly. "You don't have to like it. You don't have to tell me you're okay. But I need you to sit up and pull yourself together long enough to help me figure this out. Can you do that?"

You swallow hard and nod slowly as you take the hand offered to you. A half-smirk appears on his lips; it's strange to see yourself reflected with such warmth, especially knowing it's coming from Yoongi.

"Good. Now please go change. I can't look at those shorts anymore.”

You look down at your attire for the first time and realize how absurd Yoongi’s body looks in the clothing you wore to bed. The skimpy tank top clings to the muscular, flat chest you now possess. Worse still, you can see bits of flesh poking out against that hairy inner thigh below. You squeeze your eyes shut and pretend like you can forget what you just saw sticking out of your shorts.

You take a deep breath as your face burns with embarrassment. “Okay. Give me your pants.”

He stiffens at your demand and scoffs. “What?”

“I don’t have anything that will fit you— er, I mean, me. Us?” You gesture at your body and stare at the floor, trying to will yourself to not dissociate. “This. You can’t be comfortable either.”

There’s a sigh before he plops down on your couch with legs spread wide open. “My back hurts and my thighs rubbed together so much I don’t want to move anymore.”

You can’t help but laugh at the admission. At least he feels your pain. He looks up at you while reclining his head on the cushion behind him. You’re not hyperventilating anymore so distraction seems to be the key to keeping you relatively calm.

“Why you, of all people?” he wonders.

You roll your eyes and stomp across the room and disappear into your bedroom. “Hmph. I was about to ask you the same thing. This is bullshit.”

You come back with a handful of carefully selected clothes and strappy undergarments that you know for a fact flatter your shape. If he has to walk around in your skin the least he can do is make it look good. You pause halfway down the hall and swallow hard as it dawns on you that he’s going to have to get naked in order to change, which means he’s unavoidably going to be looking at your body without any barriers. You decide you’re going to be strong and you simply won’t think about it or acknowledge it as a possibility.

He’s busy chewing one of your nails when you reach the living room again. You hug the clothes close to your chest and storm across the room.

“Do you bite your nails?! Ew! God, no wonder yours are so jagged and gross,” you complain, thrusting the clothes into his lap.

He offers an apologetic look before glancing down at the attire you’ve supplied with raised eyebrows. He picks up the bra with one finger and grimaces at the way it dangles off his digit. He’s looking up at you with pleading eyes shortly after it falls back in his lap. It’s hard to avoid his gaze. You feel those pupils boring into your skull as you dart your eyes away to focus on the floor.

You clear your throat and muster every last bit of courage you possess. “Um… Your clothes, please?”

He inhales loudly through his nose and you watch the grey sweatpants pool around the toenails you just painted last night. You swallow hard and scramble to pick them up when they slide across the wooden floor to you. You clutch them to your chest, quickly catching the scent of your sweat and arousal on them. Maybe he hasn’t noticed? Trying to suppress the mortification growing in your chest, you purse your lips and trail your gaze back up to his face--your face. Thankfully the hoodie covers your sex and you’re hoping he hasn’t bothered taking a peek before coming here.

“Don’t… Don’t look,” you plead. So much for not acknowledging it.

He’s feeding his arm through one of the sleeves when he freezes in place and locks eyes with you. “I should tell you I woke up shirtless,” he mumbles. As if to lessen the blow of his admission, he continues with a pout, “But you can’t blame me for looking. It’s hard not to look at a pair of perfect tits that mysteriously appear in the middle of the night. What was I supposed to do?”

Perfect tits? You’d almost be flattered if it wasn’t so fucking morifying to know he’s already seen you. Your eyes screw shut and you nod. “Right.”

This is fine. This is absolutely fine.

“Hey,” he calls softly, prodding you to open your eyes. “Here.”

He keeps eye contact with you while feeding his other arm through the sleeve. Watching yourself strip without performing the act is bizarre. He holds the sweater out for you to slowly take. It eases your mind to see his gaze never wavered. Yours drops to the nude form before you and suddenly you’re criticizing every curve and flaw you can find. It’s as though you’re simply standing before a mirror and feeding your insecurity with needless scrutiny. Despite this, Yoongi remains focused on your face and the discomfort you display so openly at seeing your own form stripped bare. Almost bare. That beat-up baseball cap he wears every day now adorns your head like a crown for your mediocrity.

You spin on your heels and speedwalk down the hall. “I’ll be right back.”

It’s hard to ignore the new appendage you’ve acquired but you make sure to shut your eyes while peeling the shorts from your thighs and sliding the sweatpants up in their stead. While you rushed through the bottom half of your attire, you stop for a minute to inspect Yoongi’s bare pectorals. It’s all too easy to get lost in the sight of his body in the mirror. You subconsciously lick your lips and run your fingers across your flat, hard chest.

Your thumb circles a brown nipple and you watch with satisfaction as it grows hard at your touch. Your palms press down over your stomach, feeling the muscles hidden just below the surface of soft flesh. You grab at your hips, fingers threatening to dart below the band of your pants. Instead you suck air in through your nose and scold yourself for such weakness. You’re about to tug the sweater over your head when Yoongi silently enters and flops down on the bed face-first.

“Yoongi? Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?!” you shriek in your haste to cover up your own moment of weakness.

There’s a muffled response spoken into the mattress that you can’t quite understand.

"What?" Annoyance is a front for your embarrassment.

He turns his head to one side and sighs. "There are too many straps. Why did you pick such a difficult one?"

You definitely selected something with a lot of extra straps for a reason but you bite your lip and try to come up with an excuse that seems plausible. The truth is that you wanted to pick something sexy because you wanted him to see you as such. Does he care though? It's hard to tell. You decide the best excuse is to dismiss the question altogether.

"Stop being such a baby. I'll help you."

As he lifts his head to cringe in your direction, you're already out the door. He pounds his forehead against the mattress again and squeezes his eyes shut. There's clearly no logical explanation for this, so what is the next step to take? What should the pair of you do? Is this permanent? There has to be a way to undo whatever has happened. In order to figure that out he's trying to piece together the source of this predicament. No matter how hard he wracks his brain for answers to the puzzle, there still seems to be pieces missing.

"Get up. Come on," you huff, tugging at his arm.

The sound he makes is pitiful and whiny as he rises. It's easy enough to see where his arms are supposed to go when you've already bunched all of the material together. You step behind him and fiddle with the fit around the familiar mounds of flesh at his front. He instinctively looks down to watch how his own familiar fingers slide beneath the bra. He pries his eyes away just as quickly to find he has a much better view of the pair of you in the mirror.

There's a sight he'd never thought he'd see: both of you shirtless with his hands in your bra. It's not that he's never wanted it. It's just that he always seems to fuck it up when it comes to being social, with you in particular. Maybe it's because he likes you too much. There's never been a proper opportunity to make a move outside of work and he knows his flirting skills are abysmal. But looking at the reflection of the pair of you now fills him with equal amounts of desire and confidence.

Just as you’re about to clasp the first strap behind his neck you glance up and find yourself lost in the same reflection. An electric blush creeps up your spine and causes a tingle in your cheeks that makes you freeze like a deer caught in headlights. He hums a soft sound and makes the decision to reach back for your wrist. For a moment you’re not sure if you’re moving or if he is but you find yourself enjoying the sight of Yoongi’s thick fingers dipping below the fabric of your bra.

“Yoongi?” you ask, jaw hanging slack as the bra slips a bit further down.

“Do you feel that?” The voice is quiet as he lets you trace fingers along the soft skin. “It pinches there.”

That pinch is a familiar one but you always tell yourself that’s the price of beauty. The straps chafe. The underwire digs into your ribs. It’s uncomfortable. But it’s the sexiest-looking thing you own so comfort be damned. You watch it slide further down to reveal one of your nipples in the reflection of the mirror; it’s impossible to look away. So much for him not looking anymore. You can’t blame him because it’s impossible for you to take your eyes off it too. The sight of Yoongi’s thick fingers trailing along the side of your breast sends a surge of excitement through your veins.

Goosebumps form a path where your fingers have traced and Yoongi exhales a shaky breath. The sound makes you chew on your bottom lip in contemplation. Is he feeling just as turned on right now? You try to remind yourself that the mirror is a lie. He’s not touching you. You’re touching him, regardless of how it looks. You can’t let your feelings cloud your judgement. It’s so fucking hard to think straight now that you’re together like this, not just because he’s here in your room but because he’s experiencing the unique arousal of his body while trapped in yours.

“Being a girl sucks. What am I supposed to do about it?” Your fingers tremble as you force your eyes to meet his in the mirror.

The action does not go unnoticed. He smirks and quirks a brow but chooses to let it slide without commenting. “Give me something easy and comfy.”

“But—” You hesitate. Do you really need to argue about this? You can’t explain it without admitting your feelings towards him. It seems like an inopportune time, more so than usual. It’s better if you can just shut the fuck up for two seconds and work on the important task at hand: figuring out how to get back to normal.

He immediately fills the gap with an objection of his own. “Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t,” you say in the flattest tone you can muster.

He turns around to get a better read on your body language but you’re already rummaging through your drawers. You toss a sports bra with a front-facing zipper at him while you don the sweater and slip into the bathroom to relieve yourself. It’s best to avoid situations like that again if you can.

Yoongi takes this moment to inspect the room, crinkling his nose at the several empty cans of Hot6 stacked on top of your dresser. He brings a long manicured nail to his teeth and begins working it back and forth as he slides the folding closet door open with a finger. Much to his surprise your wardrobe is filled with t-shirts that look much more comfortable than the piece you previously selected. He’s quick to trade shirts and carefully replaces the clothing on the hanger before sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning back on his elbows. Comfy. Finally. His attention is drawn to the closed bathroom door. It’s been a while. Are you okay?

“You better not be passed out in there,” he whines, making sure to sound extra annoying for you.

The attempt to conceal the concern in his tone is successful but he’s happy you’re not able to see his worried expression. If you knew how badly he wants to freak out, you might actually start hyperventilating again. He’d like to avoid that. The door swings open and you exhale deeply. You’re not about to tell him you had to wait out the boner because then he’d probably make fun of you. He watches you take a few steps forward while wedging a nail between his teeth.

“Are you biting my fucking nails again?”

“Yup.”

You’re already scrambling across the bed and by the time he moves to shuffle backwards you have his wrists pinned against your soft comforter and you’re straddling his waist. Oh god. This is too fucking hot to be doing with him while he’s in your body. Abort. Abort!

It’s now that you note he’s wearing a soft cotton t-shirt you definitely did not pick out. “Yoongi, did you—”

“These clothes are better. Did you give me the most uncomfortable things you own just to make me suffer for stealing your muffin?”

Between the sports bra and the t-shirt he’s selected the curves of your body are lost to your eyes and your heart sinks. There goes any chance you had of him thinking your body is sexy. He’s expecting a tongue lashing but you sigh instead and release your hold on him, quickly climbing off his form before you can let your body get you into trouble. You search for the laptop that you know is hidden just beneath the covers near your pillows.

“Pfft. Look, maybe we can google what happened to us and not get Freaky Friday movie reviews. You wanna see if it works?”

He offers a half smirk in response and he’s quiet only for a second before he hums a sound of distaste. It’s an accusation and you know it. He quickly scoots back towards the pillows so he can sit beside you.

You scowl as you mistype your own password. “Ugh. What?”

“I’m just wondering why you’re so mad.”

“I’m not.”

You make sure to broadcast the fact that you’re definitely not mad by repeatedly tapping the delete key in a slow, deliberate motion.

“Why does your face look like that then?” he prods while folding his hands across his lap.

“Like what? You of all people should know that your face always looks this grumpy.”

As he rests his head against the fluffy material behind him, he lazily rolls his head towards you. “Y/N.”

You dramatically throw your head back against the pillows and mirror his stare. “Yoongi.”

“What is it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you mumble.

“It clearly does,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “We have to work together to figure this out, so some honesty might be nice.”

You open the laptop and stare at the password screen for a moment with a longing sigh. “Fine. I look gross in those,” you admit with a brief glance at his attire. “You’re making me look like an unsexy blob.”

He scoffs. “What? Is that all? You’re being ridiculous. These clothes don’t matter at all. We both know what you look like underneath them. Honestly, you could be wearing a trashbag and still be sexy.”

“To whom?” You want to laugh at how absurd his explanation sounds. “What kind of lunatic would think that?”

He blinks slowly and raises his eyebrows with a calculated clench of his jaw. “Me. For starters.”

He’s stiff as he purses his lips and crosses his arms. He stares at the login screen, waiting for you to type your password. “And any sane man or woman with a pair of eyes and a brain.”

Your mouth falls open in disbelief mid-stroke. Was that a confession? Your head might as well be full of helium with how high you’re feeling. This has to be a dream. If the insane concept of switching bodies with Yoongi isn’t enough to solidify it, those words sure are. You have to be dreaming.

Your eyes remain locked onto the fingers now resting against the keys. “Do you really think that?”

“Yes.” The response comes quicker than expected but instead of giving you time to ruminate on it, he nudges you with his elbow. “Password.”

Your shoulders lift with a deep inhale through your nose and drop back down with the subsequent forceful exhale through your lips. What are you supposed to do with that information? You feel your consciousness try to lift into the aether. If you could only make it float back into your own body, you might have the courage to say something, anything. With your mind drifting away, your fingers move of their own accord as they type in the password to your laptop.

"Whoa, what the fuck is that?"

The video you'd left open last night starts up with a preview that brings you back to reality, but not fast enough.

"D-Don't look! It's private!" you screech.

Heat pulses through the veins along the sides of your forehead. Precious seconds have already been wasted by the time you frantically scramble to close the tab. He's seen the keywords in the search bar and the nastiest bits of that particular video. You're fucking mortified.

“I mean that’s definitely a couple privates," he jokes with a laugh. "You seriously just leave your porn out like that?"

”Incognito mode, Yoongi," you sneer while pulling up a new tab. "I don’t need you or my FBI guy judging me.”

He snorts. “Oh come on, Y/N. The FBI doesn’t care about your porn preferences. And neither do I. Besides, you technically looked at it with my eyes already.”

He taps the side of your forehead gently as if you needed the reminder that you're not in your own skin and you swat him away. You quickly type the phrase “body swap” into the search bar and try to focus on the resulting web pages even though you’re distracted by the blood leaving your brain in favor of other body parts.

"Can you just… Shut up for one second?"

"Hey, I'm just saying..." He clicks his tongue thoughtfully as he scooches closer to you. "You’re into some good stuff. We might have more in common than I thought."

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at the physical contact and send a tingling electricity down your abdomen. You clear your throat and reposition the computer over your lap as you feel yourself growing harder. You stare down at the two fingers settled on the trackpad rather than the information on screen. Try as you might to remain inconspicuous, suddenly all you can think about are those thick fingers rubbing hard circles against your clit while the two of you watch porn together. Bad thought. Baaaaaad. You attempt to pass the laptop over to him as discreetly as possible while shifting your pelvis away towards the edge of the bed.

“I’m…” You flounder for an excuse to leave the room and get these racing hormones under control. “...pee.”

“What?” There's a quizzical expression branded upon his features that toes the line of disgust.

“I have to pee,” you quickly correct while tactically holding your forearm over your lap. If there is such a thing as fate, why is it torturing you like this?

“Again?”

You push the laptop towards him once more and pray that he’ll just let you go be embarrassed alone in the bathroom for five minutes. Instead he looks down at the way your forearms cross your pelvis and exudes a deep, throaty laugh that sounds foreign in the tenor of your voice. That laughter travels through your head like it’s made of hot coals.

“Wow. Got a boner, huh?”

Your cheeks are made of fire. Literal fire. They feel like they should melt straight through your skin and torch your brain yet here you are: still alive and wishing you would burn to death. God is dead. There is no mercy in this universe.

"Don't fucking laugh at me! I can't control it!"

When he laughs harder, the urge to silence him overtakes all rational thought. You reach for a lock of hair sticking out from beneath his cap and pull hard. He hisses through his teeth and you smirk, knowing what kind of response this would normally elicit from your body. Will it affect him the same, or is the sexual response guided by mental preference rather than physical? Maybe it’s both. It seems to have some effect because he’s stopped laughing.

Yoongi shivers as goosebumps riddle his arms and prickle along his chest until his nipples are threatening to poke holes through the thin fabric of the bra and t-shirt. His jaw tightens and on instinct his hand shoots up to grasp at the short black hair adorning your head in retaliation. He catches himself before he pursues the motion of yanking down. What is he doing? Can he really be so bold with you? He knows you, but not like this. Things are strange right now but if he keeps going they're bound to get stranger. If the butterflies in his stomach weren't enough to tip him off to his attraction to you, even like this, the wetness between these thighs solidifies the magnetism you hold over him.

A pitiful sound escapes your lips that hints at your disappointment. “Mmm?"

He pauses there to inspect your expression, tilting his head as though it will give him a better read. He should be able to interpret his own expression but looking at his face through your eyes doesn't seem to help at all. Because he's studied your features for so long it's hard to see what you're feeling now that he can't see them at work. His palm flattens against your scalp and he allows his fingers to wander through the thick black hair he's combed out a million times. Somehow it feels softer in your hands. Soon he finds his hand cupping the back of your neck. Labored breaths swim in the space between the pair of you, but it's hard to tell who they belong to.

"What are you doing?" you whisper as your fingers reach for the brim of his cap.

"What are you doing?" he echoes back.

Have your eyes always looked so fierce, or is it his persona breathing a dark fire into them now? You flick the cap off his head, which releases all the hair he had trapped underneath it. You push it back from his face and tangle your fingers within it.

"Pretending like this isn't just you wanting to make out with yourself to see what it's like," you answer, staring at the reflection in his eyes. "You?"

There's a smirk that grows into a full blown grin within seconds. "Trying to convince myself that it isn't insane to want to make out with myself just to see what it's like."

You scoff and drop your hands to his shoulders to give him a firm push back. "Dick."

He giggles at the way you pout and halfheartedly pushes the laptop towards the other side of the bed. The hand still on the back of your neck travels up to massage your scalp and suddenly you're putty in his palm. His other hand trails along your stubbly jaw until his fingers are nestled behind your ear. As he glances down at the tent in your pants he laughs.

"Still hard?"

"Like your nipples," you grumble.

You reach out and twist the peaks barely hidden beneath his shirt; it's an impulse you don't refuse. This time he moans.

"Oh, you liked that, hmm? I bet you're so fucking wet right now," you whisper, embracing your boldness.

You watch his eyes roll with the flutter of his lashes at your words. Both of his hands glide through your hair and he begins to flex his fingers around some strands. He alternates between releasing his gentle grip on your locks and twisting his fingers back into them. You’re making him crazy. Should he even bother trying to compose himself at this point?

“What?” you prod, pushing the limits of his endurance for such brattiness. “Aren’t you going to pull my hair, Yoongi?”

The way he glares at you causes your skin to break out in a series of goosebumps. How can you be shivering when your body was just doing its best impression of molten rock? Yoongi. That’s the answer. You whimper a pathetic sound as his knuckles curl towards your scalp. The motion brings your forehead down to meet his and your eyelids flutter closed. He focuses heavy breaths out through his nose and stares at the lips he knows are his own. They may be part of his usual physical appearance but right now they’re a part of yours.

“You’re so fucking obnoxious.”

He sucks his bottom lip through his teeth and moves towards you before he can second guess what he's about to do. His lips seem to meld with yours and your eyes pop open to be sure this is really happening. Is this really happening? You see your own nose and heavy lidded eyes peeking open just enough to roll back in pleasure.

The hands buried in your hair drop to cradle your jaw and you can feel the stubble scraping against the delicate skin of his fingers as he drags his hands slowly towards your chin. You melt into his touch and hold your breath like you'll never inhale another again. Suddenly you're kissing him back and no amount of lightheadedness can stop you.

Oh shit. This is happening. It’s not anything like your daydreams but it’s real and it feels so fucking good. It feels surreal. It feels too surreal. Maybe the lightheadedness can stop you. It's you, but it's not. Your eyes open again and you find a battle of anxiety raging in your brain. He pauses to peck the edge of your mouth when he realizes you're no longer kissing him back.

"What are you doing?" he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours. “Did I… read that wrong?”

“No! No, I’ve wanted to do that for a while. It’s just…” A laugh bubbles from your throat and you shake your head before bursting into a fit of giggles. “This is weird.”

Relief washes over his features and he smiles as he leans back to look at you. “It’s definitely unique. But I can’t say I want to stop.”

His admission fills you with a fresh wave of tingles up your spine. “Me neither. I… still want you.”

You sheepishly turn your head to the side and find the mirror lining the closet wall, looking at the image of the pair of you as if it will save you from the embarrassment of your own words.

"What? Now you're getting shy?" he teases while following you gaze to the reflection. It dawns on him that he can enjoy the view. "Or do you just want to watch?"

He moves towards your lips slowly while keeping focused on the mirror, watching your eyes lazily roll back behind your lids and revelling in the whine this pulls from you.

“Look,” he pleads in low whisper, angling your body so you can get a better view. “Look how good you look with your tongue on my neck.”

Your head lolls around just in time to see exactly that before the sensation snaps across your nerve endings. He latches on, sucking light bruises into the tender flesh. He knows where to put his tongue to have you gripping the back of his neck and arching your back up towards him. He smirks as he glances at the mirror, licking a hot stripe up to your ear where he teasingly nibbles on the lobe.

"Does it look as hot when I--when you...?" You flounder on your words in between soft pants, your eyes trained on the reflection.

He counters with a whisper, “Do you want to find out?”

“I’m… curious,” you admit, leaning your head back to give him access to more of your neck.

“You want to know how it feels,” he lazily mumbles against your neck. “Hmm. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it.”

“It’s a unique opportunity,” you say, trying to convince yourself that proposing the idea isn’t weird at all. “Maybe we just… See?”

“Right. This is a unique opportunity,” he echoes in agreement, burying his face into the crook of your neck. His voice is muffled as he sighs a heated breath against your skin. “We should take advantage of it.”

“I mean, as long as you don’t tell anyone.”

He pops his head up to look at you, his brows knotted in confusion. “Who would believe me?”

You shake your head and smirk. “I guess you’re right.”

There’s a moment where the concept of time seems to evaporate. You both stare at each other like you’re seeing your own faces for the first time, like it’s the first time you both can actually love and accept yourselves as you are. It’s easier to be gentle with someone else, but now that someone else is technically also a part of you it brings a level of clemency to your feelings regarding your appearance. You like yourself better now that you can see a part of him there.

“Will you show me how you like it?” he asks with a tilt of his head.

“If you show me, too,” you say with a gentle rock of your hips towards him.

“You first.”

Your mouth is already covering the soft expanse of his neck, dragging your teeth with just enough pressure to tease the skin. He watches you work up and down through the mirror, feeling the arousal between his legs building. As you're kissing a path back towards his mouth he takes a chance and swings his leg over your midriff so he's kneeling just above the throbbing cock hidden beneath the thin layer of gray fabric. The jeans dig a hard line into his stomach and limit the range of his spread.

"These pants are horrible," he complains.

"Take them off if you hate them so much," you agree between hungry kisses. It's impossible to keep your eyes from the mirror. He hooks his fingers beneath your sweater and begins working it upwards, stopping only to rest a palm on your chest.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He trails his fingers down the flat expanse until he gets to your navel, passing over the dark hair leading down into your pants. He tugs at the place where the hair begins to grow thicker and laughs when you hiss an expletive.

He quickly pulls the oversized sweater upwards. Instead of helping you out of it, he clutches the fabric with both hands as you bring your arms above your head and presses you back into the mattress. You find your bent elbows trapped in the sleeves.

“How about this?” he whispers. “Do you like this?”

“Yes.” You look down at the delicious pectorals he’s exposed, practically salivating at the sight of those pert nipples. “Yoongi, please.”

He smirks as he runs his fingers down your chest, ignoring the nipples you wish he would do something about. Lower. Lower. His hand travels behind him until suddenly your body spasms with pleasure from the practiced grip he’s placed on the cock standing at attention behind him.

“This? Does it feel good when I touch you like this?”

“Fuck! Yes. Please. Yes!”

Just as quickly as his hand pressed against your clothed erection, it’s gone, leaving you a whimpering mess. He plants a kiss beside one of your nipples, but denies it any direct contact.

"Stop teasing me," you whine. The pressure in your chest builds with every second that passes and you feel like your heart is going to burst.

He lets out a lofty sigh as he sits back on his thighs, promptly removing his t-shirt. "But you make it so easy..."

You wiggle out of the arms of the sweater and sit up to unsnap the button to his jeans. You kiss up his stomach until he’s unzipping the bra and letting you nip at the supple flesh for a moment. He discards the bra like it’s nothing before rolling over to unzip his pants. He peels them from his legs along with the soaked panties. It’s hard to not look at the mirror as he climbs over your waist. If he holds any shame for being nude in front of you, it’s not apparent in his current form. Your face, however, feels hot. Your body is exposed and he keeps looking at it, groping those breasts with his hands.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he says quietly, admiring the reflection as he plays with his nipples between his fingers.

You want to bury your face in something to hide your embarrassment so you plant your face between his tits and begin to suck bruises into the soft flesh beside his fingers.

“Oh fuck.” The sight of his own face diving between those squishy tits is enough to make his body involuntarily flex in ways he’s never experienced before.

“How does it feel?” you murmur, slowly licking a path to one of his nipples and lightly dragging your teeth along it.

The sound he makes when he moans has you shivering all over again. He lets his head fall back for a second and then he looks at you. “Like I want you to touch me.”

Now you’re the one who smirks with confidence. “Lay back.”

He snaps the band at your waist as he rolls off of you. “These. Off.”

Manicured fingers slip down to rub some of the tension from the swollen bud between his legs as he watches you awkwardly push the pants down past the cock begging to be touched. You try to avoid looking at it. It’s hard not to feel exposed even though it’s not your body. You scramble back into the bed as quickly as you can. His laughter catches you off guard.

“You’re so shy now. Look at it. Feel it,” he urges. “Grab my cock.”

You try to be casual about your downward glance but the way you lick your lips is anything but casual. You press your thumb into the base of the cock to admire its shape from a 90 degree angle. It’s average in terms of length but your mouth waters at the sight of the bulging veins and increased girth just below the swollen tip. You don’t bother to resist the urge to grip the shaft. You drag your hand up and trace your thumb around the fleshy mauve tip. The sensation causes you to shiver. It’s so sensitive.

As you’re admiring the way it tapers towards the base, soft, thinner fingers curl around yours and begin to guide them into a slow, controlled pumping motion that sets your nerves alight.

He quirks a brow at you. “What do you think?”

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you choke out with a held breath. Greedy gasps break the small silence that follows. Has it always been so hard to speak while masturbating? It’s not like you’re terrible at dirty talk so why are you hesitating?

“Do you need me to stop?”

You fervently shake your head and follow it with a needy groan. “No. Please… Keep going.” You hope he never stops.

“Then use your words” he urges, placing his hand over yours to slow your pace to a crawl.

You whimper. It’s a pathetic sound created with his voice in his throat, yet it still somehow sounds so deliciously like you. While he finds himself attracted to your usual body, it doesn’t bother him that you’re currently assuming a different form. Looks are fleeting anyway. It’s the person inside he’s grown attached to, the caring soul he feels connected to.

He’s seen you stare at the bulletin board near the restroom and tear off the tabs of creative community activities to benefit those in need. If he wasn’t so busy managing the store all the time he would have been able to sign up for those events too. He’s seen you volunteer at the homeless shelter just around the corner. He’s seen you cradling posters for your neighbor’s missing cat— he’d even let you keep one on the door to his store until you told him they found it.

The truth is that your soul is so beautiful and full that he’d want you no matter what you looked like. If only he had the courage to say that. But it's easier to hide behind snark.

“It feels so good,” you whine. “I wish I could put my mouth all over it. Bet you’d fill me so good.”

A growl escapes with his exhale and he guides your fist up and down the girth between your legs with increased vigor. He gently leads you by the dick, pulling you closer to the bed until your knees hit the side.

“Look in the mirror, Y/N. Watch,” he whispers in a low tone, almost begging you to keep your eyes on the reflection.

You do as he says and watch in awe as a set of manicured fingers tap against your chest and trail down to the cock still nestled in your fist. They work their way beneath your palm and shoo your hand away. Even knowing that Yoongi is behind the action, the sight of your hands stroking that perfect cock sets a fire of desire coursing through your veins.

You watch in the mirror as your lips plant kisses on the dark hair beneath Yoongi’s navel. You watch as your head sinks lower and lower until soft, plush lips are skimming the tip of his dick. You watch his length slide into your mouth and immediately your knees threaten to buckle.

His hands are already reaching up to stabilize your stance even as he glides his tongue against you. The pleasure is unlike anything you’ve felt before, but having your clit sucked and teased comes close. It’s heaven. You whimper a tortured sound sitting somewhere between the boundaries of pleasure and anguish. He plays your role so well, maybe even better than you could play it. You attempt to distract yourself from the nervous tremble of your thighs by gathering bits of his hair in your hands and balling it in your fists. He gargles out a muffled moan against you.

“I look so good sucking your pretty cock,” you whisper in awe.

He leans back to swipe his tongue over the slit and then sinks back down, nose hitting the tuft of dark hair at your pelvis as you bottom out in his throat. Your grip around his hair tightens with the slight rock of your hips. You press his face against your crotch like you never want him to leave. The pair of you look so fucking hot. You’re revelling in slow, shallow thrusts deep in his throat when he makes a gagging noise you know all too well. He grips your thighs and you immediately release your hold while pulling your hips back.

“Fuck I’m so sorry!” Heat rises in your face and you want to run and hide.

He rests his palm on your waist and catches his breath, a trail of sticky precum and thick spit connecting his mouth to your cock. It involuntarily flexes and bobs up towards your stomach and then back down, which severs the path of saliva.

“Don’t be. That was hot.” He wipes his lips with the back of his hand.

“Yoongi, you didn’t have to! I mean I was curious but I—”

You’re cut off by his harsh tug on your hands. You stumble forward and meet his dark gaze. How can he make your eyes look so hungry?

“I’m a firm believer in never asking someone to do what I wouldn’t. I like to know what I’m giving, don’t you?”

“God, I wish that were me. I want to taste you so bad,” you whine, licking your lips as you spare a glance down at the glistening appendage standing at attention between your legs. “Wanna taste you dripping off my tongue.”

“You can,” he assures you in a soft voice, cupping your face with his hands.

His lips are on yours in an instant and you’re moaning against them like you’ll never get enough. The salty tang on his tongue transfers to yours as it dips into your mouth. You wish you could take him into your mouth yourself, but this is a good substitute for now.

"You taste good," you pant between kisses. "Why haven't we done this sooner?"

He pulls away to shrug, cocking his head to the side and focusing on your neck. "If you want something you have to speak up. No one can read minds and even if they could, often times people are so wrapped up in their own heads they'd never see what you think.”

"Wow, getting philosophical on me, huh? So… What? I'm just supposed to say, ‘Hey yoongi you're hot. Wanna fuck’?"

"That's a little blunt don't you think?" He laughs, allowing you to push him back onto the mattress. "Been holding that back long?"

Your heart skips a beat, heat flushing your ears. "Maybe. Would it have made a difference?”

He ponders this for a moment as he squints at the ceiling in concentration. "Mmm. I'd say you should at least buy me dinner first… "

You scoff. It’s not a no but it’s not an enthusiastic yes either. You climb onto the mattress, trying to ignore how casually he lays in your bed, completely barren before you.

He rolls onto his side and props his head up to survey your approach. You seem a little nervous so it’s easier for him to fake confidence for both your sakes. "I guess we're both guilty of not saying what we mean."

"What is it you really mean to say then?" If he’s got a juicy secret he’s been holding in, then you want to know to salvage what’s left of your pride.

"I give you shit but I like that you come into the store every day to get your muffin and your gross energy drink. I like when you come back in after just to bitch about your day and pretend like you need a snack that I never see you eat. I like when you ask me about my day, even though you know I’m shit at conversation. It makes me happy because I care about…" he hesitates when he sees your smug grin. "...”

“Yes?” you prod.

He draws a deep breath from his belly. “You. I care about you. I’ve never found an opportunity to tell you that I like you. I’m always working, keeping my store afloat, focused on the numbers and the success of my business. But I see you coming out of that building every day. I watch for you to make sure even after a year of this that you’re still coming here first. It’s crazy but you put me at ease and make me anxious at the same time. I feel like I know you, like I’ve known you all my life.”

He pauses to allow you to interject. When you don’t, he continues, “I feel it in my bones when you smile at me, when you roll your eyes at me, when you try to make me laugh... You’re so easy to fall for. I know that I’m not, but sometimes you look at me and I feel like you want to. I want you to. I wish you would come back when I’m locking up for the night so that I could see you outside of work, so I could take you out, so I could take you home. A thousand possibilities are always running through my head when it comes to you and I freeze when I think about acting on any of them. That’s what I don’t say.”

“Yoongi…” you finally whisper.

Your face scrunches up like you’re about to cry and he grimaces at you, knowing you’re definitely about to do just that.

“Don’t do that. My cheeks look so fat when you do that. Hey, are you listening? Don’t make my face look so ugly!”

His attempts to make you smile simply causes the tears to fall from your eyes. You melt into his embrace, burying your face against his neck as you sob. He places a tentative palm on the back of your head.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, planting a kiss against your hair, “if it’s just me.”

“No, I feel the same way,” you admit, turning your head to kiss his cheek. “You say you’re hard to love but how can that be true when I feel what I feel so easily? I will wait for you to close your shop and walk you home every day if you let me. I will be yours, if you let me.”

He turns your head so that he can bring his lips to yours. They taste salty again for entirely different reasons. Can you feel the way he’s trembling right now? All the relief in the world can’t assuage the ache of carrying such a burden in his chest for so long. The adrenaline is coursing through him like a wildfire, spreading until his lungs are burning with a heat he can’t quell.

“Mine, then,” he whispers, allowing the tears to stream down his cheeks freely. “Mine.”

He tangles his fingers in your hair, pulling you into a passionate kiss that threatens to steal every last bit of oxygen from your lungs. He growls into your mouth, claiming every inch inside with his tongue. He grinds his hips upwards and it’s then you remember that you’re naked and you have a dick that’s still half-hard and growing harder by the second.

You groan loudly. “Fuuuuuck. I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

He pulls back to bite his lip, the intrigue in his features apparent. “You want to try it?”

“I mean… you sucked your own dick for me. You don’t owe me anything—”

“I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. I want to try it,” he says, wriggling his hips beneath you. “Fuck. Me.”

“This is still so weird,” you say with a giggle, your eyes rolling back into your skull when the tip of your cock glides against his clit. “Ah…”

The pair of you pause and slowly repeat the motion. You can feel how wet he is and instead of being embarrassed like you would be in his place, you find it incredibly hot.

“Do it again,” he pleads, spreading his legs further apart to allow you better access.

You look down, pressing your thumb into the base of your cock and carefully glide the tip across the folds between his legs. He hisses an expletive between his teeth when you drag it past his clit and begin rocking your hips back and forth.

“Yeah, just like that,” he whispers through frantic panting and sloppy kisses.

You feel a cramp in your thigh and pull back to nurse the ache. He whines when you slink away from his body, missing the friction on his clit already, although he’s satisfied enough when you circle one of his breasts with your tongue and take a nipple into your mouth. You press light circles into his clit with the pad of your middle finger until you can feel his legs flexing around your body like you’re not giving him enough. His fingers dive beneath yours to tease the swollen bud.

“Let me feel,” he pants. “Let me learn where to touch.”

You carefully guide his movements for a minute while treating his other nipple to the pleasures of your tongue. He seems to get the hang of stimulating himself pretty quickly so you turn your attention towards his thighs. You sink between them and begin kissing the sensitive skin beside his folds. His thighs twitch when you trace circles around his entrance with your tongue. You briefly pause to inspect your fingernails, making sure none of them are a jagged mess from the way he’s bitten them. When you’re satisfied with your inspection you peek up at him.

“You want to try my fingers first?” you ask, feeling envious that you can’t be riding three of them to the knuckle right now. “I can show you how my mouth feels too, though I doubt I’m an expert on that.”

“I don’t care about that.” He lifts his hand so he can peer down at you from between his tits. “I’ll take your mouth anywhere you want to give it.”

He watches as you flick your tongue across the sensitive, slick bundle of nerves. He bucks his hips as you clamp down and roll your tongue back and forth over it. His pretty painted nails look so good digging into your ebony hair. It’s not long until you dip a finger inside his cunt, teasing until you’re bobbing it in and out at a decent pace.

“Oh…” he says, as if he’s surprised that the experience is so pleasurable. “Shit, that’s good. Fuck. I’m gonna....”

You push another finger into him, curling the longest digit as far as you can to try and reach the g-spot you know is hiding nearby. When you finally get it he grips your shoulders and arches his pelvis off the ground like he’s committing to a new yoga routine. You recognize the stiffness in his limbs, the involuntary tremble of his thighs beside your head, the heaving of his chest and the frantic nonsense spilling out from his lips. You focus your energy on his clit, replacing your mouth with your hand since you have more confidence bringing about his climax this way.

His hips stutter and you know he’s riding the line. It’s a little bit more difficult to find that perfect rhythm when your hand isn’t in it’s normal position. The way he sucks in a breath to release his needy whines almost makes you feel guilty. It’s not like you’re trying to edge him but you’re not able to keep that pressure as consistent as you’d like.

“I’m so close,” he pants. “But I keep losing it. I’m sorry.”

You’ve been there plenty of times but you’re desperate to make him cum.

“It’s okay. Don’t be sorry. Rub it, baby. You know what feels good,” you whisper, shifting your attention to fingering his cunt. You don’t call attention to the pet name, but it feels so natural falling from your lips in this moment. You hope he doesn’t mind.

In an instant his fingers replace yours on his clit and he’s building back up. His thighs quake and his back arches off the mattress one more time and you know it’s coming. He’s about to reach his peak.

He takes a sharp inhale and where you expect the loud wails you would normally make while riding out your high, there’s quiet shuddering and softy breathy moans that linger in the air around you. He grabs your wrist with an ironclad grip as soon as he rides the last wave and his sweaty thighs fall limp around your face. You’re grinning like an idiot as he pulls you by the hair towards his lips, desperate to feel you, to taste you. His tongue is exploring every bit it can, trying to steal the essence from your mouth.

“Mmm. I want to taste that sweet pussy every day.“

“Do you… Still want me to fuck you?” You’re really trying not to sound hopeful but you can’t stop thinking about it.

He smirks and wipes the sweat from his brow. “Let me feel how well my cock fills you.”

“Do I need a condom?” you ask. “Are you clean?”

He laughs like it’s an absurd question. “That’s up to you. I haven’t had sex in four years. I’m clean. If you’re not worried, I’m not worried.”

“Four years is a long time,” you mumble, suddenly feeling pressure perform well. “I have an IUD so if you’re okay with it…”

“I wanna know how it feels.”

As soon as you line yourself up with his entrance you’re sweating like you’ve never sweated in your entire life. You don’t know what you’re doing, but you’re hoping it doesn’t suck. It doesn’t take a genius to sense your nerves. He reaches out to cup your stubbly jaw.

“We don’t have to.”

“I want to. Just… tell me if I’m hurting you,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his.

You let the tip dip inside and descend into his cunt slowly, knowing the thickest part of your dick follows the tip immediately. The stretch must be delicious. You’re distracted by how tightly his walls are clamping down on you. It’s tempting to bury yourself in his warmth as quickly as possible but you show restraint. His breath hitches as he adjusts to your girth and you freeze. Has your body ever taken someone as thick as him? You can’t recall. Probably not.

“Keep going,” he coaches, grabbing at your ass to press you further inside until you’ve bottomed out.

Your head hangs down as you try not to let the sensation overwhelm you. His lips find yours, helping you climb back down from the high. You slowly move your hips back, already missing the tight warmth hugging you. It takes a few more slow thrusts until you’re pumping into him at a relatively steady pace.

“Sorry if my rhythm isn’t good. I’ve never done this,” you manage to say between heavy breaths.

“You’re doing fine. This feels amazing. What are you talking about?”

He could be lying to make you feel better but it’s working. He puts his hands by his head to indicate he wants you to hold them. You immediately twine your fingers in his and press the back of his hands into the mattress.

“Yeah? It feels so fucking good, Yoongi.”

“It does... But I know you can fuck me harder than that, Y/N.”

You can already feel the tightness you’re holding back, a pleasurable pressure building in your pelvis that warns you of the imminent orgasm you can only stave off for so long. You can’t help but slam your hips in harder and faster at his request. The sound of balls slapping against skin fills the room and he moves his hips to meet yours. His breathing grows labored but you know he’s not about to cum again. You’ve never gotten off from penetration alone and there’s no way your sloppy performance will cause that miracle to happen now.

“There you go… Fuck. That’s it.”

“I’m gonna pull out,” you warn, feeling like you’re testing your own limits with every thrust.

“Already?” he teases, digging his pretty fingernails into your back.

“It feels… too fucking good, Yoon…” You wish you had more stamina. “Gonna cum on those pretty tits.”

“Yoon?” He chuckles, now distracted by the way his tits are bouncing with each slap of your hips.

“Just wait until I’m back in that body riding your cock. See how long you last then.”

“Is that a promise?” he questions, cupping your jaw to kiss you.

“...Yeah...”

He can feel the difference in your pace, in the shivers of your body. You’re about to cum. He turns your face towards the mirror so you can see how fucked out your reflection looks. It’s intoxicating seeing Yoongi’s body so needy and desperate.

“Look at you. You’re not gonna make it to these tits.”

“Fuck…” you bite your lip and try to slow your pace but it’s too late. The tension and pressure bursts from the head of your cock like a confetti popper on New Years. With a few, strong pumps you spill your seed into his warm cunt. “Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cummmph--”

Yoongi brings your lips back to meet his to muffle the unexpected sounds of your orgasm.

“Oh my goooood. You’re so loud,” he teases when you finally come down, but you’re too spent to refute him.

There’s another twitch in your dick and you lay there with your mouth open, trying to regain sense of your faculties. He intentionally clenches around your softening length and every muscle in your abdomen flexes.

“Too much!” you shriek, pulling out and rolling off of him in one swift motion.

You let your sweaty back hit the soft duvet, trying to recover from the sensation. He laughs, angling his legs towards the mirror. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when he spreads his legs and swipes at the cum dripping from his cunt, pushing it back inside with his fingers and releasing a soft sigh. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen yourself do, and you’re not even doing it.

When he’s satisfied that he’s pushed it all in, he lays down next to you. The two of you stare at the ceiling in silence for at least a minute. Is it awkward or was it just that good? You can’t tell the difference right now and it’s making you anxious. He covers your hand with his and looks over at you with a warm smile.

The anxiety-driven words come out before you can stop them. “You should pee. You don’t want a UTI and neither do I.”

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

About an hour has passed in awkward silence as the two of you conduct research on what the fuck happened to you. You haven’t talked about what you both did in this bed, but the smell of sex still hangs in the air. As soon as you both put your clothes back on it was like a switch of modesty came back into play, and you feel too shy to point it out. You don’t know what to say, so you’ve just been clicking on every link you possibly can to fill the silence as he scrolls through articles on his phone nearby. It’s uncomfortable and you hate it.

“I think I have something, maybe,” you say, scrolling through the 90s looking website you’ve been exploring for the last few minutes.

Yoongi scoots closer to you and furrows his brow as he squints to read the sloppy banner at the top of the page. “The Unsolved?”

“I know what you’re thinking. Conspiracy theorists are insane, I know, but—”

You reach for the trackpad at the same time and your fingers brush, causing you to freeze mid-sentence. You stare at the keyboard for a second and chew on your lip, allowing your eyes to dart towards your periphery without moving your head. When he doesn’t say anything you clear your throat and scroll with the trackpad.

“But, look.” You point to the two embedded images triumphantly.

“Necklaces.” He cocks his head to the side and reads the text underneath aloud. “‘An Amulet of Discord is used by an Agent of Chaos to spread mischief and debauchery in the universe. It can be split into two halves to displace unsuspecting victims from their bodies. A glamour will protect the Amulet once the ritual is complete, making it impossible to see or touch. In order to reunite the victim with their body, the Agent responsible must be compelled to remove the glamour and mend the fragmented pieces into one.’”

“Last night I had one of those chincy friendship necklaces on and I definitely did not put it on. It looked a lot like the ones that weird guy tried to give us at your shop yesterday. I tried to get it off but it wouldn’t budge. Then it disappeared.”

“This sounds insane,” he muses, mulling over the information.

“Did it happen to you too?”

“I thought I saw one briefly, but… It was gone when I looked again. I thought I must be seeing things.”

“It’s gotta be it!”

Yoongi furrows his brows as you scroll back up to the navigation, not sure if he fully believes in this explanation. “What’s an Agent of Chaos anyway?”

“I guess they like… cause mayhem for fun? I don’t know, the description said something about pleasing a patron that they get their powers from.”

“Like a god?”

The thought makes him uneasy. If a god of chaos exists then surely there are more out there. If gods exist but they do nothing to balance out the cosmic injustices of the universe, are they really gods or more like demons? He feels like he’s about to have a full meltdown over something he can’t understand or control.

“Maybe. It doesn’t describe them at all. But…” You give him a reassuring smirk. “It does give instructions on how to trap an Agent. We just need a little more space and some chalk. We’ll draw him out, trap him, then make him undo his magic. What do we have to lose?”

His heart feels lighter when you look at him so softly. “Makes it sound simple when you say it like that. Also, slightly insane.”

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

The website was very lax on defining the ‘discordant energy’ needed to summon the agent, so the pair of you have been improvising. Yoongi suggested moving into the store for the space you needed, but you have a feeling he’s just anxious about it being closed for the day. It’s fine. You don’t want to constantly be thinking about the sex neither of you are acknowledging right now. Yoongi is brushing his teeth after drinking a bottle of orange juice.

You grimace at him. “You really think that’s gonna do it?”

He stops mid-brush, his mouth full of foam and garbling his words. “It’s better than doing nothing. How are you helping?”

You give the sunglasses rack a slow spin. “I drew the sigil on the floor. If we’re gonna trap him we need to be ready. Were you able to find anything else?”

He clicks on your laptop a few times before hurrying into the back room. He reappears a moment later, wiping at his mouth. “That was gross.”

You watch him concentrate on the screen, trying to forget the way it felt to kiss him everywhere he would let you. It’s hard to focus on the task at hand when there’s this feeling lingering in your uneasy stomach. Are you doomed to never speak of the things that made your heart flutter?

“ A thousand possibilities are always running through my head when it comes to you and I freeze when I think about acting on any of them. That’s what I don’t say .”

You tell yourself you imagined those words, that you wished them into existence. You turn the rack of cheap sunglasses again. Even if you knew what you were looking for, you wouldn’t find it with the way your mind is wandering. You look back at Yoongi, debating whether or not you should speak up about the uncertainty in your gut.

“Keepsake!” he says excitedly, running out from behind the counter. “It says they often leave something behind so they can return to observe their work.”

His sudden movement makes you jump and loudly smack your hand against the stand in a panicked attempt to look inconspicuous. He pauses to look at you and raises an eyebrow but you’re already laser-focused on the rack again. Desperate to hide your growing embarrassment you pluck a pair of sunglasses that is strikingly similar to the ones you’d seen the man wearing that day.

As soon as you put them on you inhale sharply. “What the fuck?”

“Hmm?” Yoongi wonders. “What is it?”

“There’s something written… on the fridge.”

“What? Where?”

You lift the glasses up to be sure you can’t see the letters scrawled on the glass without them. The message disappears. Once you place them back on the bridge of your nose they practically glow, beckoning you towards them. You push past him on your way to the drinks section. “Here. It says… Now you have… specs appeal?”

Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s it’? It was a solid pun.”

The pair of you look towards the sound of the stranger’s voice. Instead of forming words you exclaim a sound of surprise. He looks confused.

“You’re going to need to speak clearly. I’m not sure I understand your language.”

“You! You did this!” you shriek, taking a step forward.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” the man says with a puff of his cheeks. He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “It’s not nice to accuse people of things. Have I done anything? Are you sure you’re not dreaming?”

A haze of golden dust spreads across the room like twinkling stars. As you blink and rub at your eyes you yawn and feel a sudden urge to lay down.

“Mmm. I am sleepy…” you admit as you sink to your knees.

Yoongi looks down at you like you’ve grown two heads. “Y/N, what are you doing?”

You laugh and lazily grapple with his leg. “Come lay down. Please? It’s made out of feathers.”

Yoongi watches you close your eyes. Suddenly your body falls limp at his feet. He crouches down to cradle your face in his hands, your name an urgent plea on his lips. “Y/N. Y/N wake up.” He pinches your cheek but you don’t respond.

“She wants this to be a dream. Don’t you?” The man takes a few casual steps forward.

“No, I don’t,” Yoongi growls. The threat sounds odd coming from this body, tone too meek to pass for intimidating. He glares at the man after reluctantly tearing his eyes from your sleeping form. It may be his body on the floor there, but you’re trapped inside it. “Wake her up.”

“She’s tired!”

Yoongi rises to his feet and shields your unconscious form as the man creeps closer. “Don’t take another step. You’re going to regret it.”

“Threatening me? Hah… You’re pretty bold, considering you’re not really in a bargaining position. Spunky! I’ll give you that. Say, I’m curious. What do you think I am anyway? I’ve got a bet going and I know I’m gonna win because I’m right, but I need proof. So if you wouldn’t mind speaking into this...”

Out of his pocket comes a microphone. He holds it out like he’s giving the most intense interview of his life as he awaits Yoongi’s response.

“You’re… Some kind of trickster.”

The man sucks his teeth and shoves the microphone back in his pocket. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind. So much for my bet… Come on. Don’t you think I look more like a god?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you work for one,” Yoongi muses, “but you sure aren’t one.”

“Wooooow….” The man sighs in disbelief. “The disrespect! At least you’re honest. I can appreciate that. I— ”

The stranger’s body seizes up as he takes another step forward. ”Ow!” His body convulses for a second before he regains his faculties. He looks down to find the sigil scrawled in chalk around his feet. Try as he might to scrape the markings off with his heel, his shoes are unable to scuff the powder. He furrows his brows and throws his hands in the air.

“Really? Are you kidding me? An integrity prison? Where did you learn this?”

Holy fucking shit. It worked, Yoongi thinks. He’s never been more relieved in his life.

“Wake her up,” he repeats calmly.

“I was gonna,” the man pouts, slumping into a cross-legged sit. “But now I really don’t want to. Would it kill you to have manners? Look at this. You’ve put me in a difficult little pickle here.” He reaches behind his back and pulls out a jar full of dill pickles. He fishes one out and takes a loud, crunchy bite. “I was just having a little fun and now I’m stuck here, doomed to this ugly little space.”

Yoongi crosses his arms, quickly losing patience. “Stop being dramatic.”

The man glowers at him and crunches on the last bit of the pickle with slow, loud chewing.

Yoongi lets out an exasperated sigh. “Please, stop being dramatic.”

With a surprised nod, the man gulps down the pickle and hops to his feet. “Well, you said please, at least. Was that really such a big... dill?”

Right as Yoongi groans, the man snaps his fingers and flexes his pointers into finger-guns. You immediately yawn and sit up.

“What happened?” you mumble.

Yoongi offers you a hand and you take it, rising to unsteady feet. He wraps a hand around your waist to support your weight. “You took a nap but you didn’t miss much. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you murmur, the haze lifting from your sleepy eyelids. You gasp as your eyes focus on the man trapped between the center aisles. “Huh! We got him!”

“Yeah, yeah. Time to celebrate. You trapped me. Good job.” The sarcasm in his tone is evident, accompanied by a roll of his eyes. Confetti falls from above your heads, showering the pair of you in glitter and shiny streamers with the flick of his wrist. “Now let me out.”

You’re blown away by the bizarre moment, springing forward and out of Yoongi’s grasp. “Magic? Then, are you really… a god?”

The man pats his pockets frantically. “Finally! Someone with a sense for my greatness! Ugh! I should have been recording. Damn! Where’s my microphone?”

“Gods don’t get trapped with chalk,” Yoongi says, folding his arms and tapping his toe impatiently. “This guy is an underling. Hey! Don’t get too close!”

Your mouth hangs agape in awe as you approach the man. Scrutiny must be new for him because he seems stunned. That wide-eyed expression is erased quickly enough when he strikes a heroic pose, planting his hands on his hips and puffing his chest out. His pecs and shoulders seem to inflate when he inhales, causing them to swell into well-defined muscles.

“Oh.” You blink a few times, entranced by the sudden transformation. You reach your hand out as if to touch the meaty bicep practically bulging from his sleeve. “Who… What... are you, really?”

“Y/N!” Yoongi’s hands enclose around your waist, pulling you back into him just as your hand is about to break the barrier.

The man’s muscles deflate with his held breath as he bursts into a fit of squeaky laughter. “Oh! I almost had you!” He wheezes a squeaky sound through his inhale that you can only guess is laughter. He clears his throat. “My name is Jin. Matchmaker…” He holds up two matches in his hands and sets them alight with a flick of his wrist.

“Lover...” He winks and the matches disappear. In their stead are two roses. He tosses them at the two of you but when you go to catch yours it disintegrates.

Yoongi catches the disappointment on your face and thrusts the flower towards you, hoping it will restore the shine to your eyes. You give him a big, cheesy smile as you dust glitter from his hair.

“Ah… And! Balancing agent…” He stands on one foot as a seesaw appears to lift him into the air. He jumps down triumphantly with a bow. “At your service.”

You clap enthusiastically until you look over at Yoongi, who looks less than amused. You then nudge him with your elbow until he gives a solitary clap.

“What’s a balancing agent?” Yoongi asks dryly.

“We restore balance to the world. Things that are too uniform need a little chaos. Things that are too chaotic need to be put back into line. In our down time we like to have fun in our own ways. Me? I like to set people up.”

“So you’re not an Agent of Chaos?” you ask, disappointed that the conspiracy theorist page that led you to this point isn’t exactly the fountain of knowledge you had hoped for. There’s so much you don’t know.

Jin looks at you, clearly confused. “I mean some people call me Cupid, but I guess you can call me that. Has a nice ring to it. My powers are more inclined for chaos.”

“Cupid?”

“What? I’m a romantic. I can see the strings of fate! Also I may have a penchant for mischief, but that’s neither here—” He points at his feet. “Nor there!” He points at the shelf beside you which causes a bag of chips to burst, sending its contents everywhere.

“Hey!” Yoongi yells. “Are you going to pay for those?”

“Yoongi…”

“What?”

You can tell he’s irritated but clearly this guy can do a lot more than pop a bag of chips from across the room. You don’t want to fall on the bad side of his magic but you don’t exactly trust Yoongi’s mouth to keep you in Jin’s good graces.

“Stop being rude,” you whisper through clenched teeth.

He scoffs and answers you in a hushed tone. “How am I rude? He’s making a mess!”

“Then we’ll ask him to unmake it.” Your irritation heightens the volume of your voice to the point where it’s barely a whisper anymore.

“He’s playing with us. I’m through asking.”

“Yoongi.”

“Y/N.”

Jin laughs. “See, this is what I mean. Fate is practically screaming for me to help you. Chaos is just an added bonus for this boring town.”

You both look at him and ask in unison, “What?”

He points to the both of you. “Look.”

As you turn back to face Yoongi you’re shocked to see a pale blue orb glowing above his head. “Huh? What’s that?” You reach out to touch it but your hand passes through it without any change.

“You have one too,” he mumbles, squinting at the way a thin line seems to stem from it. Then he sees another. And another. It looks like a shiny, glittering web that splinters into a thousand different directions. His brows furrow as he inspects the tiny threads. “Do you see them?”

Your gaze follows his pointer and suddenly you can see the branching strands too, not just yours, but his as well. It’s beautiful. It’s overwhelming. It’s terrifying. Seeing the trepidation written on your face he silently beckons your attention to his finger, which is pointing to a thread that is golden instead of a pale blue hue. It’s the only one of its kind in the intricate glittering lattice between the two of you. You follow his pointer as it traces the path that stems from your orb until it gets closer to his and then you take over, finishing the path with your finger to the point where his orb engulfs the line.

“What is it?” you wonder aloud.

“A string of fate,” Jin answers with a wistful sigh. “It’s always exciting to see one, isn’t it? It means you’re soulmates.”

“Hah. Bullshit,” Yoongi responds, waving the air with his hands as if to disrupt the strings. They remain intact. “You just like causing mischief.”

Jin puffs his cheeks and scowls. “I can lie about a lot of things, but the strings aren’t one of them,” he huffs. “Why would I need to do that? What’s more unpredictable than true love slapping you in the face?”

He makes a motion with his fingers and sweeps them towards Yoongi.The compulsion rises and you’re powerless to stop it. Your hand moves of its own accord and lightly slaps Yoongi across the face. He looks betrayed as he rubs his cheek.

“I’m sorry! It wasn’t me!”

The tingle in your arm causes it to move back towards him in a gentle swoop. Your wrist is limp as it smacks into his chin and rubs back and forth as if to comfort him. Jin bursts into a fit of laughter as he breaks the compulsion.

Yoongi lets out an exasperated sigh, stomping up towards the circle around the stranger. “Just change us back and you can go on causing problems elsewhere.”

“I can’t,” Jin answers simply, crossing his arms. “The charm will break only under specific conditions.”

“And those are?”

Jin shrugs with his bottom lip protruding as he frowns. “It’s different for everyone.”

“Of course it is.” Yoongi sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, pacing back towards you.

“There are some things you can try. Staples of the trade.” Jin notes some dirt beneath his fingernails and begins cleaning them. “Number one. Have you tried talking about your feelings?”

Yoongi’s gaze settles on yours and it’s like you can feel your heart stop. Say something. You open your mouth to speak but the words won’t come so you snap your jaw shut and stare at the glitter on the floor.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Yoongi says as he folds his arms across his chest, trying to not get distracted by the breasts he inadvertently touches. He decides to drop his hands to his hips instead.

Jin rolls his eyes. “Okaaaay... Number two is filling the chaos meter. Go crazy. Do the unexpected.”

“I don’t know what we’d do,” Yoongi admits, pacing around the circle.

“What if we kissed?” The voice is soft and sweet.

He turns to face you, a combination platter of surprise and confusion. “But we did.”

“Reeeeally?”

Jin’s laughter makes him feel like a fool. He was convinced you said it, despite knowing your voice is not your own right now. How stupid could he be, walking right into that? He squeezes his eyes shut a moment and then focuses his attention on the captive.

While Yoongi is distracted you’re working a pack of mentos out of their packaging. You kneel down and twist the cap off one of the liters of cola placed on the endcap you. The hiss of the carbonation makes Yoongi shift attention.

Your name on his lips is half a warning, half a question loaded with uncertainty. You open another bottle beside it before he can get close enough and drop mentos into each. The liquid erupts into two fizzy fountains that reach the ceiling and spill back down to the floor. Yoongi takes off his hat and grips his hair like he wants to tear it out.

“What are you doing?”

“Filling the meter?” you answer meekly with a shug, stepping back from the puddle on the floor.

Jin roars with laughter. “Oh man. There is no meter, but that was delightful.”

Yoongi grumbles and goes back to the counter, grabbing the laptop and sinking down behind it to hide from the pandemonium of this situation.

“You’re the worst,” you mutter as you pass Jin. You quickly sit next to Yoongi on the floor.

“It was a joke!” Jin calls. “Come on, don’t leave me alone here.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize as his fingers rapidly tap the keys. “I’m trying to help.”

“I know.”

“What are you looking for?” you whisper.

Yoongi listens for a minute to the grumbling of the man trapped in the circle nearby. “How to trick a trickster. I have a feeling we need him to undo it but he won’t come out and say it.”

You sigh and press your chin against his shoulder. “I’m tired.”

He looks over and tips his head down to nuzzle his cheek against you. “I know.”

“Huh?” Your vision diverts to a shiny blue can beside him. “Are you serious?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah.” He picks it up and quickly downs the last sip, the Hot6 Logo shining back at you in mockery. “I found it earlier and needed a pick-me-up.”

“Did you find more?”

“Nope. Just the one.”

“But…” you pout. “I wanted it.”

He holds the empty can out to you. “It’s grown on me.”

“I’m about to die without the sweet taste,” you whine, shaking the can to make sure there’s nothing left.

“You’re so obnoxious.”

He rolls his eyes and cups your jaw, leaning in to press his lips against yours. You don’t protest when he dips his tongue past your lips to rub against yours. You can taste remnants of the drink on his tongue. If Hot6 wasn’t your favorite drink before this, it is now.

“Better?”

“Maybe. Still not sweet enough.” You giggle.

He takes the opportunity to kiss you again, crushing your mouth against his in a deeper kiss. You’re practically melting into him as his tongue glides against yours, moving in a rhythm that you now crave. It’s so easy to forget everything else, where you are, what’s happened to you. He moves to straddle your lap, grinding down intentionally as he grips the back of your neck. He knows you’re half-hard already and fuck if he doesn’t just want to have you again. You’re the only thing that feels real right now.

He pulls down the zipper of the hoodie you’ve given him to allow access to his neck. It’s not until he allows you to latch onto the sensitive flesh there, with his hands buried in your hair, that he notices the security mirror. You’re so hot. He wants to be in you so badly but he’ll settle for you being in him right now.

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Suddenly he notices the other person in the mirror. Jin is sitting cross-legged on the floor in his invisible prison, resting his chin on a hand as he stares back through the reflection with eyebrows raised. Yoongi quickly clears his throat and climbs off of you. You blink in confusion at the disruption until he points at the mirror and then you cast your gaze at the floor.

“We should take care of this.” He runs his fingers through his hair to compose himself before placing the cap back on his head and focusing his attention back on the computer.

“Wow, you almost went there with me watching. That would have done it for sure,” Jin says, breaking into a grin.

“Come on!” you shriek, popping up from behind the counter. “Please, just change us back.”

“I told you. I can’t,” he repeats firmly. “I actually don’t lie as often as you seem to think I do. Maybe you should try having sex. They say the soul leaves your body for an instant when you reach the finish line, you know. It can’t hurt. Ohhhh wait a minute...”

He jumps to his feet after watching the guilt flash across your face. Your eyes seem to dart around him, but never land close enough to his. Blood rushes through your ears, drowning out all the sounds that aren’t your heartbeat.

He smiles wickedly. “Oh my god, you already did. I mean, I get it. Who wouldn’t be curious? It’s only human to wonder. Oh, to be human… Seriously, have you tried talking about your feelings?”

You turn towards Yoongi and crouch back on the floor, disappearing from Jin’s view. He steps on his tiptoes to try and see around the counter before settling back on the security mirror. You can’t help but focus on his nosiness.

“Yoongi. I... Look. Can we go in the back? I need to talk to you. Privately.”

Jin clicks his tongue and sighs as the pair of you cross the store and slip into the door that reads ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY.’ You breathe a sigh of relief when Yoongi locks the heavy door behind you. He bites at his nails--your nails as he waits for you to say whatever you need to. You take his hands into yours.

“Things are weird right now and not just because of this,” you hold up his hands in yours. “Are you regretting everything now?”

He smirks and gives you a small laugh. He slinks away to rub the back of his neck. “I don’t regret anything. I mean what I said. I care about you. I just… I get embarrassed, I guess.”

He’s embarrassed? You didn’t think he was capable with how blunt he normally is. “Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m insecure. Sexy, right?”

Time seems to slow as he draws near. There’s a lighthearted laugh on his lips before they meet yours. It feels like the first time all over again. Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you throw your arms around his neck, desperate to get closer even though you’re already pressed up against each other. You lean into him as you gasp in his hot breaths between kisses. To counteract the weight you’ve pressed against him, he pushes you backwards. Your arms fly back to catch yourself as you stumble but you knock into a freestanding shelving unit. Cans of soup clatter to the floor and roll off in various directions as Yoongi steadies the rack to keep it from falling.

He sighs, dropping his forehead to your shoulder in defeat. “We should focus.”

You whimper and will yourself to move the pair of you away from the wire rack. You run your fingers through your hair and attempt to compose yourself. Everything feels like a dream. It’s hard to think with him consuming the majority of your thoughts. You clear your throat, hoping your mind will also clear with the action.

“Hey,” he says, fingers on the latch. He pauses to lock eyes with you. “It might have seemed like the heat of the moment, but I really mean what I said. So tell me you’ll stick around after this is done?”

You run up and lace your fingers in his free hand before giving it a firm squeeze. “Promise.”

As he opens the door Jin jumps like you’ve startled him with your presence. “Whoa, I thought maybe you’d murdered one another. I heard a loud bang.” His gaze drops to your entwined hands. “What? Did you finally embrace destiny?”

“Destiny. No destiny. It doesn’t matter,” Yoongi says calmly as he squeezes your hand. “This could all be a dream. But we’re here now. We care about each other in this moment. That’s real. That matters.”

Jin does a slow clap while grinning from ear-to-ear. “Wow! It usually takes people a few days, maybe a week!” He looks at his wrist as though he’s wearing an invisible watch. “It’s been, what, a day? You did good.”

“Does that mean you’re going to help us now?” You perk up immediately.

“I mean I think you’ve helped yourselves. You look happy. You’re comfortable, right? Can’t you just let me go and keep existing like this?”

When he’s met with silence he sighs. “Ahh, well there is one more thing you can do, I guess. Have you tried checking your pockets?”

His suggestion is met with eyerolls from the both of you. While nonsensical, the unexpected has become a staple of your current state of existence and you feel you owe it to yourself to at least entertain the possibility. Your fingers slip into your pocket and explore the ridges of the hard object nestled against the fabric. Excitement courses through you as you pull your half of the locket from the confines of your sweatpants. Dumbfounded, Yoongi sticks a finger into his tight jeans and fishes the other half of the necklace out of his pocket.

“Hah, I can’t believe you didn’t even look,” Jin says with a laugh. “Now put them on, place the pieces together and say ‘Me Hoy Nimoy.’”

You exchange a skeptical look with Yoongi but you both comply and blurt the phrase soon after linking the pieces of the necklace together. You hold your breath, waiting for something spectacular to happen but disappointment soon floods your lungs. Just as you’re about to speak up, Jin clicks his tongue.

“Ah, close your eyes. It won’t work if you’re watching.”

Yoongi grumbles. “You’re fucking with us.”

“Hey, some magic is shy. Follow the rules. Do you think I’m just making this all up?” he pouts.

Your answer comes in unison with Yoongi’s: “Yes.”

Jin looks hurt as he clutches a hand over his heart and staggers backwards. “Woooooow. Well, just do one more thing then. ”

A devilish grin soon replaces the expression and his squeaky laughter fills up the store. He points at the pair of you with both fingers and wags his fingers in circles. You feel compelled to turn in place. Yoongi matches the uneasiness in your gut with the panic in his eyes. You both spin in circles away from one another. Once. Twice. Three times. Just as you’re about to complain about the nausea churning fresh waves in your belly, Jin waves his hands inwards.

You’re lifted into the air. The toes of your sneakers leave behind squeaky skidmarks of rubber on the tile as the pair of you are dragged forward. Jin cocks his head to one side and examines you with an expression of stone. For a split second you’re terrified but then he breaks into a grin and snaps his fingers. His thumbs and index fingers form the shape of a heart as he holds them out and you drop to the floor.

Yoongi reaches out for your shoulder. There’s a soft tremble to his fingers as he pulls you close to him. When you look upon his visage you can already see his jaw transforming, a thin stubble growing in along its perimeter. Every time you close your eyes to blink more of his face has morphed back into his own. You look down at your own fingers and watch as the nails narrow and elongate. A glossy pink hue returns to them but the polish looks slightly less finished with the way Yoongi has gnawed on the edges all day.

Suddenly Yoongi is frantically scrambling to his feet, kicking off his shoes and working the zipper down on his jeans. Everything is quickly growing far too tight. The hoodie you’d given him just barely covers his crotch as he stands up straight. He looks over at you with a relieved sigh and cups your jaw.

“You good?” he asks, rubbing the pad of his thumb across your chin. It takes all of your self-control to keep from licking it as it grazes your lip.

You nod, eyes falling to the necklace dangling over his sweatshirt. As soon as you reach out to yank it off, the trinket disappears in a puff of purple smoke with a clap of Jin’s hands. He holds them in place like a silent prayer just below his chin, a strained smile staining his face just above his fingers.

“So, here’s the thing. I’m gonna need you to hold up your end of the deal.”

“Fix my store first. Clean up this mess you’ve caused,” Yoongi says while taking a step in front of you.

Jin’s bottom lip protrudes into a pout as he eyes the puddle of cola on the floor. “I didn’t do that,” he complains under his breath.

It’s incredible how close he came to freedom, incredible and frustrating. His magic may not be able to touch or alter the circle, but you almost freed him with your ignorance. If the liquid had run close enough to seep into the chalk, he would be somewhere far more sunny and beachy right now. He’s earned a vacation for this milestone of success.

“Fiiiine,” he concedes.

With a snap of his fingers the store is spotless once more. While Yoongi inspects the area of the tile floor previously coated in cola and glitter, you glide your foot over the circle of chalk and break the seal that binds Jin to his current location.

“Finally…” he sighs, side-stepping out from the invisible barrier. “You’re welcome, by the way. Invite me to the wedding, okay? Don’t forget the little people who helped you on the way. As for me... I’ve got a date with the pearly beaches of Accord.”

He swirls his wrist in the air and the pair of ugly red mirrored sunglasses appear on his nose just in time for him to adjust them. He lowers the specs to give you a wink before snapping his fingers. Before you can even call out for him to wait, he’s gone in a puff of purple smoke that quickly dissipates. You’re left in stunned silence to contemplate your existence.

What are you supposed to make of everything?

As you stand there on the cusp of a mental breakdown, soft, velvety petals brush against your cheek to steal your attention. The scent of the flower overtakes your senses as Yoongi uses it to tickle your nose. You find him smiling back at you, almost like he’s too shy to speak, but then he does.

“Weird day huh? Can I have my pants back?”

You hum thoughtfully, making sure the shutters of the shop are still shielding you both from the outside world. “Would you mind if I wanted to get back in them later?”

He snorts, holding back a laugh. “Been waiting to use that all day?”

“No, I just thought of it right now. Aren’t I impressive?” you say, wiggling your eyebrows at him. You shimmy out of the sweatpants and leave them pooled on the floor, doing your best to walk past him with grace and seduction.

“So impressive.”

He offers an amused laugh when you bend over to pick up the garments he was so quick to discard when his transformation reverted. You spare a glance behind you to see if he’s looking at the way you so blatantly flaunt your ass. He’s in the middle of dragging his bottom lip through his teeth when your eyes steal his attention.

“Something wrong?” A wicked grin belies your innocent tone.

He exhales a long breath and shakes his head, turning his attention to pulling his pants up. “Impressive isn’t the word. You’re obnoxious.”

“Isn’t that your way of saying you wanna make out?”

He’s quiet as he takes off the remainder of your clothes to reveal a muscular chest riddled with goosebumps. It’s hard to hide how your grin spreads wider as he approaches with them in hand. You’ve had dreams like this: he’s shirtless, asking you to take off your clothes so he can fuck you in his store. Right here with your tits against the cold glass of the fridge. It would be a dirty secret only the two of you would know and you’d think about it every time you’d come in for your energy drink.

You slowly lift the hoodie from your own body, trying to appear as alluring as possible. You make sure to arch your back as your breasts briefly catch in the fabric and then drop against your ribs, completely exposed to the chilly air. Much to your dismay he’s quick to spin away from you and mutters a “thanks” instead of naughtier offers.

He’s aware you might mistake it for rejection, but he’s hoping you don’t see the way his fingers tremble. It’s incredible how scared he feels being back in his own skin. The intimacy of your connection left a void behind that’s quickly filling with disquiet. He feels incomplete without a piece of you with him, lost in the vast emptiness of himself. How can he feel such need for you? His chest aches with the possibility that he won’t ever feel whole again. The bravery that possessed him while piloting your body has waned. Now that normalcy is somewhat restored, he has the chance to start processing the events of the day. A part of him begins to embrace the panic he’d previously pushed down and his confession replays in his mind as though he’s just spoken it.

It was a bold move, especially given the situation. It could have ended horribly. He puffs out his cheeks and holds his breath, trying to remind himself that it didn’t. It’s okay to let go of the anxiety over it, but he still feels so uncertain. Even turned away from you and fully clothed, he’s never felt more exposed and vulnerable. He tries to hide the burning of his ears by running his fingers through his hair and shielding them with his arms. He has to bring himself back or else you’ll be talking him down from a panic attack and he doesn’t want you to see him like that.

Stupid. Stop throwing yourself at him. You struggle to put on the tight clothing as quickly as possible. Tears threaten to fall as you awkwardly wiggle your jeans back and forth up your thighs and over the swell of your ass. You make sure to swipe at the corners of your eyes before clearing your throat to signify you’re fully changed. He spins to face you but everything he means to say gets lost on the way to his mouth. He freezes, overwhelmed by how beautiful you are even in this shitty lighting, and how thankful he is to be able to see you through his own eyes.

His heart pounds at the confines of his chest like it needs to burst from within. There’s a small burst of adrenaline that plumes from the explosion of butterflies in his stomach. It fills him with the courage he needs to close the distance between you with a kiss, the kind of kiss he’s been dreaming of giving you for months. Right here in this store.

He loves how eager you are to reciprocate when he tangles his fingers in your hair. He holds you there like you’re about to melt away in a puff of smoke. Your lips are so soft, so sweet, so warm pressing against his. His tongue rolls over yours, desperate to keep tasting and feeling more. You grasp behind his neck and dig your fingernails into his shoulder as he deepens the kiss. When you roll your hips towards him as a subtle test for determining his hardness, you can feel him smile against your lips.

“Not in the store.” He gives you one more chaste kiss and pulls back just enough to allow you both to breathe. He adjusts one of the boxes on the nearby shelves. “You already drive me crazy. If we do it here I’m going to be thinking about it every time I’m stocking shelves.”

“Yoongi…” you whine. “Please tell me you’re keeping it closed for the day.”

He sighs as he plucks his phone from the counter to check the time. “Might as well.”

“Can I walk you home?” You chew on your lip as you wait for his response. What you wouldn’t give to spend the night with him.

Unable to hide the smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, he nods his head towards the exit. “Why would we waste our time?”

Your heart sinks into your butt, thinking this must be it. He changed his mind after all. He hates you. There’s no doubt about it now. All you can manage is a squeaky, “Hmm?”

He rests his palm on the handle of the door and he presses his lips into a thin line, looking wide eyed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so adorably hopeful and embarrassed at the same time. “You live closer.”

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The comforter at your back is soft and cool to the touch as you scramble to settle yourself against the pillows. Yoongi wastes no time wiggling off his sweatpants and climbing over you. The sound of your panting mingles with his as he hovers above you with his lips parted, trying to catch his breath. If the hurried ascent up the stairs wasn’t enough to have him gasping for air, the makeout session just inside your front door definitely has him devoid of oxygen. This still feels like a dream, but it’s one he doesn’t ever want to wake up from.

"How do you want it?" he whispers. He glides a finger up your thigh and lightly traces circles around your labia.

Your mind travels back to your earlier experience of coming undone and suddenly your stomach is doing flips.

"Just like this," you answer. "I want to feel you just like this. Do you remember where to touch?"

He nods, skimming his parted lips over yours while he places his finger over the hood of your clit. "Like this, right?"

"More pressure," you plead, working your hips in circles to coach his movements.

He does as you instruct and clamps his mouth over yours in a futile attempt to find relief for the aching need to be inside of you. He grinds himself against your side, his cock rubbing against your soft, heated skin as he tries to remember the exact motions needed to elicit enough pleasure to make you cum. He doesn't have to wait long until frenzied, weak moans are vibrating against his mouth so he turns his attention to your neck. He wants to hear how fucked out you are. He wants to hear how badly you want to cum. He wants to feel you pulse around his fingers.

As he plunges a thick finger deep into your cunt, a pathetic, desperate sound escapes you. "Oh, fuck."

"Feel good?" he mumbles into the hollow space between your neck and shoulder.

"Please. Please. Please. Please," you whimper incoherently, bucking your hips to meet each thrust of his finger. You can feel his cock rutting against your side and all you can do is imagine that he's pumping it into you instead of his fingers. "Oh fuck, Yoongi."

His lips twitch into a smile as he feels you tighten around his finger. He kisses your neck and sinks a second finger carefully inside you. You allow your head to fall against the pillow and bite your lip to try to contain the drawn out needy groan already helplessly spilling out of you. So close. Your back arches off the mattress and he wishes he wasn't so concentrated on the motions of his hands right now because he would absolutely love to be tonguing your perfect tits.

He pants against your skin and looks at them longingly. Maybe he can manage it? He's determined to use what he's learned about your body to help you cum, but not yet. You can't help but whine at the loss as he repositions himself, which breaks the sightline you had on your orgasm.

"Yoooongi... I was close..." You whimper when he abandons your cunt entirely to press your tits together. His mouth is hot as it clamps down on your nipple, giving the peak a hard suck before dragging it through his teeth.

"I know. Wanna make you cum with my tongue," he murmurs into the supple flesh.

He swipes his fingers along your cunt and swirls the wetness over your clit before bringing it to his mouth. You can already see how they glisten in the low light of your bedroom. The low moan that rumbles its way from his throat has you rocking your hips up against his pelvis as he settles between your legs. Your silent grinding isn't enough of a confirmation. He wants to hear you say it.

"Can I go down on you?" He blurts the shameless question while alternating between kissing both of your breasts and only pauses to meet your eyes.

You want to feel him everywhere but mostly you want his mouth on yours while he’s balls deep inside you. You don’t even care if you cum because being with him like this feels good. Being with him fills your heart with giddy hope and your stomach with butterflies. Being with him is enough. You want to tell him that but instead you nod and whimper out a pathetic “please.”

He wastes no time dipping his head down between your thighs to press the flat of his tongue against your clit. A low growl escapes with his exhale before he puckers his lips to kiss the soft skin and breathe in the heavy scent of your arousal. You’d be embarrassed if his tongue didn’t feel so magical. It glides against you so effortlessly, bringing pleasure with every quick flick against you.

Your hands dive into his hair and you start rolling your hips to grind his face harder against you. He doesn't seem to mind though. In fact he seems to embrace the motion, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you in as closely as possible. If you weren't so preoccupied with the orgasm building just below the surface of the place where his tongue keeps hitting then you might worry that he's suffocating himself. Right now all you can focus on is the pleasure threatening to break you open and leave you spilling a million curses into the air around you.

"Yoongi. Fuck. I'm close," you warn, as if the frantic way you've twirled his hair around each of your fingers isn't enough to tip him off. Do you really think he can't feel the shaking of your thighs in this moment?

He hums a sound like he doesn't hear you, but he doesn't let up at all. He keeps his pace steady for you as you approach your end once again. Your nails scratch against his scalp but he doesn't mind. He actually really likes the way you're losing your mind over the simple things he's doing with his tongue right now. He can't even begin to imagine the pretty sounds that might spew from your lips with practiced effort but he knows he can't wait to hear them.

Suddenly your hand flies up to pound the wall behind you and you announce the wave of pleasure coursing through your clit through the use of a loud string of expletives. He can feel the way your flesh pulses beneath his tongue and he revels in it. You ride his face so well. You can ride it for as long as you want as often as you want. He wants to tell you that but he also wants you to ride out your high for as long as it lasts, so he lets you buck your hips and raise your cunt off the bed. He lets you thrash around through the sensitivity until you're finally pushing his face off with both hands.

"Good? Do you need more?" he verifies, rising from between your legs to deliver a messy, wet kiss to your lips. He smirks through it, knowing he really doesn't need to ask at all to know the answer.

"Cheeky fuck," you murmur, not bothering to even attempt to hide your matching grin against him. "I need it."

"What do you need?" His fingers trail a soft line down your side, reminding you that his teasing nature is simply a front for his caring heart.

"I need you inside me." Your breathing is spotty as you pepper kisses along his jaw. "Like this. I want you to feel me the way I felt you."

It doesn't take long until you're tasting yourself on his lips again. He shifts slightly and you know he's lining himself up with your entrance when you feel the swollen tip of his fat cock nudging at your hole. He's slow to thrust into you. In fact he stills, only giving you shallow, teasing thrusts. He favors letting you wiggle down just a little bit to coax him in. He smiles against your lips and pushes in further, giving you that stretch you were hoping for.

When you suck in a sharp breath he pulls out, but as soon as you whine in protest, he's already carefully moving to slide it back in. The slow stretch has your jaw dropping open and he takes the opportunity to bite on your lower lip. You take the bait and feed him hungry kisses until he’s completely buried inside of your tight cunt. He takes a moment to growl a low sound that has you clenching around him.

“So tight,” he whispers, pausing to curl an arm beneath your head.

He presses the back of your hand against the mattress as he twines his fingers with yours. He drives himself deeper into you with each slow thrust and it feels like he still can’t get close enough. So you raise your other arm above you and angle it until you’re linking your fingers with the ones beneath your head. You kiss his cheek and savor the intimate moment.

When he lazily sinks into your cunt again you crack a smile. “Can't you fuck me harder than that?"

"Mmm." He lifts his head and seems to accept your challenge. His hips pull out slowly and suddenly slam back into you. This sets a new fervent pace that has you squeezing both of his hands. "What do you think? Is this better?"

You do little to actually answer his question and instead offer a slew of swears and moans each time his balls slap against your ass. "Shit. Fuck, fuck fuck. Yoongi..."

"What kind of answer is that?" he asks innocently.

"God, your cock..."

"Mhm," he prods.

"Feels so good, Yoon."

He chuckles. "Yoon... Cute."

"I'll show you cute," you huff.

"Oh?"

You release his hands in favor of pressing your palms against his chest. He pulls out and before you can miss the way he fills you, you're flipping him down on the mattress. You swing a leg over his pelvis and straddle him. It takes you a moment to properly position yourself. You give his length a few pumps in your hand before lining it up with your entrance.

"Careful," he warns, planting his hands on your thighs. "Don't wear yourself out."

You sink down quicker than you probably should. You're eager to make him cum faster than he did for you. The wetness in your core seeps down in translucent trails down your inner thighs. Your own brand of lubricant seems to be enough to keep the stretch pleasurable. Yoongi bites his lip as he gazes down at the way you're bouncing on his cock. You know how good it feels for him, especially with how hard your pussy is squeezing him.

"Don't worry about me."

The sensory overload building in your gut coated with the memory of the unique experience. It mixes with the high threatening to burn its way from your core. You take a deep breath and exhale loudly before you continue. You revel in a slow descent, memorizing every kind of way the stroke makes you feel. Then you begin to quickly draw him in and out of your cunt. The obscene sounds of wet, rapid slapping fill the room.

After a few minutes you've finally got a good rhythm down. Despite the cramp throbbing down your obliques, he's hitting that sweet spot inside you at just the right angle. If you didn't know any better you'd think you're about to cum again. You steady yourself on his chest and trail your hand to his stomach to maintain your balance. Trying to keep the unrealistic pace you'd previously set for yourself is proving difficult, but you swear you're feeling like maybe you're about to crest into the biggest climax of your life. Then again, it could certainly be the biggest letdown now that you're aware of it. Your orgasms have left you for less.

Yoongi knots his eyebrows together in concentration and he reaches down to rub circles against your clit. His fingers are clumsy and new to this angle but they're feather light. He can see in your face that you're chasing some great new high and he just wants to help you achieve it without overdoing it. He knows how shy your cunt is about giving you orgasms so he really wants to do it right. Is this right? He figures you'll tell him if it isn't.

You moan weakly in response. Suddenly, you know it's coming. You can feel it building every time his hips slap up to meet yours. "Oh my fuck."

His abdominal muscles flex beneath your palm and he forces his breaths through his nose as he struggles to keep himself composed. Your cunt is squeezing him so tightly that he knows he's on the brink of his own release but he's determined to help you feel as good as you make him feel.

"That's it. Cum for me again." He tries to coax it with those strong pleas, but his voice is broken with an inhale sharp enough to cut his words.

Both of your thighs are coated in slick sweat. You don't think you've ever felt so fucking wet in your life. He glistens just as much in the dim light so you know between the two of you there's a puddle of sweat soaking your sheets. It's easy to forget how gross or embarrassing it is when the tip of his cock rubs against your g-spot so well. Right now the only thing that matters is getting relief for this pressure building behind your clit.

Despite the shakiness of his fingers, he's able to coax it out of you. Your trembling thighs feel like an earthquake that's finally reached its peak tremor and you find yourself crying out and bouncing to the rhythm of your spasming cunt. You chant your praises and curses in the same breath. His name is a drawn out breathy expression of gratitude and bliss. As soon as you slump forward to kiss him he takes your hands in his own and frantically pumps himself up into you. He can still feel the involuntary flex of your cunt even after you've clearly expended every ounce of your energy reaching and literally riding out your second orgasm.

"Can I cum inside?" he asks between frantic breaths.

"Well, you're not gonna make it to these tits," you tease with a smirk. You may be spent but you'll always have the energy to give him shit. "Do it."

"So fuckin hot," he mumbles against your lips.

The muffled grunts expelled against your mouth and the slow, deliberate snap of his hips leave you in a state of surreal euphoria. He squeezes your hands in his along with his release to let you know this is real. You're here with him. When he comes down from his high he kisses you gently one more time and pulls back to look at you. You take the break in physical connection to roll off of him and stretch out your aching calves and let the air from the fan cool your skin. The tingling in your legs tells you not to get up right now, as much as the fear of a UTI screams at you to do the contrary. Instead you turn your head towards Yoongi and he smiles at you. Sleep threatens to take you when he begins to stroke your hair.

"If you'd have told me last week I'd feel this close to someone, I'd have laughed at you," he starts in a quiet voice, "but I feel really close to you. I'm glad this insanity happened to us."

"Me too." You can't help but smile back. "I don't want to go to sleep because I'm afraid you'll be gone when I wake up. What if this is a dream?"

"Then I'll find you when I wake up. You'd better find me too."

"What if we forget?"

He grabs your hand and runs his thumb over your knuckles. "I won't forget."

"Promise?"

"Mhm." He closes his eyes, clearly every bit as exhausted as you are. He's quiet for a minute and you think maybe he's already fallen asleep until he peeks out from under his eyelids. "... I think you need glasses."

"What?"

"I was just thinking. I felt like I was squinting all the time when I was you. Maybe that's why it took you so long to see how I felt." He shows off a big, toothy grin.

"Wow that guy really rubbed off on you, huh?"

You smack him in the face with a pillow when you get up.

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

The muffin and can of Hot6 sit on the counter, guarded by Yoongi's forearm.

"Wow, you already have my stuff ready? Is this the kind of perk I get for dating the owner?" you wonder.

He rolls his eyes. "Not yours until you pay for it."

"You're so sweet, not eating my muffin this time."

He drags his lip through his teeth and tries to hold back a devilish smirk. "I've found better things to eat, don't you think?"

Your heart thumps against your chest and you do your best to remind yourself that offering to suck his dick behind the counter is not what you should be doing in this situation. But you want it so bad. He watches your internal struggle with raised eyebrows and a smug smile. He slides the energy drink towards you.

"Here. This is on me today. You look a little thirsty."

Your shoulders raise and then deflate with your sigh. "Do you even want me to come back later?"

"What? It's free for you. You should be happy."

"And the muffin? What do I owe for that?"

He mimics your dramatic sigh and places it before you. "It's crazy. Your boyfriend offered to pay for that too."

"He's so generous." You shake your head but it can't keep the grin from your face. "Lots of free stuff today."

"It's a... special for today only. So don't get used to it or anything. But there is one more thing we're having a sale on, if you're interested."

"Hmm?"

"Free of charge, for you only." He taps his lips with both pointers, looking impossibly cute. His charm is devastating, really.

He cracks a smile and you feel yours grow impossibly wider. You lean over the counter and give him a sweet kiss.

"How long does this offer last?"

"As long as you want."

"Forever."

"Forever, it is." He gives you one more quick peck. "I've gotta mop the floor and you're gonna be late for work."

"Ugh. Wanna trade?"

He purses his lips and gives your hand a little squeeze. "Not a chance."

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The music monopolists

Writing in Wired, Institute for Local Self Reliance researcher and anti-monopolist Ron Knox gives a thorough, important account of how music industry monoplization resulted declining revenue for artists, even as the industry itself has reaped greater profits.

https://www.wired.com/story/opinion-big-music-needs-to-be-broken-up-to-save-the-industry/

Importantly, Knox describes how concentration has come to every link in music’s supply chain, from radio to recording, streaming to live performance. The monopolists who dominate these sectors fight fiercely between each other, but no matter who wins, artists lose.

Let’s go segment by segment. Two thirds of all North American music comes from three labels. The labels grew through anticompetitive mergers: giant companies, awash in investor cash, bought out mid-sized, successful labels, turning them into subdivisions of the Big Three.

The more concentrated the labels got, the worse they were for everyone. They spent the nineties and naughties price-gouging record companies, pocketing hundreds of millions from an illegal price-fixing conspiracy. The fines they paid were smaller than the profits they reaped.

But at least they distributed music. Today, the struggling physical record store industry — a network of passionate music sellers who serve the most intense music fans — find themselves getting “record shipments” that turn out to be boxes of random stuff like cough syrup (!).

That happened when the Big Three all piled their distribution into a single company, the monopolist Direct Shot Distributing. As Direct Shot started to fail, its operations descended into chaos, and record stores started to receive boxes of random consumer packaged goods.

It was bad news for the non-monopolized, music-first record stores, but it barely registered for the Big Three labels — today, they buy an average of two new acts every day.

The labels don’t make money from selling records, of course. They get their money from streaming.

Streaming is also massively concentrated, gathered into the hands of just a few companies: Spotify, Apple, Youtube, Amazon — with the notable exception of Spotify, the industry is dominated by companies that also monopolize other sectors.

Monopolies are good to these companies. Spotify’s market-cap doubled during the pandemic — the market values its 150m subs (twice as many as subscribe with Apple) at $50b. The major labels get $1m/hour from streaming. 99% of their artists see $25/year in streaming royalties.

Spotify may be the biggest streaming service, but it’s not the lowest-paying. Youtube — a Google division, whose unsuccessful attempt to launch an in-house video service convinced it that it had to buy someone else’s success — drives the worst bargain.

Spotify uses its industry dominance to extract heavy fees from the labels — creaming 30% of the total revenue generated by a typical track. Big Three monopolists with fat margins can absorb this. Indies? Not so much.

Spotify’s market cap growth is in part due to the new ways it’s come up with to shake down the labels — a variety of tactics that all boil down to one thing: payola. Spotify will sell labels pop-up ads, placement in “radio” algorithms, and access to “Discovery mode.”

Like all forms of payola, Spotify’s rate-card is a way for monopolists to edge out indies, buying their way into your ear-holes. I’m sure that the Big Three would rather keep the bribes they pay to Spotiify, but the consolation prize is pretty sweet.

If the Big Three are the only ones who can afford to buy access to Spotify’s audience, then creators are driven to sign with them, and have less bargaining leverage when they negotiate their deals.

Spotify, meanwhile, can consolidate its gains by driving up those fees, pitting labels against each other in a bidding war for access to listeners. This effectively drives down the royalty rate Spotify pays, because every new track will have to buy in to get any reach.

Spotify talks a good game about how it uses big data and machine learning to pick the songs you hear, but increasingly, the algorithm is getting far less compute-intensive, a simple sort-by-highest-bidder system you could operate from a laptop running Windows 3.1 and Excel.

In theory, streaming losses can be made up with touring. Acts who attain digital popularity can charge access at the door to clubs and other venues. The only problem is that live performance is also a monopoly business.

The 800lb gorilla there is Livenation, a division of the ticket monopolist and notorious arm-breakers Ticketmaster — spun out of Clear Channel, the monopolist that we now know as Iheartradio.

Livenation parlayed its access to the capital markets to buy out $1b worth of venues and promoters, before being acquired by Clear Channel for $4.4b in 2005. Today, it’s a division of Liberty Media, consolidated with Ticketmaster, Pandora, and Siriusxm.

What goes around, comes around: Liberty’s private equity owners are in the process of buying up Iheartradio, re-merging all of Clear Channel’s spinouts into one giga-monopolist.

The conglomerate already coerces artists to book exclusively in its clubs and using its ticketing, starving independent venues. Add 850 terrestrial radio stations to the mix and it will choke off all the oxygen that independent venues, promoters and ticketers rely on.

Liberty didn’t buy all these companies because it’s passionate about music and wanted to ensure artists got a fair shake. By rolling up the entire live music/radio supply-chain, it bought the power to extract vast sums from musicians, and to keep rivals out of the market.

Well, not all competitors. Lollapalooza co-founder Marc Geiger raised tens of millions for “Savelive,” a new would-be monopolist that offered to “rescue” live music venues in exchange for a 51% stake in them.

Savelive illustrates an important point about the nature of monopolies: they beget more monopolies. Consolidation in the labels meant that only the largest streaming companies could negotiate a sustainable rate.

But consolidation in radio drives consolidation in labels — and many of the indie radio stations that survived the first wave of consolidation were picked up cheap by Iheartradio once monopolistic streamers ate their lunch.

This is a pattern across the whole entertainment industry: bookstore mergers and big box retailers drove consolidation in publishing; that was accelerated by consolidation in online ebook and physical book retail.

It’s not limited to the entertainment sector either. As David Dayen describes in his essential book MONOPOLIZED, hospitals didn’t start consolidating until the pharma industry underwent a wave of brutal mergers and started gouging for drugs.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/29/fractal-bullshit/#dayenu

Hospital consolidation led to gouging insurers, leading to a wave of insurance consolidation. Today, nearly every part of the health industry is monopolized, from pharmacy benefit managers to medical labs.

The only parts of the supply chain that doesn’t monopolize — that can’t monopolize — are the ends of the chain: the people who work in the system, and the people who use it.

Monopoly punishes doctors and nurses and other health workers — and it punishes patients.

It punishes writers and publishing workers, and it punishes readers.

It punishes musicians and independent venue owners, and it punishes listeners.

When every part of the supply chain gets so monopolized that it can’t easily be squeezed by any other part of the supply chain, these giants turn on us — the workers and users of the system. We, the atomized and fragmented, cannot resist the squeeze.

But as Knox writes, the tide is turning. After 40 years of waving through anticompetitive mergers in the name of “efficiency,” the DoJ and FTC are under new management, with two-fisted trustbusters like Lina M Khan at the helm.

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/party-its-1979-og-antitrust-back-baby

This new cohort of monopoly fighters reject the “consumer welfare” theory of antitrust (the idea that monopolies drive prices down and are therefore good for society), going to war against the hegemonic orthodoxy that began with Ronald Reagan.

https://doctorow.medium.com/epic-v-apple-d3e59893b4f3

The new antitrust is surging, with bills in the House and Senate, executive orders from the White House, regulatory proceedings at the DoJ and FTC, and an interagency-cabinet coordination committee that ties it all together.

This new antitrust promises workers and users of monopolized industries a better alternative than rooting for one giant to beat another in hopes that they will drop a few crumbs for the rest of us to enjoy.

Creative workers don’t have to choose between Big Tech and Big Content based on their assessment of which monopolist will abuse them the least. Instead, we can root for antimonopoly, for giant-slaying, and the right to self-determination.

The most important immediate step towards that future is blocking new anticompetitive mergers, like Sony’s bid for AWAL, or Liberty Media’s use of a $500m SPAC to go on a vertical monopoly shopping spree.

The agencies have the power to stop these. They should. When you find yourself in a hole, stop digging.

But ending anticompetitive mergers won’t get us out of that hole: most industries (from beer to cheerleader uniforms to wresting to eyeglasses) are already monopolized.

The new trustbusters — and the ILSR — want to use antitrust law to break up these conglomerates. I think that’s right: vertical monopolies will always engage in self-dealing to the detriment of independents, workers and customers. Break. Them. Up.

But breaking up is hard to do. When the DoJ tried to break up IBM, the company’s lawyers outspent the entire DoJ antitrust division, every single year, for twelve consecutive years, and in the end, it escaped breakup.

That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. IBM escaped justice because Reagan was elected and neutered antitrust. And even though it remained intact, it was never the same — for one thing, it decided that it was too risky to make its own PC OS.

IBM knew that antitrust enforcers were very suspicious of tying software to hardware — so it tapped a couple of hacker kids, Bill Gates and Paul Allen, to sell it DOS, from their new company “Micro-Soft.”

Unfortunately for all of us, antitrust enforcement only declined after that, so IBM was able to return to its monopolistic ways, and Microsoft escaped from antitrust scrutiny after a mere seven years in regulatory hell.

Antitrust enforcement can sap monopolists of the will to power, as they become increasingly concerned that their actions will attract aggressive legal reprisals.

Think of how Apple “lost” the Epic lawsuit but still “voluntarily” rescinded its heretofore hard rule against apps providing links to web-pages where you can use third-party payment processors to make purchases.

As monopolists lose their nerve, space opens up for all kinds of pro-worker, pro-user interventions, far beyond those afforded by traditional antitrust.

Next year, Beacon Press will publish THE SHAKEDOWN, a book I co-wrote with Rebecca Giblin about the monopolistic corruption of creative labor markets and how creative workers, regulators and fans can resist it.

The Shakedown catalogs the ways that monopolization of investment, distribution and sale of creative works allows entertainment companies, Big Tech, and major retailers to shift an ever-larger share of the creative industry’s revenues from workers to themselves.

More importantly, we identify tools beyond breakups that we can use to de-monopolize the industry — things we can do right now, without having to wait for the conclusion of an antitrust suit that might run for decades.

Take reversion rights: many copyright systems allow creators to take back their rights after a set period (35 years in the US). This lets artists who signed bad deals — before they were proven successes — to resell their catalog or extract reparations by threatening to.

But reversion is really hard to do, and 35 years is way too long. Only an handful of creators — even those with valuable catalogs that could be renewed through reversion — ever manage it.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/06/backsies/#take-backs

Congress (and other legislatures around the world, including Canada, where this is likely to come up in the new Parliament) could fix reversion: make it easier to do, and make it available after a shorter period — say, 14 years.

And what about those bad contracts? The “freedom to contract” has always been subject to limits, where some clauses are deemed unenforceable “as against public policy” or because they are “unconscionable.”

With the entertainment sector consolidated into just a couple of states, state legislatures could act to void the most abusive clauses — for example, clauses that allow labels to claw back royalties indefinitely to recoup (often inflated or fictitious) “expenses.”

Our book explores dozens of these kinds of ideas, from co-operatives to trade unions; better accounting practices and direct arts subsidies; radical interoperability and collective licensing; minimum wages for creative labor and collective bargaining.

None of these are replacement for reducing the size and power of conglomerates throughout the supply chain, but all of them are interventions we can make as the power and nerve of conglomerates declines, changes that will hasten that decline and open more space for breakups.

And all of them are applicable, to a greater or lesser extent, to helping workers and users of all the other consolidated industries, from health care to cheerleading.

For example, expanding California’s ban on noncompete clauses would help fast-food workers nationwide — because today, fast food employers are the most aggressive abusers of noncompetes.

That means that a fried chicken cashier earning the tipped minimum wage can’t quit to work at a burger joint across the street for a $0.25/hour raise. Creative workers aren’t the only ones suffering from monopolization — we’re not even the worst off.

But by definition, creative workers have a platform. We reach people. We have the potential to help form the kind of unstoppable coalition that we’ll need to reverse the generations of oligarchic, post-Reagan consolidation.

You may have heard about how Danish McDonald’s workers earn $22/hour and get six weeks’ paid vacation and sick leave. That didn’t come about because McDonald’s was required by law to pay it.

It was worker solidarity that did it. As Matt Bruenig writes, McDonald’s initially refused to sign the voluntary “hotel and restaurant” collective agreement. So its workers went on strike.

https://mattbruenig.com/2021/09/20/when-mcdonalds-came-to-denmark/

Now, if McD’s workers had struck alone, they’d probably have lost. But Danish law allows for sympathy strikes — that is, it allows workers in other parts of the supply chain to take industrial action to support their sisters and brothers who are striking.

When the McD’s workers walked out in 1989, sixteen other sectoral unions joined them. They didn’t just help picket at leaflet in front of McD’s restaurants!

Dockworkers wouldn’t unload McD’s shipments. Printers wouldn’t print their cups and placemats.

Builders downed tools on McDonald’s construction projects. Typesetters wouldn’t set the McD’s ads in the daily papers. Truckers wouldn’t deliver to McD’s restaurants. Food industry workers wouldn’t produce the drink syrups, fries and other inputs to the McDonald’s kitchens.

McD’s caved.

Now, as Bruenig points out, these kinds of sympathy strikes are illegal in the US, but it’s a mistake to think that workers don’t have power because sympathy strikes are illegal — rather, sympathy strikes are illegal because workers don’t have power.

Workers across all sectors face the same kinds of monopolistic exploitation. Workers across all sectors have a common enemy (literally, thanks to “common ownership” where companies like Vanguard and Berkshire Hathaway hold significant stakes in almost every major company).

With a shared cause, shared tactics, solidarity and a renewed sense that we can do more than root for the giant we think will mistreat us the least, creative workers and their sisters and brothers in every sector can reverse generations of losses.

That’s why the new antitrust matters — because it is an assault on the consolidation that gives all industries the power to shift money and other forms of value from workers and users to a small elite of investors.

[popculturebuffet]

House of Mouse April Fools Special: Donald’s Pumbaa Prank (Patreon Review for WeirdKev27)

Hello all you happy people and welcome to my April Fool’s Special! And it’s also my patreon review for the month as Kev just so happened to randomly hit this one and once I realized it was an april fools episode I moved it up since things have been kinda hectic in the old brainpan lately, and as such my output slowed down a bit so I really wasn’t in great shape to do 4 episodes in one day. So instead see what hyjinks, fart jokes and murders of beloved disney characters insue under the cut as the hosue of mouse gets a bit foolish

The Wraparound:

It’s April Fools day at the House of Mouse and Donald pulls a prank on MIckey by cutting his break lines.. wait no that was last year. No this year he just puts some wax on the stage and MIckey trips, Donald laughs. Now if this were the real world this would be really dangerous and probably destroy their friendship and MIckey’s spine. But this is a cartoon that runs on cartoon physics. He was in no real danger. So Mickey’s retaliation on the other hand.. is just showing embarassing footage of Donald. It makes him come off as unecessarily cruel as instead of an actual prank or joke it’s just “Hey look at this embarassing footage of my friend I dug up”

This plot DOES get a lot bettter though after the setup: Pete talks Donald into kidnapping Pumba, planning to use Pumbas farts to clear out the club...

Yeah i’m not big on fart jokes. I’m not against them, when used right they can be comedy gold.. this song from bobs burgers is one such example

It’s just a lot of times farts and other bodily functions are used as the joke alone. That’s it. There’s no actual laughs or content too said laughs, i’ts jsut this is gross.  Thankfully this episode does not go really deep down the grossdout rabit hole, as we don’t see the fart on screen.. but it still dosen’t make “Pumbas’ ass gas is going to destroy the house of mouse” funny. 

There are some funny gags though: Donald’s method of distracting Timon so Pete can kidnap Pumbaa is to just stand there not saying anything and weirding Timon out , their replacement is just a bowling ball, two horns and a sack of something, and when Timon goes looking for Pumbaa, finds Zazu under a plate the hyena’s have.. and then just leaves him there. Seriously Timon just.. let’s Zazu die and I am here for it. 

Donald meanwhile thinks Mickey is planning another prank after mickey apologizes and has a special thing planned but it’s really jsut a lifetime achivment award, so Donald tries to stop it, then reveals the truth when Pumba shows up.. and gets his award taken away. Even though he had every reason to think Mickey was going to pull something because honest as he is i’ts april fools day. Mickey just... obnoxious in this one and it speaks to a larger problem with the series I remember from when I was a kid that i’ve noticed once or twice now: The show tends to have Squidward Syndrome, i.e. it treats Donald who can be obnoxious as wrong.. even when he’s done nothing wrong THIS EPISODE, like spongebob did to squidward at times, or if he has done something wrong his punishment is dispororitante. Donald did a minor prank.. and MIckey publicly humiliated him and Donald TREID to stop his prank. And goes above and behond to stop it, taking the fart attack at ground zero. Speaking of which the fart attack scene from parks and rec, also a good fart joke. 

And MIckey.. learns nothing by playing the test footage again even though Donald was just ground zero at an attomic level ass.

Final Thoughts for the Wraparound: It’s not great. I”m noticing that trend with Season 1 in general, where they really just didn’t have a ton of idea of what to do with the wraparounds. The episodes still vary in quality, but outside of the pilot most of the season 1 episodes are pretty disapointing as an adult, very simplistic plots that often don’t use the club’s nature to their full advantage or the characters to the same. It would get better though, but it’s something to notice. onto the shorts. 

The Friend for Life: This is a pretty simple one. Sam and Max, are after the mad Thesipian, whose exactly what he sounds like. We even get a really neat visual gag as sam just.. uses his little buddy as a sword while the Thespian uses a candelabra. But while our Freelance Police catch the weirdo, and Max takes a ride in the saftey tramp they set up for the guy, he escapes when the two are distracted by Norm, THE FRIEND FOR LIFEEEEEEEE. An obessive fanboy played by Patrick Mackenna of the Red Green Show, esentially playing an older and stalkery version of Harold.. now I think about it this might be his dad. I mean we don’t know where he went or what hapepend to the guy. Maybe he just went to the states to obesss over a rabbit and Dog. I don’t know. 

Lorne wants to help our heroes while Max understandably wants to run him over and sam just runs past him the minute they can. But despite finding the thespians layer  Max: (Singsong) We’re here to arressttt youuu Sam: (Also singsong): Rememberrrrr.. crimesss against humanitty? But it turns out Lorne, THE FRIEEEND FOR LIFFFEEEE, kidnapped him and puts on a show for htem of fighting thier old eneimies and a roller coaster death trap. Our heroes escape and begrudignly thank lorne even if they find his stalker shrine a bit much. 

Final Thoughts for The Friend For LIfe: A really solid episode and the fact i’ve binged several sam and max episodes since then really speaks to how good this one was. Seriously really funny stuff and I didn’t even cover half the great jokes in this one. Check it out, it’s on youtube. 

Mickey’s April Fools: An odd one but a fun one. MIckey is taking his asshole pills and goes overboard with his pranks, faking proposing to Minnie and faking his death after Mortimer pranks him. But it works... I mean is it grossly out of character? Oh god yes. Would it have made more sense by swapping out Mickey, Minnie and Mortimer with Donald, Daisy and either the boys or pete? Entirely. Is this short still hilarous. Yup. While i’ts not the best they’ve done on the show, it’s still really entertaining. The two end up getting him back, MOrtimer by faking a will reading only to have it go really poorly for Mickey as his death was reported, donald refuses to help due to Mickey’s last words to mortimer being “I’ve never undestood him” and Goofy being.. goofy. And MIckey is left hanging from a pole by minnie because fuck him. An out of character one.. but the sheer oddity of mickey being this dickish in the house of mouse shorts makes it work.  Be A Man: As a debut album for Randy Savage this Album is audotirally fucktacular, and with some polish randy could’ve had a long and successful rap career. As it stands, it is a sad one off not ein his career. 

Critters: On an asteroid prison, a group of dangerous aliens known as Krites are set to be transported to another station. The Krites engineer an escape and hijack a ship, prompting the warden to hire two shape-changing bounty hunters to pursue them to Earth. Studying life on Earth via various satellite television transmissions, the first bounty hunter assumes the form of rock star Johnny Steele, while the second remains undecided, thus retaining his blank, featureless head. On a rural Kansas farm, the Brown family sits down to breakfast. Father Jay and mother Helen send teenage daughter April and younger son Brad off to school while waiting on mechanic Charlie McFadden. A former baseball pitcher, Charlie has become the town drunk and crackpot, with claims of alien abductions foretold by messages through his fillings.

Playing with overly potent self-made fireworks and Charlie's slingshot, Brad takes the blame when Charlie accidentally shoots April and is grounded as a result. On the roof that evening, Brad mistakes the Critters' crashing spaceship for a meteorite; Jay and Brad investigate and interrupt the creatures consuming a cow. The creatures thereafter kill and feed on a local police officer, and later besiege the farm and cut its electrical connection. While checking the circuit breaker, Jay is attacked by one of the Critters and, being severely wounded, just barely manages to escape

.In the barn, April is about to have sex with her boyfriend Steve when he is killed by the one of the Critters; the creature itself is slain when it devours one of Brad's lit firecrackers. The remaining Critters sabotage the Browns' and Steve's cars, forcing the Browns to hole up inside the main house. Meanwhile, the two bounty hunters search the town for the Critters, causing a panic at the church and bowling alley, with the second hunter assuming the form of various townspeople, including Charlie. Brad escapes the farm to get help and runs into the bounty hunters, and upon learning of their true nature and intentions, he leads them to the Critters' location.

The last surviving Critters kidnap April and return to their ship when the bounty hunters arrive, and attempt to flee. Charlie and Brad manage to rescue April, but Brad drops a large firecracker he intended to use to destroy the ship when the Critters discover their escape. Just as the Critters take off and destroy the farmhouse out of spite, Charlie throws a Molotov cocktail made from his whiskey bottle into the ship, causing a fire which detonates the cracker and kills the Critters. The bounty hunters leave in their ship after giving Brad a handheld device to contact them in case of future invasion, and also restore the house. Unbeknownst to them, Critter eggs can be seen in the barn inside a chicken's nest that seem to be ready to hatch.

Final Thoughts on Critters: Critters is a wonderful film, despite what Rapheal from the teenage mutant ninja turtles might think but fuck him he has scabies. It’s fun, energetic, and ahs a great premise of instead of it JUST being on our heroes to repel the invaders, their caught between two diffrent sets of aliens instead and instead of a chisled jawed heroes the good aliens are simply bounty hunters with no care about collateral and only doing a job. It’s a damn fine film and I still need to make time to watch the sequel. 

Donald’s River Thing:

This is a simple one. Donald plans to go fishing, finds out it’s his and Daisy’s anniversary, her half birthday and valentine’s day and has to take her along and make it like a thing while being a dick about wanting to still fish, but in a very funny way while the local fish fight back. This is easily the standout of the episode incredibly funny, increidbly wholesome, and an incredibly good time. Really great stuff. 

Invincible Episodes 1-3:

This seires is fucking fantastic and you should go watch it. GO WATCH IT. 

Final Thoughts overall: 

YOUR NOT WATCHING IT

Final Thoughts Overall: This is a decent episode not much to say except HIT IT BOYS

[tosikoarts]

SFW Alphabet | Tsukishima Hajime

Here he comes, my favorite boy. You can check tosikowrites tag for more. Warning: there’s a lot under the cut.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Showing affection is something Tsukishima forgot how to do. It is almost foreign to him after what happened with Igogusa, after years of war and service under the leadership of Tsurumi. He knows exactly how easily happiness can be acquired and how easily it can be taken away, by unknown forces and by someone close to him.

An obvious sign of interest would be gratuitous help that Tsukishima offers to the person. When everything falls out of hand, he is right there to catch. Tsukishima does little errands in between taking care of Koito’s whims and bigger ones he saves for later to look at them closer. He genuinely enjoys helping them and seeing how grateful smile lights up their face.

Another one would be small gestures like walking them home after dark or bringing unpretentious little thingies that made Tsukishima think of them. If he goes to the market and notices their favorite candy, he will surely buy it. At times, it gets more serious. For example, if they wanted nice new shoes, Tsukishima will save money up from his sergeant's salary to afford the best pair in the shop.

Letters. So many letters. A soldier's life presents a gift in the form of partings, and in order to somehow compensate frequent  goodbyes and innumerable kilometers between them, Tsukishima puts his heart and soul into letters. They may not be that frequent, and he keeps crossing out words that seem too sweet, but it is the very intimate way to maintain the precious bond.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Local mom-friend that takes care of you when you are suffering the worst hangover and saves your ass from last night’s consequences. Tsukishima puts all the effort to shield his best friend from problems, and if they are inevitable, he has a clear plan of actions how to fix unfixable and repair unrepairable.

Responsibility is another of his distinctive features. When it comes to school or work, he is second to none: Tsukishima is up to help with difficult tasks or take on the role of mentor. He is amazingly good teacher, albeit strict at times, that has the ability to explain the most confusing concepts better than that Indian guy on YouTube.

Is it worth mentioning that he is a devoted friend? It doesn’t matter what happened between him and his friend in the past, Tsukishima always comes back to them. No distance, no time, no other people are able to make him turn around and leave a friend to the mercy of fate.

Probably the friend you think you know well but suddenly it turns out he has more dark secrets than the most deranged madlad from your fried group. Also, you can’t judge him. Only accept. You know if Tsukishima had to do somthing, he had his reasons you are not allowed to question.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Yeah, of course, but he hasn’t cuddled anyone in years (young whining Koito that craves reassurance and family warmth doesn’t count) so it may be awkward. It is very likely that he will simply move over, apologize, and wait for the next time when he is more comfortable with all of love dumped on him. Tsukishima doesn’t care about positions and will adapt to the partner’s desires whether they want to spoon him or be kept on his lap. Cuddles are combined with back rubs, massages, head pats, even hair brushing and braiding if they are not afraid of tangles.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Both wants to and is afraid of settling down by himself, left alone with his loved one. Over the years spent in the army, he lost the sense of life’s fullness, and now Tsukishima drifts freely without a specific direction. Military is where he belongs to, it gives him purpose and reason to exist, and as time passed, he forgot how to live outside the barracks. Gentle persuasion would be the best option to assure Tsukishima in his ability of living normal life. Maybe, owning a small house overlooking rocky shore and sparkling ocean isn’t a bad idea, he just isn’t ready to accept it. Both great in cooking and cleaning, prefers to do the latter.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He is visibly uncomfortable when confronted about working late and postponing previously such long-awaited dates. Tsukishima is lost for words since he can find none that could describe how sorry he is. Inner guilt forced him to defer this moment until the last minute: breaking-up right before another trip (the further the better) will make it impossible to crawl back to them when loneliness overtakes him again. Overthinks a lot. Nevertheless, Tsukishima finally speaks out in an even calm voice, as if he is reporting to his superiors, apologizes, and bows low. So low that chances of meeting their surprised gaze drop to zero. He quickly retreats without giving them the opportunity to say anything in return. Drinks more than usual during the trip, makes Koito nervous with unfriendly passive-aggressive aura he carries for weeks.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

This is the part where Rick Astley’s Never Gonna Give You Up starts playing because this is the man who fits all of the chorus lines perfectly. Tsukishima grows attached to the loved one fast and after this he is physically unable to think romantically of anyone else. Igogusa’s memory is another proof of his deep, borderline painful commitment. One year or year and a half is enough time for Tsukishima to start looking at municipal government office with certain interest. He takes marriage very seriously though, he dates for it, not for entertainment.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He is what a soldier is trained to be (so not so gentle in physical plane) but you don’t have to dig deep to see Tsukishima’s hidden soft core. In everyday life, he's an absolute sweetheart. All he really wants in a relationship is to love and be loved, that’s all. Tsukishima doesn't even have a lurking desire, intrusive thoughts of messing with the feelings unlike some individuals. Soft, soft, soft, and he doesn’t deny it.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

It feels like a child’s hug: tight and unhesitant, with his hands wrapped around person’s waist and face buried in their neck. Light blush covers Tsukishima’s cheeks and he can’t stop smiling. If his partner is smaller than he is, Tsukishima will pick them up, and if they are taller he will try to hug them as if to almost hide in their arms. Picking him up will result in embarrassed exclamations but Tsukishima actually enjoys their attention.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

One year is the limit. Less time than 6 months feels a little bit rushed to him and more than one year seems like an unnecessary delay. Tsukishima is expectedly sincere in his confession; he doesn’t hold back and wriggle because of how confident he is in his feelings. It is not a long rehearsed monologue but a stream of consciousness, full of confessions how he likes their shining eyes, how their clumsiness makes his day a little brighter, how their whole character amazes him from day to day. The only thing that can possibly overwhelm Tsukishima is the overthinking of their possible negative reaction. One of his biggest fears is to appear too persistent with the confession and scare them away so he puts a lot of thought in choosing the right time and the right place.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Obviously expects his partner to reject any cheeky suitor since he understands that their natural beauty is hard to resist. If they choose to accept stranger’s attentions, Tsukishima feels insulted and betrayed. Trust is a key factor in the relationship so such irresponsible attitude towards the loyalty huts him deeply and rises suspicion of oncoming break-up. Also, being in limbo and asking himself whether they want to be with him or not takes a toll on Tsukishima’s psyche. He becomes more withdrawn and taciturn and spends more time busy at work with trying to distract himself from intrusive thoughts.

If his partner decides to go around and flirt, Tsukishima will be overtaken with anger. He is furious. The glass in his hand sonorously cracks under the pressure while he watches them ungodly teasing unsuspecting men. He doesn’t start a fight or scream at his loved one and keeps everything inside. It is enough for him to witness such behavior two times to leave them without long explanations and quarrels.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

A bit inept and greedy. Tsukishima tends to defer the kiss until his partner is ready to nicely ask him for one but after that he is completely in for a ride. The last time he kissed anyone is unknown-how-many-years-ago so it is natural for Tsukishima to be a little bit sloppy and eager. Lip kisses are golden classic and fits his character perfectly. It takes a good push to shift things in more intimate direction though. The most efficient way to do it is to play on Tsukishima's weaknesses: the back of his neck as well as earlobes and straight line down the spine. A few gentle touches and hardened composed soldier melts down like an ice on the sun.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

If you want to calm down a crying baby just give it to Tsukishima. It seems like kids feel sympathy when looking at his tired face and try to cause little trouble so as not to disappoint him even more. Smart children clearly amuse him, and Tsukishima strongly encourages their desire for knowledge, their curiosity and ambitions. Every now and then sudden thoughts about starting his own family pop up in his head but Tsukishima is kind of indecisive. Right now he is not ready to take on such responsibility, but in the future, dream of starting a big family could become a reality.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

It is impossible to catch Tsukishima in the morning during work week and it still isn’t that easy on the weekend. Insomnia keeps him up at nights so his day can start a long before his partner opens their eyes. On such nights, he goes for a lonely walk around the block and, on his return, prepares a light breakfast for two. There are also rare moments when Tsukishima falls asleep right before first sunbeam reaches earth. Those are the days when he sleeps in and refuses to get up from the bed, trapping his loved one in tight cuddle. Nuzzling into their neck, Tsukishima mutters that he needs five more minutes and he will definitely let go but five minutes turn into half of hour, then hour, and he never fulfills the promise.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

A great lover of a quiet pastime he is, Tsukishima likes to spend evenings playing intellectual games like shogi and reading whatever comes to hand. One of his favorite activities is resting his head on the partner’s knees and listening to them reading aloud haikus or other classic Japanese works. On warm summer nights, Tsukishima likes to go to the river or lake for skinny dipping since most onsens are separated by gender. Even if there is one that is not, he would still prefer more secluded place where there is no reason to worry about onlookers. If his partner wants to something more active and social, they will have to choose something not too overwhelming. Small friend gatherings are okay but huge parties drain the rest of the life from him.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Here is the thing: to pull personal information out of Tsukishima you have to know what to ask. You can’t say “Tell me how you got into army” and expect a little frank story, no. It would take a whole “It seems you and Lieutenant Tsurumi share some story” or something even more shifty to make him open up about this topic. It doesn’t mean that he is trying to hide something on purpose, but it definitely means he never had anyone to trust. Any claims that he is too secretive offend Tsukishima too.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Utter unshakable calmness in the middle of 7th Division craziness, either way because he has seen too much shit already or because he has no active neurons to react to it (insomnia, your know?). As a person who puts up with brain-juice leaking leader, spoiled naive brat in the dawn of youthful maximalism, mentally unstable fan boy, and mutilated lack-all on the verge of breakdown, he won’t even pay attention to small inconveniences. In quarrels, Tsukishima always appeals to rationality and perfectly avoids any escalation of the conflict. You have to ruin his life for him to snap, and when he does, someone’s neck will snap too.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Pays attention to them whenever around but forgets most of the stuff easily. Tsukishima only remembers one or two specific details that he can use practically in the future, like what their allergies are or what they want for the birthday. For the rest he has a small personal page in the notebook where he writes down little things that definitely will not stay in his memory for a long time. His writing comes in the code of abbreviations and numbers to make sure nobody pries into his personal life.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Used to be the one responsible in the group, he would probably remember moments where he was the one that had to be cared for. For once Tsukishima came down with a high fever and unbearable weakness, and it was a moment when his loved one jumped into merciless care-mode. He was put into bed with three pillows, teacup waiting for him on the nightstand, and even the most determined statements that he needed to finish some things have been met with indisputable refusal. They spun around him bringing medicine, food, and water whole day so Tsukishima couldn’t stop blaming himself for the helplessness. At the same time, his feelings of gratitude and love intensified with every thoughtful gesture so by the end of unfortunate leave Tsukishima almost regretted returning to his usual hectic life.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Previous experiences with both romantic relationship and role of sergeant-nanny taught Tsukishima one thing: danger is always there, even if it is not visible to the naked eye. A passerby can hide a loaded gun under his clothes, so there is not point to talk about hired killers, invisible diseases, natural disasters etc. Based on the above it is natural for Tsukishima be on the alert. He wants to know where his partner is going and with whom, warns them about his gut feeling if he has one, and, of course, intervenes at the sight of real danger without any second thought. Like this man would give up his life for a person who deserves it. Not at any point in time, Tsukishima expects his partner to protect him but if it happens, he will be extremely mad at them and himself too.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Tsukishima has a low social battery for the most of the time so he has to manage energy according to importance of the affairs. There is always a little bit more saved for his loved one, but you can’t really tell that he puts all of the effort into relationship. If work affairs did not suck the remnants of happiness from him, Tsukishima may stop and get a nice box of sweets or fruits. For special dates like their Birthday or anniversary, he saves money for a worthwhile present: for a female lover he would probably go for a beautiful silk tenga obi with celebratory motives or handmade jewelry box, and for male lover he would choose chopsticks with personalized engraving or exquisite lacquerware. Performs household chores well, although sometimes he has to be reminded about their existence.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Although Tsukishima is a stronghold of common sense, - he always keeps everything to himself, puts on a poker face, - once person gets on his nerves, they will see the worst side of him. Thanks to the famous reliability, Tsukishima learns where person’s weak spots are fast and he can easily hit them where it hurts with bold spiteful words.

Puts work over relationships. Setting to serve the homeland faithfully and unquestioningly rooted deep in his mind and now it is impossible to re-educate this shabby sergeant. Even in serious relationship, Tsukishima remembers about his duty as a soldier and as a son of Japan so he takes a lot of additional paperwork home.

As someone who used to be ordered around, Tsukishima still needs a guidance in the relationship. It takes a lot of thinking and weighing the pros and cons for him to make a decision but the partner’s opinion will be crucial nevertheless. In critical situations, he is perfectly oriented, but in a steady life? Not so much.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Cares enough to wash, dry, and iron his own uniform and brush up muddy toecaps of own boots. Tsukishima tries to blend in with surrounding, not to pop up, so he keeps his style in muted neutral colors (that applies to both clothes and shoes) and prefers strict uniform to anything else. In his view, moderation is the sister of style so the only thing that can make him pull off fancy apparel would be direct order from the First Lieutenant Tsurumi. Indifferent to how people perceive his physical appearance as well.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

If his partner decides it is a time to part the ways, he acts maturely, thanks them for the great moments that they shared and everything they achieved together. Even though Tsukishima is hurting, he keeps bitter reproaches to himself, knowing that lashing out won’t do anything good. It is not his style anyway. Few weeks need to pass by before the hurricane of emotions settles down and their image ceases to be associated with a romantic relationship. Instead, Tsukishima faces them again with a proposal to start everything from scratch. Leave everything behind and become friends. Just friends. No hard feelings. Honestly, being close to them is everything he asks for. If they decline, Tsukishima won’t bother them again, but if they agree, he won’t ever leave their side.

Their death is a punch to the gut. It is like Igogusa’s disappearing all over again, but more painful, more deliberate, more distinct. To say that he is heartbroken is to say nothing at all: division soldiers notice how gloomy their sergeant has become, they feel uneasy under his sharp look. It feels like one wrong word and he will snap. Now Tsukishima’s nihilism turns into total indifference to existence: he puts himself in danger just to see how long he can last.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Another one who has a great singing voice. He never ever sings in barracks or anywhere near his comrades but Tsukishima’s voice is charming: he has a sweet soothing bass-baritone that sounds the best in lullabies or ballads. Even though his partner may never hear a proper serenade, they may catch him quietly singing to their child instead of reading old fairytales.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Tsukishima can tolerate A LOT and turns blind eye to person’s bad habits for the sake of avoiding unnecessary stress. Therefore, there isn’t much that irritates him and even less that can drive him on the walls.

Grubbiness is one of the habits that Tsukishima cannot ignore. Clothes scattered around the room, unwashed dishes, and heaps of unnecessary junk get on his nerves but he keeps composure and never complains.

Loud noises, including chewing, smacking, munching, are annoying too but Koito’s constant monkey screeching desensitized him to the degree when Tsukishima takes a deep breath, prays to gods not to go apeshit, and goes on with his day.

Oh, he also hates summer. Hot temperatures force Tsukishima to soak in the bath three times more often than in winter or any other season.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Those bags under his eyes are Gucci Yoshida. Well, okay, Yoshida was established a little bit later but this is not so important. Tsukishima suffers from insomnia for who knows how long, and no doctor can help him. On sleepless nights, he just sits by the window and reads in the faint candlelight, still cherishing the hope of falling asleep in the morning. After moving in with his loved one, nothing really changed beside Tsukishima changing his habitual reading spot from armchair by the window to a more secluded place in another room. He doesn’t want to wake them up by accident.

In general, Tsukishima sleeps around 3-5 hours per day with occasional awakenings during the night. His sleep is shallow and filled with disturbing dreams in which shapeless shadows haunt him, driving him south of Mukden, where many of the Japanese brethren found eternal peace.

[thethousandyearwitch]

The Show Must Go On! Chap. 7

- A Youtuber AU you didn’t want and didn’t need -

Hisoka Morrow, italian Makeup Youtuber, enjoys his life in the comfort and occasional drama of his profession. But nothing brings more drama into his life than the eldest son of the Zoldyck fashion magazine empire.

Meanwhile, aspiring australian Twitch Streamer Gon Freecs forms a special bond to a Speedrunner commonly going by "Kil".

Chapter 7 “Montero” out now!

AO3 Link

What could be worse than taking care of a teenage boy who is developing a steady video game addiction?

There was a loud bang coming from the room above the kitchen, followed by laughter and cackling. The boys were in Gons room and tried their hardest to set up the sleeping cod. They refused help, naturally, convinced that they are just as capable, confidence heightened by being in each other’s presence, hyping each other up, and the consumption of their own body weight in burgers.

Another bang. A shriek. More laughter. Mito sighed so deeply that she feared a piece of her soul might have left her.

Taking care of TWO teenage boys who are developing a steady video game addiction.

Her phone vibrated with a new message. Gon had sent her a selfie of himself and Killua on the cot, which seemed to be standing securely. The boys were flexing their arm muscles (or lack thereof) with proud looks on their faces, and the only caption was “#success”. Well, at least they are having fun.

.

.

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Bellissimo<3: Good morning. I am going to pick you up at 1pm, be dressed by then, and pack your bag for tonight’s show. We are going for a brief detour.

Hisoka stretched out on his bed and squinted at the too-bright phone screen. It was 10 in the morning, though the rooms curtains were drawn shut tightly as a defence against harsh sunlight. A lazy smile spread on his lips.

Hisoka: Are we finally running away together to get married in Las Vegas? I thought you’d never ask~~❤️

Bellisssimo<3: I am trying to reward you for not getting arrested last night.

Bellissimo<3: Do not make me regret this.

Hisoka: I should avoid getting arrested more often ❤️

Bellissimo<3: 1pm Hisoka. See you then.

Hisoka let his phone drop back into pillow-mountain. This was certainly an interesting surprise, and an opportunity that the make up artist wasn’t going to waste. Getting One-on-One time with the Zoldyck was something precious and rare to him. Because Illumi was a rarity himself. In a world of increasingly bland and repetitive personalities, especially in his field of work, Illumi presented a challenge of raw potential. Cold and calculated to the masses, an obedient dog to his family, a revolutionary in his work. Hisoka knew that he must be hiding so much more, and the more walls he encountered with the man, the more he wanted to tear them down with his bare hands. Hisoka hated calling whatever this was a ‘Crush’. Sure, he was affectionate towards the other man, and at this point he couldn’t deny the pleasant twist of his heart whenever they touched. But he didn’t yearn for lazy Sundays in bed together, didn’t want the peaceful domesticity that seemed to be inherited in being a ‘couple’.

What do I want?

Hisoka pulled himself out of bed, and made his way to the shower, determined to abandon this pesky train of thought. There was no point in pondering the unlikely. Though… Illumi had been indulging him. And he was going to indulge him again this day. Maybe he wasn’t the only one getting soft, even if neither would ever admit it. The thought brought another satisfied smirk to his lips as he massaged his favourite shampoo into his scalp.

He wondered how Illumis family would react, hypothetically, if they were to end up a couple. The eldest son of the Zoldycks, not just gay, but in a relationship with a makeup artist who is famous for starting drama whenever possible. They certainly would be a more feared and adored couple than if Illumi were to marry some busty heiress who hooks up with her tennis coach when he’s away.

Silva Zoldyck would drop dead right on the spot if Hisoka would ask him if he should call him dad, he was sure.

He stepped out of the steamy shower and mustered his refreshed face in the mirror. Maybe that’s all he wanted. To form something with Illumi that would be even more powerful than the Zoldyck empire, to make everyone else envy/fear/adore them. They had the capacity and the ability to do so, no doubt.

Or maybe he just wanted to have something he wasn’t supposed to have.

Hisoka shrugged to himself, before he went over his usual beauty routine. Today could prove very interesting.

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12:45 pm, Hisoka leaned on his kitchen island, absentmindedly scrolled through social media to beat time. Illumi wasn’t going to be late, but he’s never been early either.

He decided to go with a casual look, fitted beige khakis, with an oxford blue button up, sleeves rolled up just above his elbows, debated with himself on how far unbuttoned would be appropriate-yet-slutty (Top 3 Buttons unbuttoned, was the conclusion). Under his eyes, rested on his cheekbones, he had painted his signature star and teardrop, eyebrows plucked to perfection, and after 10 tries he managed to get a satisfying cat eye done. It was perfectly normal to want to look like hell on wheels while meeting with your friend-partner-associate-crush-insertsatisfactoryterm.

The afternoons were always the worst time to check social media, the calm before the posting-storm that comes during the evening and night. Hisoka had already reached posts that were done last night, a few screenshots taken here and there for future reference and roasting purposes.

Almost fed up with endless scrolling, suddenly it appeared. Hisoka had followed a twitch streamer on twitter recently, some kid who was definitely going to screw up in some point of his career (they always do, when the fame gets to their heads), and didn’t want to miss that mess. “Foxbeargaming”, what the fuck is even a foxbear, he had thought.

He had seen the brat before, in his profile picture and clips of his streams. But that wasn’t the problem with the newly posted selfie.

The problem was that he also recognized the second brat in it. Remembered the way Illumi boasted about his talented little brother, the same wild hair and blue eyes as he showed him a picture of the kid. Killua Zoldyck is currently in the middle of nowhere Australia, and his family most likely doesn’t know about it.

Oh, this will be delicious.

Hisokas day had been upgraded from surprisingly interesting to extremely entertaining if everything were to go smoothly. Immediately revealing to Illumi before their date that his little brother is out in the desert trying to tame himself a boyfriend wouldn’t do either of them good. Let it simmer, let it fester, keep Illumi away from his phone the rest of the day.

Lost in his scheming, he just barely noticed that the clock hit 1pm. He grabbed his bag from the floor and stuffed his phone into his back pocket before he headed out the door.

Hisoka wasn’t sure what he expected, yet he was taken aback by the sight in front of him as he exited the apartment complex.

Illumi leaned leisurely against a black sports car, as if that were his only purpose in life. His sleek hair was tied into a neat ponytail, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. Hisoka let his eyes take in every detail of him. Peridot green jeans, fashionably washed out, paired with a simple grey polo shirt, the collar popped open just enough to reveal more neck than usual.

“Are you waiting on an invitation?” Illumi didn’t sound as agitated as he probably intended, giving Hisoka only more reason to push his luck.

“I was thinking about whether I want to pounce on you now or later.” He approached the other man, who in turn straightened up his posture in defence. But instead of any hostile movements, Hisoka simply took Illumis hand, and bought it to his lips for a caste kiss. “But I’d rather not spoil our date this early.”

Illumi pulled his hand away, though maybe with a second’s hesitation. “Not happening, also not a date. Get in the car before I change my mind.”

The car was equipped with fabric seats, which Hisoka was grateful for in the Italian heat. “Maybe I should film one of those Vlogs today, what do you think of the title ‘Partner takes me away for secret date’?”

“What about ‘Multimillionaire kicked me out of a speeding car’?”

“Touché.” Now Hisoka was sure that his companion had to be in a good mood, despite what he’d claim, he’d never go along with his jokes if he were feeling neutral-to-pissed otherwise. He rolled his shoulders back into the seat comfortably, golden eyes fixated on the way that Illumis elegant pale hands wrapped around the steering wheel. “I didn’t know you can drive, considering you always have someone to do it for you.”

“I prefer it over flying, and I still consider myself a better driver than half of our staff.”

“I’m sure you’re great at handling stick shift as well.”

“Of co-“Illumi pressed his lips together in sudden annoyance, he most definitely had caught onto Hisokas smirk as he waited for an answer. “That is repulsive.” That prompted the makeup artist to break out into self-satisfied snickering.

“No clue what you’re talking about, Tesoro.” This earned him an eye roll, and silence as the car made its way through mostly empty streets. Hisokas eyes fell onto Illumis phone that rested on the console of the car. “Ah, I’m sure mister multimillionaire has Spotify Premium, right? Let me turn on some music.”

“Use your own phone.”

“I ran out of data volume. Are you that afraid I’ll discover your disastrous music taste?” His teasing smirk was met with another, more defeated eyeroll and a sigh.

“Don’t play anything trashy. The passcode is 0707.” After a questioning silence, he added “It’s Killuas birthday.”

Hisoka replied with an appreciative purr, before he started scrolling through the others music library. No personal playlists, not even a profile picture attached to his account. He was almost offended at the man’s lack of care for something as deeply personal as ones Spotify account, something that surely could tell a lot about a person. “Tchaikovsky? I’m not sure if I am impressed or utterly bored. Oh-“ His eyes stopped on a familiar album cover. “Maybe you’re not a lost cause after all, dear.”

A button press later, and the familiar opening sounds to Tame Impalas “Currents” played. The faintest trace of a smile curled on Illumis lips, barely noticeable, but Hisoka wanted to burn it into his mind anyway. Never mind that he took the brief distraction to turn the others phone onto silent mode. No unnecessary distractions.

It took the rest of the album until Illumi pulled the car into the exit towards the nature reserve near Lago di Bracciano, the last notes of “New Person, Same old Mistakes” dying together with the engine as they parked.

Hisoka stretched at the warm sunlight that caressed his skin when he exited the vehicle. Birds sang happily in the trees that lined the path around the large lake, and the only other person in sight was an elderly woman walking a small white dog. As the second car door shut close, he turned around with a pleased smile that showed off his shining teeth. “I never took you for the kind to take afternoon strolls.”

His friend-or-whatever set a relaxed pace onto the path and looked out onto the deep blue water. “I can’t sit around the hotel room the entire day, can I? And Rome is crawling with sweaty tourists and noisy journalists.”

“So you wanted to get some quality time outside?” Hisoka absentmindedly ran his tongue over his own sharp incisors.

“Correct.” Illumi didn’t seem to notice, or at least ignored, the predatory gesture.

“With me.”

He missed a beat before a simple, “It seemed appropriate.”.

This earned him an appreciative purr, before the men walked in silence along the large lake. Italy still wouldn’t reach its heights of temperatures this time of year, but any breeze was still a welcomed change from the rising humidity and sting of the sun. Hisoka wondered how much the others pale skin would change if he’d expose himself for a bit longer to the sun, if he’d immediately burn up in red, or if he’d start to tan, even just the faintest bit. He’d definitely look more alive, less like a puppet on invisible strings.

They continued to walk in a comfortable silence next to each other, took in the different sounds and sights of nature and the others presence, until eventually they reached the border of one of the shore towns. Beautiful stone buildings climbed the side of a smaller hill, only interrupted by greenery sprouting up between them. The main path was lined with flower shops, cafes, and Gelateria, whose smells mixed into a pleasant sweetness in the air. But one store in particular stood out. It wasn’t super flashy, it could have been found in any city and any street, but Hisoka knew this one from memory.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the others hand, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

“Excuse me-“ Before he could free his hand, Hisoka intertwined their fingers and pulled him closer.

“Let me treat you to something as well, I promise you won’t regret it,amore.” As his flaming eyes were met with a wrinkled nose, the sunshades Illumi were as not-telling as his eyes, he added “If you do regret it, I’ll gladly let you drown me right here.”

There was hesitation as the other mans wrist twitched against his hold. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

The absence of a struggle was still taken as accepting whatever had gotten him so excited, and thus Illumi was quickly pulled and seated outside the small café. Hisokas attitude had changed from a lazy yet scheming happiness, to pure, unfiltered excitement. It became almost impossible for him to sit still, he rapidly tapped his fingernails against the small glass table, until a waitress (in her mid-40s, he assumed) stepped out. She handed the men a small, leather bound menu, though both were immediately snatched by Hisoka and held back towards her.

“Non sarà necessario. Ordineremo la Cheesecake alla fragola. Grazie.”

“Certamente.” The woman replied with a smile, before she retreated into the shop.

“Cheesecake?” Illumi asked with a raised eyebrow, he had taken off his sunglasses by now and placed them on the table.

Hisoka tutted, “Not any Cheesecake, dear, it is the best Cheesecake you will ever have. I will have it at my wedding, funeral, and every occasion in between that.”

“I take it you’ve been here before.”

“When I had just moved to Rieti, I’d come here almost every weekend, though I unfortunately stopped when weekends became workdays as well.” He considered carefully how much more he was willing to share about that time of his life with the other, though the decision was taken off him as the waitress approached with two plates, each adorned with a generous slice of cheesecake, topped with strawberry slices and strawberry jam dripping off it.

His jaw clenched in anticipation as he watched Illumi take the first bite of the cake, reminiscent of all the rituals he’d do for him whenever he visited. It felt degrading to admit that he wanted to impress and gain the approval of the Zoldyck, but not degrading enough to stop the attention seeking behaviour.

A bite. Some careful chewing. Averted eyes because Hisoka was staringbut he did not care. He swallowed.

Illumi didn’t look at him as he spoke, seemingly engrossed in studying the décor of the shop. But his eyes betrayed him, Hisoka swore he saw something within the dark orbs glisten and flash to life. He didn’t know people could smile only with their eyes, but Illumi continued to be different in the most intoxicating way. “It’s… really good.”

Hisoka tried hard not to pick up his train of thought from the morning, tried not to think about what he wanted from Illumi or a relationship, and he especially tried not to think about the growing urge to leap across the table at that very moment to kiss him until their lips were sore. Instead, he started to eat his own cake, and failed to supress his sharpened smile.

They ate mostly in silence, safe for Hisokas muffled crazed snickering, and ordered espresso to chase down the thick cake.

“Hey, let’s play a game. What is wrong with that woman over there?” Hisoka pointed at a blonde who rested against a railing near the lake.

Illumi seemed to consider for a second whether he even wanted to play a weird game like that, before he stopped mid espresso-sip. “Ah. Those red heels are obviously spray-painted on.”

“Bingo~! It’s super obvious, right? You can still see the black shine through.”

“I’m more concerned about the uneven stitching on her shirt. Either she did that herself, or she has gotten scammed.”

Somehow that conversation triggered them to analyse the fashion choices of every stranger they encountered on their way back to the car with increasingly devilish tones. Illumi Zoldyck was a surprisingly good gossiper, and Hisoka filed that fact into the growing corner of his brain that he reserved just for him.

In the car, Illumi informed him they would just head to his hotel room to get dressed for the show, and then head there together. Any attempt at a joke about spending hotel-room-time wisely was, expectedly, cut off.

.

.

.

Illumi had never focused on the road this much in his entire life. He tried to be grateful that they had managed to get ready for the show in his hotel room without any major incidents, but now Hisoka was seated next to him again, wearing the suit he made for him. He looked good, annoyingly so. Naturally, Illumi wouldn’t grant him the satisfaction of telling him that though. He had indulged the man plenty enough for that day already and was holding back from chastising himself for it.

Last night had made him soft, Illumi decided. A brief waver of confidence and self-preservation that made him want to spend one-on-one time with Hisoka, in what may have resembled friendship to an outsider.

But his head was clearer now, cleansed from whatever foolishness had overcome him – the image of his mother recovering from a coughing fit and regaining her composure crept itself into his mind. Unrelated, he thought, though cleared his throat regardless.

“Machi says the crowd tonight is dreadful. Do you think she is just saying that to keep me from going~?” Hisoka tapped his long nails against the screen of his phone. Machi was a model they both have worked with in the past, though she was no where close to a breakthrough. A pretty face, objectively spoken, though smaller than most models, and the personality of royalty about to be executed. Do they always text each other?

“She’s there as well today?” He tried not to sound bitter. He didn’t have a reason to be bitter.

“Mhm, she’s modelling for a friend of hers it seems, though all the examples she sent me looked like someone with a priest-kink designed them, so it doesn’t hurt as much that she didn’t hire me as her artist.”

A moment of silence. “I see.” Illumi was not going to indulge Hisoka even more by inquiring about the nature of his relationship to the woman. It did not concern him; it wasn’t relevant to him or his work.

“Illumi?” Hisoka leaned over in his seat, golden eyes piercing into the side of his face.

“Yes, Hisoka?” Just now he noticed that he had been clenching his jaw uncomfortably.

“Are you jealous of Machi?” He didn’t need to look to know that Hisoka was smiling from one ear to the other, voice dripping with joy. He wasn’t going to look at Hisoka.

“You are insane. Why would I be jealous of her? I pity the girl, still having to work as a favour for acquaintances.”

Predatory eyes continued to drill into him, and a dangerous purr escaped the man, “Is that so?”.

“Yes, don’t be ridiculous.” They pulled into the valet line.

“Then you surely won’t mind that she’ll meet us in the entrance hall, wonderful!”

Illumi shouldn’t mind. It should be perfectly fine that instead of spending the evening alone with Hisoka, a good-looking young woman with an unclear relationship to him would meet them. He definitely couldn’t be jealous; it would be irrational and yet-

He threw the keys to the car at the valet and grabbed the number-marker without a word. His face wouldn’t give it away to others, that he was practically fuming, but Hisoka seemed to take pleasure in the subtle way that Illumis facial features tightened. “I heard jealousy can give you wrinkles~” Hisoka whispered cheekily as they approached the venue entrance, rows of reporters and interviewers lined at the sides, even more so than at the opening day before.

“You must have a lot of experience with that.” He hissed in reply and straightened his posture as they passed the crowd, mostly reporters who desperately tried to take pictures of attendees. Pictures, Interviews, all loathsome cries for attention that Illumi has always tried to avoid as much as possible without damaging the families reputation. He looked down the carpeted entrance and spotted the young woman known as Machi Komacine, clothed in a painfully tight black dress adorned with rosaries draped around her waist like belts, her messy pink hair pulled into a high ponytail. Her posture signalled boredom, but her eyes screamed murder.

Illumi was not a man who easily feared anyone, especially not a woman who stands at 5’2 proud; But he also was not necessarily thrilled to approach her. As he tried to hiss something in Hisokas direction again, something about not having much time to chat with their acquaintance due to meeting a client, he noticed: The other man had stayed behind, and was now busy posing for numerous cameras. Their eyes met, and with a mischievous grin, Hisoka held his hand out to beckon Illumi closer. For Pictures. Together.

Take pictures with Hisoka together in a public appearance that will most definitely set the gears of the rumour mill in motion; Or approach Machi alone and run the risk of uncomfortable conversation about our respective relationships to Hisoka?

He looked back at Machi, whose eyes met his instantly with a raised eyebrow. Fucking Hell-

Illumi made his way back to Hisoka, casually disregarded the hand that was held out to him and positioned himself as practiced – left arm leisurely to the side, right arm three quarters across his front. Not too strict, but not too relaxed either. In contrast, Hisoka had his left hand in the pocket of his suit, his right hand rested on Illumis shoulder as if were the most natural thing in the world. Journalists started to yell even more for their attention now, asking pesky questions that he tried to ignore, telling them to stand closer to each other, the likes. He kept the façade of his neutral face through the blinding flashes intact, even as Hisoka snaked his arms from his shoulder around his waist. “Do you wish for a public execution?”

“It looks better for the pictures~”

Illumi brushed a few strands of hairs behind his shoulder and used the motion to glance back to where Machi was waiting, her steady gaze on the two of them. “It’s rude to let her wait.”

“How considerate you are!” Hisoka snickered. “I know you aren’t jealous, caro, but I’d still like to reassure you of something.”

“And what’s that?”

“Machi and I look for, how should I say, very different things in a partner.” He tugged at Illumi waist and pulled him closer. “She’s looking for women and I am not.”

“Oh.” Illumi continued to look at the reporters cooing for their attention, as he tried not to think of the warm hand on his waist that felt searing hot and- Wait.

“OH.” He turned in Hisokas hold to properly look at him, who in turned grinned like the cat that ate the canary, then he looked back to Machi, and suddenly he felt stupid, which he didn’t experience a lot.

“Feeling relieved, even though you definitely weren’t jealous?”

“I think they got enough pictures.”

Illumi heard Hisokas snickering trail behind him as he made his way down the entrance. Machis eyes met his again, hands steady on her hips. Up closer now, he could observe the details of her dress, white seams stitched into crucifixes that crept up the sides, and the number “3” painted on every bead of the rosaries. It was cleanly executed, but Illumi was confident in the superiority of his own work.

“Miss Komacine.” He extended his hand to her, which she shook half-heartedly.

“Illumi. I’d like to get to business talk right away, so I don’t have to look at this clown longer than necessary.”

“Business talk?”

The young woman lit a cigarette for herself and shot a glare to Hisoka. “I assume you didn’t tell him I wanted to speak with him?” This granted her only a shrug and a smile from the man. “Fine, whatever. Illumi, I want to model for your next line, it would proof beneficial for both of us.”

“I don’t deal in women’s fashion. Furthermore, I do not see how I’d gain benefits from having you work for me.” Finally, a topic he felt comfortable to speak about, even it was only to criticize the woman for her awful attempt at business.

“I don’t mind wearing a suit, you should be at least competent enough to make smaller sizes, right?” She stepped closer to push a sharp index finger against his chest. “And about those benefits; Having me model for you would give me more exposure from a mainstream crowd, and thus exposure for my group. You would gain exposure to a wider audience of underground fashion-following, that isn’t influenced by your family’s name, meaning you could manifest a name for yourself. Unless you prefer being ‘a Zoldyck’ forever.”

The nerve. The audacity. Illumi considered just calling her a presumptuous cunt and leaving with his pride intact, but Machi looked like the kind of woman who knew how to slice car tires and break-wires.

A manicured hand curled around his shoulder, and Hisoka pushed himself between Machi and him. “What could be better than this; My two favourite people in this world, getting along, talking friendly business. Unfortunately, dear Machi, there’s some people inside that are dying to meet us tonight, so we’ll catch you later~”

Before he could object, Illumi was pushed through the entrance of the venue. The large runway was occupied by a high-end brand that premiered their women’s gala collection, mood-lighting engulfed the rest of the room, rhythmic beats of low music drowned out most of the talking crowd.

“Be a darling and just let her offer simmer a little. Machi can be very scary when she’s mad, and not in the way I enjoy.” Hisoka purred closer to his ear.

“Did you know she was going to ask?”

“What if I did?”

A waiter offered them drinks on a tray, and Illumi leisurely grabbed a glass of champagne.

“What does that even mean, ‘a Zoldyck’, as if it is something bad.”

“Don’t wreck your pretty head over it, you know how women are.” Hisoka laughed, and Illumi wasn’t sure how serious he meant that, considering that personally he had no idea how women are, and after newest revelations, neither did Hisoka.

But through the course of the night, Illumi couldn’t get it out of his head. He pretended not to notice how people approached Hisoka, addressed him by his name, first or full name, and talked with him about the content he has created, complimented on his most recent videos and looks. And he pretended not to notice how people approached him, addressed him only by his last name, and asked about the family business. “Mr. Zoldyck, are you going to write an article about this line?” “Mr. Zoldyck, about the next issue-“ “Mr. Zoldyck, tell my greetings to your father.”

No word about his own collection he had premiered. No one even uttered his first name.

He was ‘a Zoldyck’. Nothing more, nothing less.

“If looks could kill, we’d be ankle deep in a blood bath by now.” Hisoka snaked an arm around Illumis waist again and rested his hand on the tip of his hip. The designer took a long sip of the bitter champagne, casually slapped away the offending hand, and kept his dark eyes fixed on the crowd. “Still pouting because Machi was being a bully?”

“I am not pouting.”

“And you weren’t jealous either, got it~”

An eye roll, followed by “I have a headache, what’s the time anyway?” Illumi tried to reach for his phone in his pocket, though before he could grab it, Hisoka took hold of his wrist. They locked eyes, and even in the dim lighting of the venue, Illumi saw something wild glisten in those amber eyes. “Let’s leave, together, to my place.”

“Very subtle, Hisoka. I am not going to-”

“Indulge me, Tesoro, I want to show you something.” Determined to blame it on the repulsive atmosphere that had build itself up at the fashion show, Illumi let himself be swept away by Hisoka for the second time that day. The thought of getting away from noisy reporters and cockroaches of the industry who only knew him as the eldest Zoldyck.- former Heir to the empire, was pleasant enough, yet he also didn’t have to be alone and actively think about his reputation, name, and being a ‘lapdog’, technically a win-win situation.

The drive back to the apartment was oddly quiet, despite Hisokas prior excitement. The car tore through the dark night primarily in silence, only accented by the ‘The Velvet Underground’ album they agreed on after scrolling through Hisokas bizarre Spotify library. It definitely wasn’t the kind of music he was used to from the home he was raised in, didn’t fit between the classical music his mother used to play before her headaches made it impossible and the obscene noise music that Killua would play to trigger the same headaches.

“Could you check my messages for me?”

Hisoka hummed in response and grabbed the phone, manicured nails tapping on the screen, before dropping it unceremoniously back into the cup-holders. “Batteries dead.”

“That can’t be, I charged it before I went out this morning, the battery is supposed to hold for a minimum of 72 hours when idle.”

“Your dainty British batteries sometimes give out under Italian heat, invest in better engineering, and charge it at my place for now.”

“…This will better be worth the trouble.”

The streets of Rieti were expectantly empty, and Illumi parked the car right in front of the apartment (Was it a legal parking spot? Unlikely. But parking fines barely matter when seemingly half the world knows your families name.)

The stairs, the door, the entrance, Illumi knew all of these things about Hisokas apartment. “What is there to show me?”

“Patience. Come here~” Hisoka opened the doors to the balcony, white drapes gently tossed in the fresh breeze. The Zoldyck followed- with sceptical hesitation, but followed nonetheless.

He rested his hands on the railing, eyes turned sky-wards, a few strands of hair upset by the wind.

“If you took me here to just look at the stars, I’m not sure which one of us is the bigger fool.”

“Right, if we wanted to look at soon-to-be dead stars, we could have stayed at the show. But we’re not here for them. They are insignificant, always there to look at until one day they vanish and are forgotten. The real star of the show is over there.” He pointed a long nail at the night sky, and Illumi tried to follow where it pointed.

“The moon? Really?”

“Close, but also mundane and boring. Here- “Before Illumi could react, the strange man had placed their heads next to each other and started to correct Illumis position with a pointed yet gentle grip on his chin. “Look straight ahead.”

Just a little bit off to the left of the moon shone a star brighter than anything else, for a moment Illumi felt ridiculous for missing it.

“It’s Venus. Among all these long dead stars, she’s ever present, stands out the most, and is a rare sight to behold.”

“You took me away from the show to gaze at other planets?” Illumi turned towards the other man, suddenly all too aware of how close they were standing once again.

“I took you away from the show because no one there is capable of understanding your true potential. The way everyone there only sees you as an extension of your family is so infuriating, that it makes me want to ruin all their hopeless little dreams right in front their pitiful faces.” With a swift movement Hisoka had pinned the designer against the railing of the balcony. “You could crush all these people under your heel and make them beg for forgiveness. And there’s nothing I’d rather see than that.”

“I don’t need to make anyone beg, if I want something, I get it. It’s always been like that.” A cold thumb traced the line of his sharp chin, followed by a dark chuckle, and all of a sudden Illumi felt fatigued, all air leaving his lungs. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembers his mother recalling symptoms like that. It’s a sickness, nothing more nothing less.

“You get it because you’re a pretty show dog held on a short leash by your family.”

Fucking lapdog. The weight on his chest feels like it could crush his organs any second.

“I’m not asking you to bite the hand that feeds you. But I’d give everything to see what you could do if you were free of restraints.”

Feeling like he needed to hold onto anything, Illumi grabbed onto the back of the other man’s head, fingers buried in wild hair. “And why would you care so much? If you’re just trying to rile me up, there’s ways that don’t make me want to throw you off the balcony and watch your mangled body struggle for life.”

“It’s because you fascinate me, Illumi. You’re my Venus in a sea of dying stars. I want to observe you in all your glory as you outshine everyone else, in your full potential.”

“Who says I won’t crush you as well?” His fingers grasped harder on a few strands of hair. Everything in his body felt wrong, the way his skin was freezing all over, but searing hot wherever he made contact with the other man, the suffocating weight on his chest increased by the second, and in the back of his mind something about sickness echoes again.

They locked eyes, and just then Illumi noticed how close they truly were, Hisokas hot breath falling onto his lips.

And he should have pushed him away.

Should have slapped him, insulted him like the sorry maggot he was.

But he felt weak and sick and so cold, and Hisoka radiated pure heat.

Their lips met, softer than expected of either of them, and Illumi wondered if this is what it feels like to be saved from drowning.

A pleasant warmth seeped into his body, and his lungs felt weightless, like he could breathe for the first time in his life.

Hisoka kissed like each touch might be the last, and Illumi let himself be guided as he wanted, eventually wrapping his arms around the others neck, eager to steal as much of this intoxicating heat as possible.

The man kissed along his jawline, stopping just barely below his ear. “Stay here tonight, cuore mio.”

And Illumi placed a kiss to his temple, as gentle as a man who was never been taught gentleness with people could manage. “Let’s go inside.”

[jadynrosetta]

Okay so I may have caught COVID (not sure I’m going to the doctor tomorrow) so to occupy my time I got a prime account and decided to FINALLY watch Promare.

This movie has been on my Watch List since I first heard of it, which was before 2020 started.  I just never got around to it, till I realized I was going to be stuck in my room to avoid people :(

So I watched it... twice.  I probably will watch it again cause it’s the only movie I bought and I am not buying anything else.  So here’s a little review and my thoughts about the movie.  (Spoilers ahead if you haven’t seen it)

So the plot I thought was very interesting.  For those who don’t know, the story starts with introducing “The Burnish”, a group of people who can create and control flames.  These people seemed to come out of nowhere and it started a whole movement for Burnish rights and it caused a lot of problems for society.  It ended, but The Burnish were labled as terrorists and do not have the same rights as humans.  (Harsh)

Our main character is a part of a group called the Burning Rescue.  Which is a group of fire fighters that deal with emergancy flames caused by The Burnish.

The team includes: Lucia, Varys, Remi, Aina, Ignis the leader, and Galo Thymos.

Now as I said, this himbo (Galo) is the main protagonist.  He’s a rookie in the Burning Rescue, and has a “Firey Spirit”.  He always goes off on some random speech and enjoys his job being a fire fighter and takes pride in saving people.  He keeps this mindset and energy throughout the whole movie.

He gets sent up a building to save people on the roof and meets a terrorist group called the Mad Burnish.  There aren’t many of them out now, but the top generals and the leader are still at large.  

(This was the first and only image I saw from this movie and I was so confused I had to see it... months later)

After a tense fight with the generals (Both noting that Galo is an idiot) he defeats them and takes on their leader.  The leader isn’t so easy to defeat, not backing down easily and even pinning Galo, but ultimetly he was taken down by the whole Burning Rescue squad.  Their leader is actually a very small young man who goes by the name of Lio Fotia.

(I specifically wanted this scene so I looked hard for it)

Lio, who was mistaken for a child, is shown to be one of the strongest Burnish alive and takes pride in it.  Wanting nothing but rights for his people and will never stop fighting for that.  

He’s actually a good foil to Galo for many reasons and why I like them being the protagonists for the story.  Galo is loud, over the top, and loves to show off his skills.  While Lio is more on the quiet side, and doesn’t really show off, more on the reserved side.

But the two are very alike.  Both feel the need to protect their people (Galo with humans and Lio with Burnish), but they don’t hate the other.  Galo wants Burnish rights while Lio vows to never kill humans.  They also share a god damn brain cell and 90% of the time neither of them have it.

So yeah, Galo gets a medal from his hero, Governer Kray, impressive prison break and all that.  We cut to Galo and Aina having a moment, which Galo realizes the Burnish had escaped prison.  He finds them in a cave and thus we learn more about the Burnish from their very leader, Lio, who remembers Galo, but Galo forgot him.

(Fire go pew)

Lio explains to Galo that the Burnish are people too, even showing how disgusted he is by Galo thinking otherwise (some very racist viewpoints).  There Galo witnesses the death of a Burnish, turning her to ash.  Lio explains to Galo that the Burnish can hear the flames, they speak to them, wanting to burn more.  He also learns that his hero, Kray, was using the Burnish for human experiments, and calls Galo an idiot and to believe what he wants.  Then the Burnish run away and leave Galo tied up...

Galo’s whole view changes on the Burnish and see that Kray is conducting human experiments on the Burnish, even though they’re people like them.  The reason being that the Earth is gonna become a dead planet and everything is going to shit.  So Kray is going to take 10,000 humans to another planet and use the Burnish as fuel.  (Fucked up).

Galo goes against this and gets arrested.  Meanwhile Lio and the other Burnish are found and taken as fuel, but Lio’s loyal generals get him to safety (much to Lio’s disagreement).

Lio goes into a full on rage and uses his full power to attack the city and Kray.  Telling him to free the Burnish, or watch the city burn.

He takes the form of a dragon and damn near destroys the whole city.  He almost succeeds too, getting to Kray.  But of course Galo cuts in and fights Lio in an effort to calm him down.  Aina decides to drop them off by the frozen lake to “cool off” and discover a lab under all the ice.

They meet Professor Deus, the man responsible for all the cooling gear.  He wanted to help the Burnish, but was killed by Kray for disagreeing with him and his viewpoints.  Deus, who is now a living computer, tells Galo, Lio, and Aina about the “Promare”,  A group of aliens from another dimension who connected with a human, Burnish.  However the Promare feel what their human host feels, even extreme pain.  If Kray’s plan succeeds, then the Earth is gonna blow up due to all the pain the Promare feel.

It’s up to Galo and Lio to stop Kray from his evil plans (cause they happened to be there) by piloting the Deus X Machina.  Later on the suit gets a name change, Lio de Galon.

A suit powered by a firefighter and a Burnish.  Both Galo and Lio work together to stop Kray.  Along with their allies they succeed in stopping the ship, but Kray was not finished.  He reveals himself to also be a Burnish, and kidnaps Lio, saying he was going to be the new core to the ship.  He then attacks Galo and sends him flying in flames.  But Galo was saved last minute by Lio’s flames, and now he plans to save Lio, with the help of his team, and goes into the core to save his new friend.

He makes it, stopping the ship a second time, and sees Lio is dying, turning to ash right before him.  Kray was ready to fight, but could not harm Galo due to Lio’s flame.  Galo punches Kray and says he’s gonna save Lio, stop the magma, and even save him.  Then we get the scene.  The scene.

The “Kiss of Life” some like to call it, or just CPR.  Either way, it’s a pretty romantic scene.  Galo brings Lio to life and the two have a new plan.  Save the Earth.  Lio says the Promare want to burn out, so with the help of Galo, and all the Burnish, they create Galo de Lion

This behemoth of a mech saves the Earth and everyone on it.  As well as burning out the Promare, sending them home.  The movie ends with everyone being okay and the end of the Burnish.  Thus the next plan, to clean up the mess they all made.  The End

Longer than I thought, sorry...  So what’s my thoughts?

Well let’s start with the animation.  It was done by Trigger (if it wasn’t obvious just by looking at it), and they go ALL out on it.  Everything is stylized and looks gorgeous.  The colors just pop out at you, nothing in this movie looks dull.  Action scenes are very fast pace and intense, and their calmer moments are beautiful and let you relax with the gorgeous scenery, everything is gorgeous in the movie.

The characers are pretty good, one complaint is that we don’t get to know some of them well, like some of the Burning Rescue.  We only get to know Aina out of the Burning Rescue team.  Plus a few other side characters, like the two Generals, Meis and Gueira, don’t get enough screentime, but I guess they weren’t the focus.

Galo and Lio, again, were really good main characters, who play off each other well.  They both open each other’s eyes and see things in a different light, especially Lio who showed Galo what the Burnish are really like.  They do tend to argue and seem to disagree, but they are an amazing team.  We see that when they pilot Lio de Galon and together create Galo de Lion.  I do believe they fell for one another in the end, but I cannot say it’s canon since I don’t know for sure.

Voice acting was also great. I watched it dub, don’t kill me, and I actually think the dub was better than the sub, and this is coming from someone who watches subs more and is very biased.  Billy Kametz played Galo well, just giving off so much energy and really selling his performance.  I’ve heard people not liking Johnny Yong Bosch playing Lio, but he was perfect for the role.  Enough sass and emotion for Lio, I don’t think anyone could have done it better.  Everyone else did a great job as well, Alyson Leigh Rosenfeld as Aina, Crispin Freeman as Kray, and Steven Blum as Ignis.  Just... everyone did amazing.

Do I need to say anything about the soundtrack?  It’s beautiful and I love every song in this movie, I am listening to is as I type this review.  From upbeat songs like Inferno, to the saddest like Ashes.  Each song that plays puts the whole scene together, music makes the scene after all.  Gallant Ones is the most memorable example (plays during the scene) and it really sets the mood on how the characters feel about one another.  Ashes is really good in my opinion since it plays during the death of a Burnish.  But they all are good, if you haven’t seen the movie and don’t plan on watching it, go listen to the soundtrack, it’s worth it.

Overall I adore this movie, it’s over the top and super entertaining, keeping my attention the whole time.  It has helped me relax during this pretty scary time for me ^^;  I highly recommend this movie.  It’s got way too many good points that I dare say it’s one of my favorites.  It sold me on the plot and I stayed for the great and entertaining characters.  If you haven’t seen it (which I would be surprised) then go check it out.  If you want to see the sub then it’s on Youtube, but if I sold you on the dub then it’s on Amazon Prime, (you’ll have to pay for both and I’m too lazy to find it for free).  

That’s all, thanks for reading my overly long review of this movie.

[enigma-im]

Kindle Unlimited Recommendation

Dark Planet Warriors Series

Warning: Gore, violence, some situation of wrongful touching

Summary:

8 stories. The series begins with a bug infestation on the mining station outside of earth. A species called Kordolians are there to be the exterminators. After a meeting with a strange human our primary story kicks off while the bug story plays in background in some stories while being the main focus for several books. The consistent story for the other 8 books is a romance between the aliens and humans that results in a war for purity.

Person thoughts:

Great fuckin series. Almost every book has a different couple with only the very first couple being the focus several other times. First book is fantastic, especially the first sex scene. Its so good. The next few focus on the bug infestation till its dealt with then it gets back to the war. Don't skip them though, Riker is a treat that deserves to be acknowledged. My favorite one of this amazing series is Infinity's Embrace. That book has some dope characters. Electric Heart is my least favorite because it's like a real bad Watch Dogs (video game).

Rating: 9/10

Books:

Dark Planet Warriors

Dark planet Falling

Into the Light

Out of Darkness

Forged in Shadow

Infinity's Embrace

Electric Heart

Brilliant Starlight

Office Alien Series

Warning: Awkwardness, drug use, kidnapping (kind of)

Summary:

Three books about an office relationship with three different aliens. Each alien goes through the venture of courting a human woman. All of them succeed on confusing then educating these people on their culture. All the aliens come from the same planet that has been ravaged by a tough alien species that try to wipe them out with their superior technology. That isn't a plot point, its just an explanation. Each story shows the struggles of cultural differences and how education and understanding can help make the world a better place.

Person thoughts:

I adore this series. One book in this series actually got a perfect score from me, which is strange cause I'm a tough grader. The first book has a super awkward lad who just seems to hate everyone. Its really cute and I like them both though their relationship is filled with cringe. The second book I didn't much care for. The main love dude was kind of an idiot and was too blinded by acceptance to be a reasonable thinking alien. Still decent but Its not my cup of tea. The last one- sweet jesus- was amazing. It has a ‘my cousin Vinny’ vibe with their relationship where they fight often but its like their form of foreplay. So good. There is another series that’s super short that takes place 1 year later for each story. Totally worth a read after you read the series.

Rating: 8/10

Books:

The E.T. Guy

The New Guy

The Security Guy

(Christmas special)

Kraving Khiva

Warning: Sex workers, forced prostitution, abuse

Summary:

Eve is a virgin who is fed up with it. After her father's death she has been ghosting by in life with her best friend. After said friend points out a brothel of some interesting aliens she decides to give the place a try to finally rid herself of her virginity. After just one night she keeps coming back, falling for the sex worker. Romance ensues with lots of strife and abuse to keep the two from their HEA.

Personal Thoughts:

Man, this story represents everything I love in a story. Tons of fluff. It was a really good slow burn that I didn’t expect from a story about a prostitute. The cover gives the illusion of a typical middle aged mother romance - which I guess it is- but it has so much more. I only had one problem with the story, the ending. I felt they could have given more information but they just glossed over it. Besides that, hot book. The second one is really boring, just a slice of life that I couldn't get into.

Rating: 9/10

Books:

Kraving Khiva

Prince of Firestone

The Queen's Ransom

Warning: Near death situations, a lot of near death situations, gore

Summary:

432 pages. Long book. Jalia enters into a competition to win a great prize. The interest of great fortune is too much for her to pass up. Little does she know the treachery the competition hides or the actual prize. The king of Minotaurs is hosting an event to test the strength, endurance, and intelligence of potential wives. In a culture that values strength they refuse to accept a queen who hasn't been tried. Genius Jalia goes through challenge after challenge, nearly dying about every chapter while catching the attention of a charming king.

Personal Thoughts:

I generally don't have the patience for long books but this one never dragged on. Every chapter was captivating and riveting. The challenges were interesting and Jalia's solutions were pretty genius. The relationship between the king and her is pretty grand, I adore them greatly. My only problem with the book is all the potty humor and insults. She was a genius but her insults left much to be desired. Once her biggest annoyance is no longer in the picture does that kind of stuff end.

Rating: 9/10

Book:

The Queen's Ransom

The Kraken

Warning: Gore, racism, attempts of suicide(only 1 book), sassy AI

Summary:

A mysterious creature has lived in the ocean long ago, since the beginning of the settlement on this planet. After a nearly drowning woman is saved a series kicks off. Each book has a different relationship of humans and Krakens. Every book tells the story of how the krakens go from living in isolation at the bottom of the ocean to breeding with humans.

Personal thoughts:

When I first read this story I was just getting into monster romance. The love interests have fairly human tops but hella tentacle bottoms. So I was a little off-put by it but as I read on I didn’t care. The first one is pretty good for a start. The second one was decent, I didn’t really care for it. I actually skipped the 3rd one my first go around. Which is fine, it doesn't add too much and its short. Its still worth a read. The 4th one, fucking grand. 5th one? My all time favorite of the series! If you don't want to read them all at least read the 5th one. Like ask me for story details and I'll give you a cliff note for what's mentioned in that story then you can read in peace. 6th was ok, love the sassy AI. I didn't read the 7th one. Its two old people and I just can't

Rating: 8/10

Books:

Treasure Abyss

Jewel of the Sea

Hunter of the Tide

Heart of the Deep

Rising from the Depth

Fallen from the Stars

Lover from the Waves

Escaping Wonderland

Warning: Sexual assault, gore, lots of sexual stuff

Summary:

Alice is wrongfully placed in a psych ward that specializes in simulation therapy. She is placed in a pod then taken to the world of wonderland. This twisted version of the children's classic introduces a rapey mad hater and manipulative Red King. The main love interest is a playful lad who has more control of the simulation than most. The two run from the clutches of the Red King while trying to escape the simulation.

Personal thoughts:

I had very low hopes for this story. I didn't expect it to be as good as it was. It was a twist on the beloved movie and book. Everything was rapey and creepy and I weirdly loved it. Of course nothing too terrible happened to the main lady so it made those situations more tolerable but only just. I adore the main dude, shadow. He was a playful little mischief maker and I would die for him. What made this book better for me was when everything hit the fan they didn't rid him of his sassy personality. Most books make the cocky, silly, playful personality as something that is bad and needs to change. This one they didn’t and kept it. So good.

Rating: 9/10

Books:

Escaping Wonderland

Infinity City

Warning: Abuse, gore, sexual assault, dope ass fighting

Summary:

A city where criminals are more in control than most people think. Each book takes the reader through different adventure of different people. All having the similarity of protecting the ones they love. The first is of an assassin protecting the only woman who has made him feel so strongly. The second is with a mob boss hacker who grows fond of a shy human. The third is the second in command of the mob boss hacker who finds a pregnant woman in a menagerie and discovers she is his mate. Fourth is one of the workers of the mob boss's security team who gets taken by some slavers along with a woman he was entertaining for the night.

Personal thoughts:

First book sucked. He was obsessives and pretty much took all her choices. It wasn't till the end that he was like "my bad, you can leave if you want". Bleh. Second book was fan-fucking-tastic. Arc is a charming idiot with an amazing backstory. I didn't like the girl in the beginning but she grew on me. I love that he focuses on her but still pays attention to work and his 'family'. The third was surprisingly good. I generally don't like stories where someone is pregnant because they get boring. This one was not that. She was never a hindrance or weak, she was a badass. With her big kitty man they made an amazing duo. Also any scenes with her man and the baby made me tear up. He was so sweet. Fourth was boring, it reminds me too much of a lot of other stories.

Rating: 8/10

Books:

Silent lucidity

Shielded hearts

Untamed Hunger

Savage Desire

------------------------------------------

While people watch TV or Youtube in their free time, I read. I have such a weird organization with everything i read because i tend to reread stories and forget i read them. the entire time i read it im like “have i read this before?”. so for books i write them down, rate them, then review them. i didn’t post the reviews here because it would be so many spoilers. Also i sort my favorite fanfics by fandom then relationship. i read so fucking much, its a problem at this point.

If you liked this recommendation drop a like, reblog, or reply. i will perhaps do another if you all like this. i have read so many books and i can post some decent ones and some god awful ones. perhaps you all can tell me how wrong my thoughts are on the ones i deem terrible. i think we will probably agree, ‘free’ books tend to have lower standards.

[sun-flower-children]

Hello Little One

Taehyung x male reader ( some jungkook x Taehyung )

supernatural au where y/n is taehyung’s guardian angel and tae is going through a hard time and really needs a friend. During the summer between their sophomore (11) and junior(12) years in high school. angst + fluff

The summer vacation began and the two best friends wanted to spend the first day together. Today's plan was to stay indoors but tomorrow they were going to do a ton of things outside. Nevertheless, they had games, snacks, and entertainment prepared for the day. This was also going to be a sleepover. It was still early in the morning, around nine when Taehyung was dropped off at Jungkook's house for their day. His mother helped him pull id bags out of the back, kissed him on the head, and left for work. To get up to Jungkook's huge house, one needed to first climb a set of stairs that were essentially cement blocks stuck into indents made in the hill. There was a specific one that would always trip Taehyung up. His backpack and duffel bag were considerably heavy, prepared with things for the two of them to do for the next five days, Taehyung was wobbling a bit already. Struggling to get up the stairs, that single block tripped him over. TAehyung felt the rush of wind and the weight of the luggage on his falling figure. He was just beginning to brace for impact when...nothing happened. Taehyung opened his eyes and saw that he was standing on the block that came after the wobbly one.

He sighed and continued, even though he specifically remembers never going up to step that block. This sort of thing wasn't new, but that didn't make Taehyung any less inquisitive. The first time this happened was in the first grade on his way to school. Taehyung was allowed to walk by himself because their home was not very far from the academic grounds. He was walking merrily when crossing the street, he tripped and fell. This normally would have been nothing but no one noticed due to the swarm of children crowding that specific walkway. The teacher on the other end ushered what she thought was all of the kids to the sidewalk when suddenly a huge truck at high speed started honking. She looked back at the road, and saw Taehyung, but didn't move for fear that some other child would run out to try and save time. She started yelling at him to move and run to her as fast as he could, but he was too focused on putting his toy back into his backpack. It happened so fast, the whoosh of the truck, the scream of women and children around the crosswalk, and the clang of metal. The teacher rushed to him to make sure that he was alright, and saw that not only was he alive, but he had gotten away with only one long scratch on his elbow. Taehyung who was laying down started babbling about an angle coming down to save him. No one believed him of course, so he told his grandmother. Naturally, she hugged him, kissed his head, and set him on her lap. She explained that yes, angels are real, and yes, Taehyung has an exceptionally strong guardian angel because of how kind and caring he is. The next day at school Taehyung would tell everyone that a big angel came down and saved him but all the other kids and teachers laughed, they didn't make fun of him, but they didn't believe him either.

Taehyung subconsciously rubbed his scar on his right elbow, a nervous habit of his. Finally making it up the last step, he knocked on the door. Jungkook's mother answered the door, happily welcoming him into the house. Taehyung heard the familiar thumping of feet running down the stairs to be tackled by the younger of the two. Laughing, they walked up to Jungkook's room and dropped all of his stuff into the corner of the room.

" What do you want to do first?"

" How about we roll for it?"

Jungkook rolled a six and Taehyung rolled a four, so Jungkook got to choose. He laid back onto his bed frame and scratched his head.

" Mom said we have to go outside at least, like, once so... let's go out now. Do you have cash on you?"

Taehyung nodded and ruffled through his duffel bag to reveal his wallet.

" You can take pictures of me, this one time. You know, for the gram."

Jungkook smiled and Taehyung followed suit. They changed into more stylish fits, prepped their bags and headed out. These two loved fashion and photography so they would help each other's Instagram's out. They weren't as fashion conscious as their upperclassman friend, Jung Hoseok, but they were good looking when they wanted to be. During the more stressful part of the school year, Jungkook and he would wear sweatpants but grab their fellow student's attention. They hung out downtown, going through stores and taking pictures of themselves or one another. They slowly made their way out of the busy shopping plazas and into the lounging part of town then into the large park. They sat down on a bench and talked about everything that best friends talk about. Identity, existentialism, sexuality, society, etc. They kept on talking until they realized it was six pm. They had easily spent fourteen hours together but the two always needed more. Both of them stood up and walked back to Jungkook's house. Somehow they had stumbled across the topic of sexuality. Taehyung came out to Jungkook freshman year as gay and made him promise to tell no one unless he said so.

" Jungkook do you think if I would go to hell even if everything else I did was good? "

Taehyung stopped walking and looked at Jungkook, awaiting his response. Jungkook had taken five more steps until he realized that his BFF was no longer next to him. Turning around he smiled.

" Taehyung, I am pretty sure you're God's favorite child by now. I don't think you would ever go to hell. Also, you are too pretty to be down there."

" You think I'm pretty?"

" I think you're lots of things Taehyung."

Jungkook couldn't help but blush a bit with his blurted comment, but seeing Taehyung smile again made it worth it. Taehyung jogged up to were Jungkook was and grabbed his hand, giving it a quick squeeze.

" I think you got it backward Kookie. You are the cute and pretty one of us too."

Jungkook's face was red at this point and couldn't make eye contact with Taehyung. They made it back home before it was absolutely dark and changed back into more comfortable clothes so they could seriously play some games. Taehyung brought his gaming laptop and he and Jungkook played Overwatch, Rainbow 6 and a few other games together until they realized that it was dark outside.

They opted for a movie and brought some snacks with them onto the couch. Naturally, they watched some horror movies and tried to scare the crap out of each other time and time again. They took a break from it and watched some epic gamer youtube videos of Pewdiepie playing Minecraft and they were inspired to play too. Literally, five minutes in and Taehyung was running away from zombies the best he could because he forgot to make a crafting table.

" Minecraft is scarier than It. You heard it first here kids."

Jungkook who had been lucky enough to make a bed was laughing at the mess that Taehyung was throwing himself in. They played for another twenty minutes when Jungkook remember that they had an ouija board in the basement. They came up with the brilliant plan of going down to the basement and talk to a spirit through the ouija board. Grabbing flashlights because the lights sometimes didn't work, the put on jackets and made their merry way down the stairs to the " basement". The word basement brings the image of a dark, cold, gray image to mind but because Jungkook's family was rich, their " basement" had hard work floors, proper furniture, a large television, and other things like a bar and billiards. It was another family room when guests came but the lights were too faulty for them to use it like that all the time. They sat down next to the couch and opened it up, placing everything exactly where the instructions said to put them. Placing their hands onto the moving piece, they waited and hoped that something would move it. And at the same time, they wish nothing would happen.

Just as that thought crossed both of their minds, the piece began moving. It began spelling nonsense, no real words or sentences were formed but then they saw that words came into meaning. What was before was probably another language and now it was becoming understandable. At first it was things like " How are you." and " When is it." that quickly changed to threats of " I will kill you when you sleep." and " You can't hide.". This was starting to really freak out the two of them so they let go and the piece still kept moving. Spelling out more and more dangerous threats the lights that were on now was off and their flashlights refused to work.

Panic ensued and as they were trying to find each other in the dark they each felt something new in the room. A new presence. There was something or someone else in there with them. They were not prepared to deal with a problem like this. Sure Jungkook joked about bringing holy water, but now he felt like maybe bringing it would not have been such a bad idea at all. Then they appeared. Those eyes. Like two dangerous orbs floating in the dark, they stared at Jungkook and Taehyung. Then it spoke. It's voice husky and in pain bringing upon fear and even more panic on the two of them. There was no language that they could guess because it was probably one of the monster's own. They felt the steps being taken before them, bring that entity closer and closer. The lights quickly turned on and the monster that it revealed was not what the two of them were picturing. It was the body of an old man but it was so torn apart the only thing left intact was the face. The eye sockets empty but for the two orbs, glowing in the cavern. It was like there was another body growing from inside what was that man. Bones and other things were moving underneath the skin and sprouting out to become a new arm or wing.

Just as it was ready to swing its arm at Taehyung, something bright entered the room. It was a glorious kind of light that radiated warmth and joy. Because of this light both Jungkook and Taehyung had to look away because of how brilliant it was. There was a scream, a most terrible and hair raising scream that had erupted out of the creature. Taehyung had to cover his ears and try to muffle that noise but it didn't help. Then the normal room light turned back on and the gleaming on dimmed. Teahyung rubbed his eyes to see what had happened. To both of their surprise, there was another otherworldly creature standing there. With beautiful (H/C) hair and shining (E/C) eyes that met Taehyung's stare with a smile. There in the middle of Jungkooks basement stood a creature they have never seen before, even in their fantasy games. They numerous wings of gold and strewn around them precious gems and the holy crown with a float around it's head also was adorned with the same stones. The garment it was wearing was a sort of robe with different beautifully woven sheer fabrics around its arms and waist. Its feet were not even touching the floor, levitating above the ground making it look even more ethereal that it already was. The skin of the creature glowed from underneath, a radiant healthy glow of love and happiness. There were bracelets rings on both of the hands adorned in gold and more rare jewels. Their presence was so very there because of their beauty and because of the height of them. Making it from the floor to the ceiling.

"Little one you know better than to play games like these. You never know what could possess these things."

The creature moved towards Taehyung and pet his hair. The creature smiled some more before addressing the other human in the room. Jungkook jumped when he saw the creature looking at him.

" U-um, sir? What are you? Are you going to hurt us?"

Jungkook couldn't help but ask. Taehyung was just standing there jaw dropped staring at this being that had entered his home somehow.

" My name is (Y/N) and I am a guardian angel. I have been assigned Kim Taehyung as a protector for life. And you are Jung Jungguk naturally."

" You're an angel? Like that's all real? oh, my g-"

Jungkook looked up at the angel again and gulped, realising that he needed to sit down. (Y/N) sat them both down and explained what had happened to them. Their game, on of the incredibly rare few, was actually possessed by a medium-tier demon who had contaminated the spirit of an old man that wandered the woods a few miles from that house peacefully. The demon saw the game as a chance to drain them of their life force to gain more strength in the mortal realm. As (Y/N) explained to them the entire ordeal, neither could process what was happening. They were basically being revealed the truth about the universe and there was no way that they could ever believe anything else after today. Taehyung raised his hand.

" Yes, little one?"

" Did you save me from the car accident when I was younger!", Taehyung yelled. He wanted to come across as confident but he was too intimidated by his guardian angel to say anything.

" Yes, I did. Something I had to fight for the right to do, but don't fear, it's past us now."

" Does that mean that you will have to explain this to um.. the Big Guy?"

(Y/N) laughed. It was more like the sound of silver twinkling bells with the dainty clinking of falling gems. The sweet noise was melodic and soothing to their ears. Jungkook, who was drained in every level, flopped down onto his back trying to grasp what is going on.

" Yes, sort of. I do not assume my physical form often and I do not need to see him speak to him. I am from a plane of being where time and scientific laws do not apply to us."

Taehyung gaped at (Y/N). This was the person that had saved his life numerous time and kept him safe.

" Oh, I almost forgot! I need to leave soon. If there is anything you need to ask, ask now."

(Y/N) stood up and glided a few paces in front of the couch. Turning around he knew that Jungkook had a question.

" No, guardian angels do not watch every single second but take note of what you do. Especially...the sort of thing humans your age begin to do. We generally look away. And, Yes Jungkook you have one as well. He is very caring and takes care of you well."

(Y/N) reached a handout and cupped Taehyung's face. Taehyung smiled feeling the somehow familiar warmth of his face. (Y/N) leaned over and kissed Taehyung on the nose. Before letting go there is one more thing you should know little one before I go." he whispered. Taehyung nodded waiting for the answer." Your grandmother wants you to know that she loves you very very much and that she is incredibly proud of everything you have done. She wishes she could be with you and help you grow into the gentlemen you will become. " Taehyung couldn't help but cry. He and his grandmother had shared a special connection and this message meant too much to him to keep inside. He just nodded again.

" Goodbye to the both of you. And may the father, the son and the holy spirit always be with you."

And in a flurry of gold and light, the sound of air wooshing past feathers, and the crack of lightning...(Y/N) was gone. They turned to each other with wide eyes.

" You saw that two right? I wasn't hallucinating."

" Like the angel? and everything? I can't believe this!"

It took a while for it to settle in but they took no time at all getting rid of the game and swearing to never do anything like that again. They ran back up to Jungkook's room and played some games. The pair of friends temporarily forgot about the demon and the angel while playing video games. After eating dinner and sitting at Jungkook's bed, Jungkook noticed something.

" Hey, Taehyung you have something on your nose?"

" Huh? What is it?"

" It's a mole! Did you have a mole on your nose before?"

"No I don't have one but...(Y/N) kissed me on my nose."

" You're joking. You have an angel mark on your nose! Ha!"

" Shut up!"

The two boys went back to playing games and enjoying their vacation, but they never forgot the night in the basement where they met an angel that saved their lives.

MASTERLIST

[bearpillowmonster]

KH: MOM Review (Gameplay)

Every Kingdom Hearts game feels different. It's always innovating and always adding new types of gameplay. This is no exception. Rhythm minigames are no stranger to the Kingdom Hearts series but a whole game based on it is new.

I don't play a lot of rhythm games but I have played the infamous Atlantica section in Kingdom Hearts 2 as well as the Symphony of Sorcery in Dream Drop Distance and the Ice Cream Beat of Birth By Sleep, Guitar Hero and I'll even throw in the Honeybee Inn rhythm game in FFVII Remake. Out of all of those, Atlantica has been my favorite, that's right, I actually didn't mind it.

Now this system is entirely different than any of those, at least to me. It's definitely the most complex though but just hold on because I know how the word 'complex' can be triggering for a game, I just mean in comparison to the others is all. It's not a DDR right, left, up or down. So without further ado...(Nonspoiler for this part, it’s just gameplay)

This game begins with a stage. You're thrown into it without any notice, there were things that I didn't grasp until near the end of the stage, luckily it doesn't count towards a score yet, and after it is the tutorial but that's just the opening so if you're clueless and want to be prepared, I would say to try out the demo, I didn't even realize how much it helped me until I played the actual game. 

I wanted to say at just how friendly this game is to newcomers, it's literally all laid out for you. Nomura came out with HD remasters and collections of the previous games then a recap of the franchise on YouTube then put it IN Kingdom Hearts 3 and people still complained because they don't know the story and are too lazy to play the other games. Now Nomura's packed it all into one whole game to sum it up, explained from the perspective of Kairi herself so that you're still entertained while catching up. If there was ever an easy path to get into Kingdom Hearts, this is the answer. If I hear complaining about it from this point forward, I will be pissed. Now, as you can see, I didn't make it to story yet but that's not entirely what I'm talking about. All the buttons and functions are the same as a regular game, you basically have it all but the different keyblades (well you can collect them but not use them because they're cards). You can play as casually as you want, a song here and there. There are even options for a shuffle and sort function if you want to just jump to track selection but you'll need to unlock them individually in World Tour first. This may sound complicated but that's where the clean and accessible the menu comes in, I have to give props for that.

You're on a set track, it runs on its own, does its own thing except when you're gliding which is just moving left and right to collect notes. You use the normal KH abilities to your advantage because some enemies will be high in the air so you need to jump and slash at the same time but you can't just button mash any more, there's timing involved now. Once you get used to the gameplay, it's quite enjoyable, you may even get a song that you hit every note, my first one was 'Another Side', the first try too, I didn't hit all excellent though.

How do party members work? Well let's say you have Sora, Donald, and Goofy in a party. You have 3 buttons you can press to attack, Sora's the only one that can jump and the only one that can use the reaction commands so you need to pay attention to all three because there could be enemies on the floor and in the sky at the same time. The one thing I will say is a little bit of a complaint and that's that it doesn't tell you which buttons to press except on specific stages, it just has the symbols, I guess that's what makes it more combat oriented but it's definitely different and a little bit harder. But I guess it gets to be muscle memory, after a while. If you already know the themes, it gets easier for you to manage because you focus more on what you hear and less on what you see, that's how I started getting better with timing. I experimented with pretty much everything I could think of so I tried it with low volume and found that I missed a whole lot more because I couldn't hear it, which might be obvious because it's a rhythm game, but it just goes to show how important sound is. I even tried using headphones, I suppose that's up to you, it definitely made the music clearer but my performance was about the same. 

What do songs net you other than progress? Well you get materials. Also similar to KHUX, you get crafting materials except these ones you can use for potions and stuff, I did a potionless run because I didn’t feel the need (but I also didn’t do it all proud either) but I used a few summons and item boosts just for fun. You can also craft cards, which are really just for looks to see in the Museum after you finish one of the memory dives (which I'll get into) but the way you get the cards, grinds my gears because it's gacha, you craft them and it's a surprise what you're going to get...so it's essentially a loot box that you don't pay money for?? What the-

(notice how it says KH2 or Days at the bottom, you don’t even know. Of course I have Writhing Shards rn but that’s because I beat the game and didn’t open a whole lot of keyblade cards but the memory and scene ones are the annoying ones for me)

You don't even have to "finish" the song, just get it most of the way before you die then you'll still get credit and still get a ranking, just no exp. Now, there are also stars, stars are from 'missions' for each stage, if you play KHUX, it’s kind of like how it says “get this amount of Lux” or “use this type of medal” or “don’t use continue” so most stars are just “get this many points” and you need to collect enough stars to get to the next area. With that, so long as you have enough stars, you don’t “have” to play every stage, just like regular Kingdom Hearts and skipping worlds, I did though, just for sport, except Let it Go, just for spite. I could see plenty of fans going after those A+++ Proud Performer 3-Star rankings, I can't wait to see the hype it generates, same with the co-op.  

They went all out when they didn't have to. The Museum is where everything is collected, so all the cards you collect and craft. You can also just play the song on its own without gameplay through the Museum, so if you want headphones to just chill, it's really nice. You can also play the cutscenes and memory dives on their own without the gameplay. There are "feats" or missions such as finishing a certain number of songs, like Nook Miles or the ones they had in Re:Mind. You can collect profile pictures for your co-op or versus account, mine is Simba (even though I don’t really use it). But the co-op can get pretty intense as you can “sabotage” each other, which seems similar to a Smash or Mario Kart match, adding that much more to the gameplay.

A few more complaints, one is that certain enemies from a stage, (say, the Wyverns) won't have the same attacks as the other stages, sometimes they'll have it so that you jump to hit them and sometimes they'll just have them take a normal hit without the jump so you can't memorize what each enemy requires (there are too many to really do that anyway). The other thing is more just opinion based, particular enemies such as Large Bodies tend to carry a weight so you need to hit them more than once even if its just one enemy. How it does this is that you hit it and then the enemy gets knocked back as your next note so you hit them again. There were definitely times where I struggled because I knew I was hitting the buttons but nothing was happening, I would guess timing was the problem in some of those cases but the indicators can be difficult to keep track of because it has to be “just right”. I think even just a line on the floor to tell when you’re supposed to hit would be a major help but in a way, I feel like that’s on purpose. Also, in the Museum, you can view all the cards EXCEPT the Keyblades which is pretty shotty if you ask me, what's the point in grinding to get my favorite Rumbling Rose, if I can't even look at it properly?

(also new names for some keyblades (this is a zoom-in))

There will be a lot of things happening at once which can be daunting, I do appreciate that they included the easy, standard, and proud modes though. Keep in mind, each of those are used for individual songs, not playthroughs so if you want to change, go ahead, at least as far as World Tour goes. On top of that, there are different modes that also gauge at how good you are (to use on the track selection). There's the basic mode which I already explained, then there's the one button mode which should be self explanatory, and then there's the performer mode which is quite a lot to put on your plate all at once because on top of normal gameplay, you're adding new buttons and things in the middle of your attacks, I would probably only recommend that after you've got a decent amount of experience because I tried it day 1 and it seems like you would need a good understanding of the game and to be on the same wavelength before even attempting it. You can view a playthrough of each stage called a "demo" which is the little play symbol button next to the "play" button, it shows you how you should be playing to get an A+++ rank and giving you a heads up of what's to come, all excellent all the time. On top of that, when I was playing Xenoblade, one thing I proposed was flicking the analog stick in a certain direction for each move, that’s present here in the form of bosses and memory dives but if you want it to, you can go into the menu to enable it for regular gameplay. You'll find out if you want it on the very first stage, again, I would only recommend it after a lot of experience.

Your characters level up but it mainly just has to do with HP so you don’t die so easily but at the same time, you have potions so I don’t see much of a point for normal gameplay. All three of the party members only have one health bar, so leveling does come in handy for the bosses. However, I don't understand how each party member has a different level, maybe it's just based on the amount of notes you hit with that character but it's kind of weird because I don't think it matters. Even on the team selection part of the play screen, it has one compilitive level so why would they be different on the menu?

For bosses, you only encounter a few. If it were me, I would've made one per game but it is what it is. You don't worry about jumping anymore, it's just holding the attack button down instead and the amount of "dodge" notes that you hit will work in your defense whenever the boss attacks. Once the dodge section is over, it actually tells you how you did with the dodging section. The first time I ever did it, it said "Oh No." it has a sense of humor, it took me a while to nail those ones you hold down which is odd because I rock the gliding sections most of the time. 

There's only one more type of gameplay type I can think of, memory dives. It's similar to a boss but you're flying and there's a scene playing in the background, also some of the directional notes will have doubles, so you need to point the analog stick in different directions which is as difficult as can be because you have to use BOTH analog sticks (took me forever just to figure that out). You 'mainly' gain the memory dives from crafting which is a bit odd but you unlock the recipes and items as you go through World Tour and then play them separately in Track Selection, until you get to KH3 at least. 

Keep in mind that I played the demo on both PS4 and Switch and compared the two, my performance was about the same, though I will say this. With Switch, you can take it on the go and just do a few levels here and there as well as remove the joy-cons. The thing about that is that I feel the need to shake the joy-cons but there's no function that uses that in the game, I really wish there was though. And those directional ‘slide’ notes have to be way easier on PlayStation because the analog sticks are right next to each other.

[ironforgedrp]

Hi! I'm a (hopefully) first time admin and I've got everything ready to go and set up but I'm really nervous that it won't get off the ground, and you guys have been open for so long do you have any tips for me how to make my RP be as successful as yours? It looks like such a good place, I hope it's not weird to ask this

        hi there friend,  thank-you so much for your compliments, and don’t stress… i’m happy to offer some advice, i’m no expert whatsoever but i’ve run a few roleplays over the past decade or so.    the key note firstly is to think of your RP as your kind of group ersatz family, as the admin you’re the head of that family.   you keep everyone on course, you’re the gatekeeper and it’s your standards that set the tone for what happens in your family’s house.  and i first want to tell you honestly that it is a little bit of a responsibility; you have to be willing to sort out problems, make decisions, mediate, diffuse and sometimes be on the receiving end of anon hate or the occasional jaded RPer, you have to be motivated and encouraging and dedicated -  but if you are, the people who you write and create with will give it back to you tenfold & it will never become a drag.    i hope this helps you a bit!

decide if you want a co-admin or you think you can handle it yourself - i personally have done solo-adminning, lead admin with moderators & co-adminned with up to four people. though i’ve found that, if you want to work with a team of mods/admins, having an odd number can be really helpful as you’re never tied.  also, if you decide to bring in a co-admin or moderator, have a clear idea of how you want to operate as a roleplay and what you expect of them as admins, and whether or not they have an equal say as you, the creator of the roleplay.  if they do, make that clear and if they don’t, make it clear what things you need to have a look over and what things they are able to handle alone (i.e. asks, applications, major plot changes).   honestly, the worst thing that can happen is if you’re not on the same page because it confuses you, them and your muns.

don’t jump the gun, patience is key.  if you’re hoping to have a long running roleplay then i would expect at least a month of work to be put into it before it’s trotted out, but it sounds like you’re already ready to go. make sure, before you open for activity, you have enough muns & characters to get the roleplay off to a healthy start and have the dash reasonably active.

set rules that are clear, but don’t be a dictator - make sure you have expressed clearly what your rules of conduct are (such as dash conduct, mun age restrictions [if any], activity standards, god-modding, banned/acceptable faceclaims, etc.)

set up an ads blog, and queue ads to post semi-regularly with varied but relevant tags and an eye-catching graphic &/or summary of your roleplay

set up a discord server or another way for your muns to communicate and plot OOC, it really helps muse and communication and also can be a fantastic way to build plots with existing characters and muns.  and, lets be honest, it’s nice to be able to chat with the folks you’re writing with.

check in with everyone! make sure your muns are comfortable and happy and no one is falling by the wayside or being left out. also, it’s nice to make sure that your muns are alright personally - by no means pry, but be an open ear if someone needs to talk. you’d be surprised how many in the RPC are often too shy or anxious to admit to an admin that they need time for their mental health, work, study, etc. but if you make it clear from the beginning that you actually do care and are willing to help work with people it makes all the difference.

the most important to me: build rapport!!!   the best thing for your roleplay, as an admin, is to do your absolute best to be approachable and have a relationship with your muns. you obviously don’t have to be best friends with everyone and talk every day, but believe me, what makes a roleplay last is the community you build behind it. i love having made such talented and varied friends in ironforged - we have voice chats and some of us facetime and/or text, we watch tv shows together and even help each other out with anything from personal problems to university assignments.  our community is  what helps us withstand all the trials and tribulations, and it’s what has given our roleplay such fantastic plot drops and progressions.  the main point is, from the get-go, make sure your muns know that your DMs are always open if they have questions, queries, rants, concerns, ideas… all of the above.

trigger warnings, which obviously depends on the genre you’re in but, i personally would suggest to offer your muns the ability to tell you what their triggers are privately and list them somewhere on the main blog for the other members to see.

embrace being an admin, and don’t get walked over. don’t forget that this is your roleplay, you created it and put the work in and no one (anon or not) can tell you how to run it. don’t be scared to call out people for breaking the rules, don’t be scared to issue warnings, don’t be scared to reject people if they haven’t read the rules or aren’t the right fit for your roleplay or make you uncomfortable, don’t be scared to say no.  it’s okay!

have open eyes, ears and mind; listen to feedback and concerns, hear out grievances and be willing to be polite even if people are being rude but don’t entertain pointless anon hate. speaking of anon hate… don’t turn off the anon ask option unless you honestly feel like it is the right route for you - it shuts off the ability for people to contact you whilst maintaining some anonymity and privacy, which can be discouraging.

crucial to any roleplay is the world-building, have a page with some key locations that are applicable to your roleplay (such as cafes, taverns, gyms, shops, housing locations), also i’ve honestly found that it helps setting the scene. consider where your roleplay is located (real place/fictional place) and make those details clear. paint the picture, immersion is a fantastic thing and it’s something both you and your muns can work on and collaborate on in the future. we have an inspo blog, pinterest boards, spotify playlists, youtube playlist, ambiance playlists, regional locations and business…. and a very colourful NPC list that has been collaborated and expanded upon throughout the life of ironforged.

have clear direction and at minimum a loose idea of where you want to go with your roleplay.  even if you don’t want to have a very plot driven roleplay (like ours is with plot drops, random events, character/mun interwoven plots - which requires a long-form type of roleplaying) and would rather have it open world (you set the scene, and everyone just goes with the flow - which can be both long or short form types of writing) - it is so important to have some tricks and surprises in your bag. the best and easiest is having a few muse-boosting tasks lined up, perhaps a group event to bring people together (a party, a fight, a ball, a wedding, etc.) otherwise, 8.5 times out of 10, you’ll find muse flatlining.  ask your muns! ask other rps! make a poll! hit up the RPC tags and roleplay helper blogs!

the finer details; pick a timezone to mark the roleplay with (eg; here i post in AEST on the roleplay because i am australian and it’s easy for me to queue and schedule things) but it’s crucial to ensure you include the timezone equivalent for other people in other timezones to be able to quickly understand (eg; AEST = GMT+10). you can always link an external timezone converter page if you’re unsure!

and, of course, be organised. make sure you have your pages set up and linked properly. the main that come to my mind to start off with are; navigation, plot, taken FCs, IC & OOC rules, a masterlist, blogroll/follow list, application/application page, application counts, ask & submit are open and an ooc page.

         and LASTLY,  this is my personal advice from one admin to another; if you really want a roleplay to work and you really want it to last for (hopefully) years, then you have to put some heart into it.  our roleplay, as a group, has seen some bad times and good times galore. we’ve had people become seriously ill, we’ve had engagements and weddings, graduations, a fair few birthdays, hospital trips/emergencies, international internships, personal problems, personal triumphs…  our communication as a roleplay isn’t always perfect, but we continue to do our best - and working on our communication is what allows us to keep going on through everything.

         also, as an admin, do your best to make sure you are not the most powerful character and not center of all the roleplays controversy, drama and plot drops (if applicable), it’s become a kiss of death cliche, and also can alienate potential muns because they feel like background players to your show.    but seriously, involve everyone and give a shout out for peoples interest, and the ideas that come flowing back from your muns will amaze you, trust me!

       best of luck!    admin tee.

[vixthefantheorist]

Is Anti the Shadow of the Egos pt. 2

Or an add on really. But an important one that I did touch on in my previous post - right here - that I didn’t go into detail yet. Or I was planning too but forgot the words at the time since I was writing that at like... midnight or something.

Anyway, the bit that I wanted to focus on now is this little tidbit.

Again its just theory I have. That Anti is/was a Shadow self of Jack but evolved into something more. Hell maybe Anti is the shadow of all the egos, absorbing their fears and darkness that they refuse to face… with the exception of Chase to a degree. Chase is a ball of negativity and acknowledges it, but likely refuses to face the reason of why or do anything about it; and Anti finds it funny or hell thinks of him as a battery to drain energy from. Who knows.

The reason I point that out is.. because it is true each ego has their own set of fears. Fears that Anti would be all to happy to latch onto and needle at them with. But the biggest fear they all collectively *share* - is the fear of being forgotten and replaced.

Which of course is a valid reason. Seán had stated before that all the egos are each their own person, not fragments of Jack or anything. At least in the Lore. But the thing is it doesn’t matter if they are or not. Every human in the world has their own fears. Spiders, darkness, oceans, etc. But again, the biggest fear nearly everyone has... is being forgotten and replaced. We are creatures that desire to be remembered in some shape or form. Thus, we leave behind pieces of ourselves in creativity. Art, music, literature, architecture and of course important points in history. We all want to be remembered.  

The thing is that Egos thrive and exist on the attention and memory of the creator and the community. If the community forgets, they exist to the creator. If the creator forgets but the community remembers, they exist to them. But if both forget... they vanish. Fade into nothing.  And that’s the problem. People are easily swayed by the next new thing, creators and community shift ideas often but as long as they love the creations, the Egos in this case, then they don’t need to worry for a while. But eventually they would fade like all things do.  Back on track, sorry, Egos fear being forgotten and/or replaced by whatever new thing pops up. Anti has that fear as well despite how he rants about attention, which is likely fear disguised as rage.Anyway, that is ONE fear they all share... even with Anti... perhaps that fear... one they know is there but do not want to think about... not want to face... is where Anti came from. 

Maybe. I don’t know for certain.

But if that is one fear that links them all together than its that one fear Anti is anchored to, his link to the egos, his way to possess them and interfere with any chances they try to use to rescue Jack or each other from his influence. A link that he uses to read their other fears, invade their dreams and twist them into nightmares. And a root to draw in their hidden negativity. 

Because, come on, we all know no one is innocent here. Each one has a skeleton in their closet and we don’t know those yet because we haven’t gotten to those points yet. But they do have a certain... anger to the community. Or at least I think so. After all, this is just my theory and observation, so take it with a grain salt.

Each ego may or may not have an bone to pick with the Community. Again, just *My* thoughts.  JJ: Hardly seen as anything but innocent with no real way to defend himself. Either he’s good or evil that’s all really anyone thinks of him. Nothing more than that.

Marvin: Again, good or evil, a magician with magic... nothing else. Much like JJ and gets pity. 

Henrik: No one really talks about his family troubles. Either he’s a good friend or a crack job doctor, but again no one really speaks about how his wife cheated on him and took his children away to run off with some tennis instructor.

Jackie: A loved superhero... that gets dumped extremely quickly for a new or better version of him. I mean there was that time that everyone started drawing Seán in spiderman outfits and Jackie was shoved into the backburner for a while. Then people started to change Jackie to be less Jackieboy Man to... JSE version of Spiderman.

Chase: Barely gets anything written or drawn of him with a happy ending. Everything is very depressing and people seem to not want to see that change. So... his life is constantly in a state of depression. And who decided that was his life until spoken otherwise? Seán - or Jack, depending on how you see it.

Again, these are just probabilities, and bits I of info I got from a couple of other theorists I spoke to in the JSE discord server, so its second hand knowledge and *NOT* 100% correct or accurate. (Kinda hard to with 22 + million fans running around) Everyone has their own ideas of the Egos, so this is *not* a blast at anyone. So please don’t think of it as such. 

Anyway, each Ego has a sore spot and a bit of anger they may not want to face and acknowledge out of fear. And as I said in the previous post, that negative emotions that are rejected break away into shadows. If this was a case of Anti being a shadow like the shadow selves from Persona. 

If Anti absorbs that, then he knows their darkness, their fears and can use it against them in various ways. To corrupt them to join him, to have them turn on the community and Jack. Or slowly drive them insane. Take your pick. 

Its like Anti is the major shadow in this show. Because if you remember Dr. Jacksepticeye, the one ‘ego’ that was trying to pass off as the good doctor and we all knew it was Henrik Von Schneeplestein that is our good doctor ego. We were all suspicious. And Henrik kicked in the door and wanted this person out of his chair and out of his spot as the doctor. That was fear. Henrik’s fear of being replaced by someone new... a shadow of himself in a way. And from then, we do not know what happened to Dr. Jack or Henrik.

And in Chase’s case, he was completely abandoned and forgotten by Stacy and the kids. Was it by choice? Who knows? Did she remarry? Who knows? But its hurting Chase deeply since he cannot for the life of him somehow get them to take him back or prove he is a good husband and father. Honestly, being the one with the most fleshed out story, we still don’t know much of Chase or his situation. Just that he’s depressed and lonely and struggling to move on. Jack and Henrik seemed to be helping him with that, until Anti drop kicked Jack into a coma and can’t talk to him as he used to.

Do you think Anti is a shadow of them? Or just a shadow of Jack but linked to their central fear of being replaced? Or an amalgamation of their fears but sentient and wants revenge? Or something else? I’m curious.

---------

Though there is another way to see Anti. Not really a Shadow to Jack or the egos... but a Shadow; a dark mirror to - 

Us. The community.

If you look at his behavior, its very similar to that of a community of fans, but in a negative light no one really wants to see or acknowledge.

Anti craves attention, very much like fans do when we crave attention from Seán, to get him to talk to us... *acknowledge us* as much as Anti wants acknowledgement. And if we don’t get it, we scream and rant... much like Anti.

We want control of the channel, to have him play this... or that... go here or there. Do this or that... like a puppet dancing for our entertainment. Exactly how Anti wishes control of others, making them cower and dance in fear for his entertainment.

Anti reflects how we are like a dark mirror. And I mean it, that we refuse to look at own darkness but we swoon and fawn over another's. We scream when we don't feel acknowledged or if the youtuber refuses to pay attention to what we want. Anti rants about acknowledgement.

Anti rages at not being paid attention to. Just as many fans of the community rage at not having anyone pay attention to what we do or make. 

We want something done our way. Anti wants things his way. 

We try at times to control something that wasn't ours... just as Anti does...

We yank on the strings to try to get what we want; then hate and threaten if we don't get it. And Anti does the same, hate and threaten the other Egos, Jack because he doesn’t get what he wants.

All fandoms have an ugly side that we often at times refuse to acknowledge exists. Perhaps Anti is our own Shadow... our mirror of ourselves as a community.

Now I say that, not out of arrogance or hate or anything. Hell no. I love this community, I love the people in it because I met people, completely strangers to me but all share the same love of the funny shit in Jacksepticeye. I get to geek out with them and come up with theories and AUs and all kids of fun things because of this community. I love Seán as friend I never met and the content he provides because it brightens my days. But I do acknowledge there is a darker side to all fandoms. We all know it and we all try to ignore it for good reasons.

I just wanted to point this out as a possibility, not a bash to the community or any side. Anti was created by the fans, by US, the community, and should be cherished as something fun. And that’s what it is. Anti is fun, I just really think it would blow my mind if Anti was a fun dark reflection to the community as a way to be linked to the story, the Lore that Seán is making.

Also remember the Lore he’s making isn’t a set in stone story that we all have to abide in writing or drawing the egos. Its just a story he wanted to do for and with us. He even stated himself that He has his own ideas of what Anti is, but its not included in the Lore to keep Anti flexible and fun for everyone to still come up with their own designs and origins of Anti.

But how is that? What do you think? Is Anti a dark reflection of our own darkness~?

[hanzi83]

Probably the Longest Blog You Will Ever Read.. fuck it. Very Necessary Tho

Since I have not been constantly writing down my thoughts other than the occasional blog, that never seems to get any type of feedback, probably because no one is paying attention other than a few dedicated trolls, who I presume have been sent to fuck with my mental health, even if it is not true, the illusion of trying to implement some kind of devastating fear, and every time I decide to write a blog that expresses what is transpiring in my mind, it is met with no acknowledgement, and when it is acknowledged, it is the cult like trolls who will convert it to audio, so people will not bother to give me a click on where it is posted. I don’t know where this blog will particularly go since I never plan these out, and just write from the heart, and my will has not been into jotting down my thoughts, I still have point form notes on my phone dating back to last June about experiences and topics that have transpired, but for the most part it has mainly been me explaining how I think it is organized and wondering where it is all leading because it has meaning symbolically and how the seeds are planted, it has become clear since I stopped writing stuff down daily to get the frustration out of my system, that I have become exhausted mentally and can barely retain anything, whether it is reciting why capitalism is bad or if it means memorizing a movie or television show reference, mixed with how now to watch this entertainment that I have to read on the discourse about something not being woke enough, or if it something seems woke, then it just people pushing agendas, and then lesser known people expressing the fake wokeness that exists, and I just realize I am too stupid for this world so I just remain in the wrestling bubble, just like I began last decade.

I need to set this up because I am trying to think rationally as I write but I know in the middle of this blog, it will probably fall apart but it is a good thing that most people don’t take me serious, and I am not really on the masses radar, even though important people are constantly on the lookout for me, that is why my broadcasts on periscope are interrupted, my social media posts are practically shadow banned, my facebook lives are not giving out people notifications, so clearly they are trying to censor me, and it shows this is real censorship, not the marketing tool censorship where the masses are aware of the censorship at hand.

I have been writing blogs on a certain person on youtube, who has become completely unhinged, and then a group of people on the application periscope, that I feel have felt they did not get all of their use from me, so now are trying to align with people who have been waiting for anyone to have a mutual distaste, and what is weird is that I am this irrational and irrelevant mentally ill person they dismiss as just some delusional caller but these same people need to try to destroy any good that I try to create and try to bring me down so badly that I lash out with irrational anger that makes me want to go back to my ignorant ways after years of trying to deprogram myself since I was dumbed down majority of my life and fell for the ignorance, and because mental illness to the mainstream is just described as someone being sad, and not the fact that there are darker elements in mental illness people will not want to discuss, but rather they ignore it so when someone else is having a legit mental breakdown, they will pile on them all the while maintaining the “woke” points for addressing the stigma of mental illness, even if it means it is presented in such a limited way,

My trolls also realize that I have not been writing lately so they figure it will be easier for me to snap since they know I am not getting my thoughts out and the plan is for me to be piled on mentally so much, in such a pseudo intellectual way, that I will just snap and lose my mind and then the people paid to harass me can take the audio of me losing my mind and saying some hurtful shit to people encouraging a mentally ill person to go kill himself, and constantly hint that I will be targeted. It feels this aggressive trolling has begun on periscope when I was discussing these Howard Stern leaks, and it feels like we are at the precipice of Howard finally getting canceled because his past will come back to haunt him, so the person that will be of interest to people in the media might be me, and before that could happen these people need me out of the way. If my theories are correct, then these people could probably be sacrificed when they strike down on Howard’s image.

One of the other problems was that when I initially broadcasted on periscope, I would not really follow anyone and just broadcast while promoting it on twitter. Last summer, I got suspended on facebook and twitter and I decided to browse the app and see what kind of people are there. There were plethora of characters etc that existed and I have tried to become friendly with people, a lot of sex workers, musicians, gimmick personalities etc. It seems friendly but also if you browse by the random broadcasts you will see thumbnails of people I perceive to be young and I have to report because I feel people running periscope allow some type of exploitation on there that is truly disgusting,  but overall it has been kind of a positive experience, and I am so full of low self esteem I have to constantly name drop I was part of an institution to present myself to stand out but also interview different walks of life and get some good discussions going on, and also because I feel Howard has a stake in periscope, again it is my theory I name drop to see if people who are there are kind of answer to him since I feel the elite use these apps to sell people, but I could be wrong but if I am wrong at least I make a friend out of it. It feels like people also get sent to me, and since I don’t have the resources to do background checks on people, I always wonder if the system is sending people who are not good people to be associated with me, so it damages my reputation further. Even when I talk to people on there, I have to ask their age because if they are not over 18 I have to dismiss them from talking to them because I don’t like talking about the content I talk about in front of people who are not of age, even though I can control who comes into my broadcasts and don’t interact.

 So before I get accused of setting a narrative and speaking out like it is fact, I have to preface this by saying whatever I have written on here has been just my opinion, when I do my videos, I express my opinions and I might vent out of frustration because if I  don’t express myself I will probably end up harming myself and I don’t want to do that and since I do feel bad and get to reflect when I say some evil shit when being pushed by people, others just want to cross the line and then pretend they never did anything negative while pointing out all my flaws. So I don’t know where to go with this because I am not intelligent enough to deal with the nuances of good storytelling, or maybe I am just underselling it.

This lady came to my scope last summer after people who have been trying to troll me for years were in there and immediately I did not take her seriously because she was presenting herself as an alien and she would full of mystery all while having this soothing voice. I always have my guard up and I do want good content, as long as the people in my periscope are willing to come up and talk etc. I am creating content, and hopefully I can try to move on to a podcast, but there are a lot of people who somehow have some investment in me without knowing and if I don’t move on their watch, they will then start showing their true selves eventually. I entertained this lady’s presence for a while but then when someone from her past came onto my panel when they called into my periscope, that alien schtick went down the tube and I laughed because as a wrestling fan it would be like if the Undertaker was confronted by someone in real life and then him immediately dropping the Dead Man character and freaked out. I was not aware of the drama scopers on this app, because apparently a lot of doxing goes on and organized harassment, basically what I have predicted in my own life, but I am kind of watching it play out to others and it is just completely fucked up.

There was another nice man I met on scope who I gelled well with when discussing stuff and even though we did not agree, he clearly has some resources and his full of encouragement when people want to go for their dreams and if he is cool with you he will help you out but because I was suspect of this alien lady who would not ever address any of my questions for her, and I did not want to talk to her in private because apparently she belongs to some former patriot groups, and when I hear that I can only imagine these can’t be good. It is one thing to have a conversation with someone who might not be politically correct, but I have learned some people who lean right are not as bad and are anti imperialistic, while others are just defensive of anything criticizing Trump. I feel with these conversations I am able to at least talk to someone who I don’t agree with politically and get them to deprogram themselves from the ignorant propaganda, the same shit I used to kind of fall for. This woman does not seem like a Trump supporter but she is an enigma because she will play the Jewish card but still associate with people who have been fucking with me and bothering me to join their podcast network, and these people are insanely racist and bigoted. This lady puts it all on me when she comes into my scopes, and her supposed harassers come in, and because some of them seem like they could be dangerous, I try not to rock the boat with more enemies, but as far as I know they have been nice to me, but then again my trolls do the same thing where they endear themselves to people I try to make friends with and when I flip out they will claim I am the one bothering them. I just kind of wish she would have stayed out of my lives, I even blocked her because she was becoming a disturbance in my sessions, but the nice guy I became friends with would always kind of vouch for her and I did not understand why. The only thing I could come up with, is the typical “Are these 2 fucking?” because I don’t understand how you could just know someone for a month or so and suddenly just become these great friends, I did eventually unblock her and tolerated her but she would kind of want me to have conviction in protecting her when I don’t even know her like that because she has not presented any proof of this happening

The fucked up thing is she claims to be someone that just observes but she is following all the trolls who have been following me nonstop, and these people have become extra aggressive since making new friends on this app, like they are lashing out about me not paying attention to them and having people of color on my panel since I did not know that there were so many black and brown people on the app. They then start saying I am so anti white because I rail against a white supremacist system and then they discredit me with rumors of me beating up a gay couple, or beating my mother. They create accounts where they take pictures of me and blacken it because they think I want to be black. They are doing deep fakes of me talking, and then leaving suspicious messages instilling fear about me being kidnapped and killed. They have a sub reddit dedicated to me, and then when I become rational enough to analyze their mental illness, because if I am so irrelevant and useless and such a drain on society, then why wouldn’t you do something better with their lives? The answer is they can’t, because as useless as I have been, these people are even more useless for the last several years and clearly need to latch onto me to exist, and because people end up having problems with me they all connect because of their mutual hatred for me, but the truth is none of them are interesting without me and they lack creativity.

The alien chick and the supposed innocent dude would be in these scopes with these people witnessing my meltdowns on the Stern Show and apparently questioning them is a big no-no so I assume they get the advice of these trolls who study me that if they are nice enough and I don’t fall for it, it can be easily pushed against me that this is what happens and this is why I was kicked off the Howard Stern Show. They try to be like Howard and Robin and try to dismantle your psyche. I did not trust this lady and I felt like the dude I was cool with was just going to take her side regardless and because I feel like she is hanging out with my trolls, and I figured she was recruiting me for some kind of cult or wanted to capitalize of any value I have so they could get some clout, even though I barely have it on the surface. I am going all over the map and kind of leaving some details out but overall these people she claims were bothering her came into my scope, but according to this innocent nice dude, these are legit gripes, and I am supposed to have some kind of conviction, but not them because they are associating with people who have made my life hell, and they dismiss my claims even though there is a legit thread I have made on twitter on my pinned tweets where you can see the supposed threats made to me.

So the innocent dude eventually blocks me because I had the gall to get mad that I was not trusting him because he was in this dude’s scope who is harassing me, I got tired of periscope so I started doing facebook lives, and then the cult of trolls would fuck with that too by people not getting notifications and there would not be many there and I was so set out on doing it with low views for the principal, because I know when you are supposed to be popping, you will have a plethora of views, and when they punish you they dumb them down, but either way it is all organized. I eventually go back to periscope in December, and the alien lady has choice words for me because that innocent dude had “helped” me and he did but there was something they weren’t telling me, like there was some hidden investment with me, and it set their plans back by me leaving periscope for a bit. She would give me more attitude, and honestly I would have preferred to speak to the dude, instead of this chick who I feel has brainwashed this dude. That is the way I see it, they will probably read this and get mad that I am presenting it as fact, but a lot of the videos are on my facebook public page and there have been a lot of witnesses who can attest that I am presenting the events truthfully mixed with me presenting my theories, whether they are valid to you or not, depending on how low the totem pole I am in social media.  

(Blog continued 2 days after)

Now I have been out of practice from writing since I used to do it consistently in my life since 2007, and felt I had to make up for the anger I had years before, and I had a lot of deprogramming to do, it went from writing in notebooks and barely understanding what I was writing, or that I would have to write on my computer so I could read it back and maybe sustain some material for it so I could write a book of my irrational thoughts, but I scare myself with the anger I had and how my opinions would differ often and barely being able to retain shit, so sometimes I felt I would guess people were watching me and monitoring my computer so I would suspect different people and write things to test anyone and see what would prompt them to move my mouse so I know their presence is lurking digitally in some hacker like way.

Anyways, writing a blog has even drained me and I felt I was not aligning the stories well because I have been used to just talking more often on my platform than writing. I had to take a break from it and since the developments are breaking every single day I had to hold off and debate if I wanted to write a blog because it will seen as some act of social media war that will further encourage more harassment, that most people who have power and set the narratives can use to their advantage to further make me feel like a useless piece of shit, more so than already. If I vent, I am supposedly doing the woe is me gimmick, and constantly feeling sorry for myself, because I don’t want to hold in my irrational feelings or I will snap and maybe that is the wave right now.

So I did not bother to know where I left out because I am too lazy to read it so I will try to pick it up from where I left off and there is a good chance that I might repeat the same shit but at least if you are going to read this, I at least came up with an interesting angle of how to write a shitty blog that people will pretend does not exist, or maybe they just don’t know and I have to act like I am this important person being spied on.

I think it was from the time that I got blocked by this one guy from periscope, while he defends the alien lady. I know I should present names but if you been following it you already know the names, but I need to express this and I don’t want to be accused of putting their name out there and seeing as lying on their names, when I have explained ad nauseam that these are my theories, and no one ever listens to what I say and by people being scared people might believe me, it will contradict the whole thing of me being irrelevant and that maybe beneath the surface more people care about what I think.

I just feel when I took a break from periscope because I did not want to deal with more betrayal, at least from my perspective, do these trolls actually wish me harm or are they just testing me and toughening me up mentally and putting me through some shit, or these people are aligning with trolls who have tried to drive me insane by spreading rumors of me hitting my mother, or beating up a gay couple etc, and they put out misleading titles of what my periscope is about so when people do search my name, they will get these negative and untruthful shit at the top of google etc. That was my beef with these new people who wanted to be friends with me, but it seems like I am only supposed to take their safety seriously yet they will be following my trolls who have constantly pushed me to the brink of insanity and make me want to say some irrational shit that I will regret, because the system is so against me, if I irrationally talk shit and tell someone to do something horrible to themselves, they will suspend me. They push me to that so they can twist it into me being seen as threatening

I don’t know if the trolls have been aligned with these people from the beginning or do people approach anyone I make friends with and when I try to create some content with interesting discussion. The trolls hate me for not acknowledging them as much and because I have different people of different races/ethnicities/nationalities on and they spread this shit of me hating white people even though I talk about the systemic corruption and the grander white supremacy that exists on a pseudo intellectual type of way.

I took a month away from periscope, so my facebook lives would suffer when I would do decent numbers prior and suddenly I would be lucky if I would get 5 people in there but out of principle I would still do it and it would anger the trolls even more, because even though I was not broadcasting I was still being a guest on people’s periscope. They got it banned and I had to write a repeal on it and they gave it back. So it was like a test. I don’t know who helped do this but I eventually came back, and this time instead of dealing with the constant disturbance I would just block these trolls and not unblock them, because when I did, they would say I want the drama and want them to come in so when I become strict with it I then angered them even more and they will keep leaving cryptic messages on different troll accounts about them going to execute MK Ultra on me, or that they will kidnap me and that they are continuously watching me and monitoring me and showing so by knowing when I have therapy appointments etc.

It felt like this dude I met on periscope who really helped me for a bit, and this alien lady really wanted to teach me a lesson and maybe fuck with my head but overtly finding all the trolls, when there are people I roll with who have discussions with people who might seem more conservative, and I will have discussions and not budge from my point of view while still having the discussion, and some people I can get through but some have their minds made up on believing Trump is actually anti establishment and I can’t deal with it. So there was these 2 black dudes I have conversations with and enjoy their scopes, but they are constantly getting harassed by a lot of white people or people with Zionist leaning ideals and harass black people for not wanting to give them the time of day and think they are entitled to these people’s time. So when one of the guys lost account after account for defending himself, he had a enough and I shared his scope, because when he comes back with a new account I share it so more people can see it but the guy had a periscope saying “Jew Jokes’ not the best title, but he was trying to get at these Zionists fucking with him, and he even cleared it up that he is just doing that for that purpose, because he was pissed, the other guy, who loses account after account, wanted to troll with someone black in Nazi fatigue, and I expressed concern with it and he was just so pissed about being banned and I had to approach him privately and explain that even though I know what he is doing it is wrong to do it because it feels like you are cosigning some white supremacist shit, and it that people try to discredit black people a lot, that it gives the Zionist more ammo because ultimately it won’t matter if they did racist shit first, it will be all put on the black dudes. So this alien lady, who often tells me that the people harassing her are anti Semites, and I don’t hang around them enough to know, they only come in when the alien lady comes on my scope, and I am expected to just block them, when she won’t even unfollow  the trolls harassing me. She starts this campaign that I am hanging out with anti Semites and she seems to dismiss what others are going through, while she is hanging out with anti Muslim type of people who also say anti Semitic shit and actual real generalizations. That is why I hate generalizations and specify Zionism, even though they are starting to say that Zionism and Jewish is the same. The guy I talked to privately was thankful for my advice, because he was so irrationally angry he wanted to do something to upset them, because he is constantly being called the N word and having money taken off his table by getting his broadcasts suspended and making people rebuild.

So this is when I was like I had enough of this shit because it hurt me to know this dude I met on periscope who became friends with will defend this chick for some reason. Why does she get to follow all these people who are often anti Black and anti Muslim? I don’t even know where this is going but if these people are aligning with my trolls, and they are actually trying to do harm to me, because they want me on their playing field where all my trolls are, and think I am using them for entertainment on my platform, which is what the app is for, but when something organic is to be discussed I don’t mind that, but they wanted me in their platform because it supposedly was not for entertainment while all these people in there are guilty of putting fear and severe paranoia in me.

The trolls will constantly try to pretend they turned a new leaf and that they are done harassing me but will still have sub reddits trying to dox me, or mislead with the titles to paint me in a bad light, and the stuff they claim I am saying that is fucked up when I am angry is what made them fans of me on the Stern Show, while probably being associated with people like that dude Jimmernam, who has probably been behind the attacks as well.

Jimmernam has become much more unhinged and he has started to fucking with the True Crime community because everything else has fallen apart and since he pissed off his old crew so much and has done so much fucking damage in people’s lives, wherever he goes to endear himself and then destroy it because that is what he does, he has done it to some poor woman named Limonade. I was done after the summer where I wrote the blog and believing that there are lies about him being a child groomer, and how he has changed from the old guy, but he has that venom in him and he is still full of lies. He hates me for not cosigning his show the first time and not believing his sob story and how he tried to use Wendy to gain sympathy, and then people expected that she was taking her donations to give to him, and he would play dumb about giving it back and change the topic. He even caused a beef with me and that Ross Dawg guy, because he knew I was protective of Wendy so he would get her to say different people are bothering her so I would be insanely angry about it, and it almost started something ugly because even though I don’t like the general way Stern has trained the public to talk to Wendy, I have to understand she is used to that and she gravitates towards that kind of thing and I don’t want to feel she can’t have fun and joke like normal with people etc. So when he fucked with this Limonade chick, I really felt for it and it was like a united front with people who I did not see eye to eye with, to help this woman against Jimmer, who turned her friends against her, constantly doxing her, and her family, and putting out threats within 12 hour streams, all while taking over her community of True Crime and wanting to be the number one guy in town. And the sycophants have become a lot worse, I don’t know how he has convinced these many people to help him and be completely blinded by his tactics, and the ones who are standing up for themselves as doing dirty tactics, when it is not nearly on the same level, and it is being done out of self defense. I don’t agree with everything people say on the panel, but I have enjoyed discussion I have had with certain people because without being this preachy SJW, I try to teach people that the shock jock type of humor is not really the edgiest and it doesn’t mean it can’t be funny but I would rather have people agree with me with systemic shit, and let them do their shock jock style of humor, but Jimmernam’s crew will take stuff and make videos to discredit any type of criticism towards him and create false narratives about him. It feels like what he pretends he is going through, he actually does it to me, so it sounds like me and him are kind of the same, but this guy copies everything, Howard Stern’s personality, Bill Burr generic whit woman voice,  NBA commentators closing tags and even channels Chris Jericho by calling himself Le Champion. When he sees that this woman has backup, he will try to get in on the Stream Yard link and claim he wants to talk when he just wants to insult her and project things on to her and questioning her parenting and her divorce, when he is the guy who can’t see his kids because of the shit he is doing. He will send his teenage audience into this woman’s streams and then make videos of how she is grooming him, when he is the one who has had a kid audience and played adult content for them and constantly bringing up how people are calling him a pedophile because he let a kid in his discord in 2018 and it had porn in it, and he will claim the videos of him are being edited, when it is not and that is him. He lost his mind when he lost that reddit money, so now he has just become a lot bitterer and he is threatening me and others.

He did not like that I was on her panel and making new alliances and friendships, especially with people I didn’t think I liked before because I assumed they were just doing ignorant shock jock humor when they are a lot more deeper about their discussions. Now Jimmer did not like that and it gave me confidence to stand up to him seeing how this Limonade chick was standing up to him, even though she has been getting a lot of shit on her from her former friends, one of which is a gay guy who seems so scared he just hangs out with Jimmer, and Jimmer has constantly been kind of homophobic and does not regret any of the hurtful things he has said to people, It feels like that Kitty chick, who he doxxed when she did not have his back, is back with him time to time, even though she is good at hiding her role in doing any dirt,  so as far as I know she has nothing to do with this, but it feels like if they want to make money in a field and continuously create drama, they will. I could be wrong though. It felt for a while that he was going to get caught for what he is doing, but he just comes back more confident and making some threats and dedicating streams to putting out private information, and it seems youtube does not want to do anything. He does not like that I aligned with this woman to give her support about what he has been doing, and I did it because maybe if people in that community did not believe the others who are informing these people about the past of this guy and to watch out for him, I would have more credibility since I am a former celebrity essentially and since we in society value someone who seems to have greater value unfortunately because of how “famous’ they are, I thought I would put it for good use, and now Jimmernam aka Misery Box has threatened to come after me, which is aligning with the original trolls who are now constantly bothering me and sending people to my scopes, and maybe get shady people to befriend me so I will be associated with someone I don’t know well. I don’t have the resources to do background checks, I kind of assume if this person is just roaming around I want to believe they are not all scumbags, even if they put on a false bravado of being anti PC, they are buying into ignorance,

So this all ties into the alien lady because she followed me when one of the guys who has power with the app came into my scope, and since I blocked her he and the trolls have become a lot more aggressive, but I also know that these people are associated with Jimmernam, and these people seem hella racist, and bigoted, and this alien lady keeps making it seem like I am the one rolling with racists, while she is claiming to be someone with special powers who can put people into rehabilitation, so maybe she is someone special and I don’t realize it. I am having a hard time understanding what is going on because there is another guy involved who she calls my producer, who started out as a troll, but he and I have gotten a long, but sometimes I wonder since he had a friendship with her and that other dude I met on scope, he has kind of seem iffy by wanting me in their clique and to believe them, but when I don’t give in, he will be on my side, but then the lady will tell me he is the one that is stirring all of this up.

I realize by not giving specific names, I may be confusing people, but keep in mind that no one gives a fuck about these stupid blogs but I did an outlet to write about it and the more I write, I just fucking shake my head how I am so bad at explaining all of this and what makes it worse is that you can’t keep up with people who I am referring to other than a few people. The trolls will be so much more outward aggressively with admitting they want me to kill myself and encourage me to take pills, and what hurts about this, what if I am not the only one these people do it to, and how many people who have killed themselves have dealt with targeted harassment. So while I am tougher mentally than a lot of others, I can take it, even though it hurts my fucking soul, because these people can be protected and say the worst shit and do the worst shit and me standing up for myself is what is magnified because I am supposed to be the better person, even though people want to pile on me and making me a miserable person.

When I separated with the dude and the lady, I figured they would get mad at the fact I am moving forward so they have to try and show up in different scopes I am in and maybe tell people to come and be spies for them. So sometimes when I am hurt about how my friendship with this dude was from the summer, I might be irrational and talk shit and I do this knowing he will hear about it, and he will act like I am talking shit about him, and he will say he does not want part of drama, but he is still monitoring me, and because I am not giving in, this is all I suspect in a theory not fact, that they need to start with me but look like the rationalized ones. I was willing to make peace but because they dismiss what I am going through and claim that I am endangering this lady because she insists on observing my scopes, but hates that her followers are there, like it is my problem, I don’t encourage hatred toward her and continued harassment. I might talk shit about her when she makes my broadcast about her, but she will claim she finds it funny or whatever, but when it is convenient she will then use it as a prime example of why I am an asshole.

Last weekend we had a blow up where I was on her scope with the trolls, who are aligned with Jimmernam, and the dude I was friends with who does good community work, who seems to have conviction, because he did end his friendship with people who treated Wendy like shit, which is admirable but all I did was bring up is that he is careful of his image but he is hanging out and following trolls who might be aligned with someone who might be grooming children, I did not say that he is the one who is a child predator or anything but I can understand why he is mad, but I am making a point that I am getting hated on for people I don’t want to fuck with and get doxxed by, because I let them in my periscope but not following them while he and this alien lady are following someone like this account Gorilla Bacon, who will restream my shit and play my worst calls. Sometimes I don’t know if these people are actual fans and they are just toughening me up or if these people are punishing me and becoming more aggressive because it is their job to get me out of the way before Howard ends up getting canceled when his past and his potential corruption might be brought to light.

These trolls don’t realize that the only reason people are aligning with them is because they all have mutual hatred for me. It could be anyone, it could be this dude on periscope, the alien lady, the trolls, Jimmernam and his kid army, or maybe people in my life who probably hate me. Either way their lives are all better than me and yet they need to make me feel like shit and rub it in my face I am on welfare, like this was not the plan from the system, because there are different rules in this world, and they blacklist me from making a living anywhere else so they can say I am not trying to monetize anything because I am not doing it on their time.

Any chance for anything embarrassing they will run with. Here is an example, if I say something that might be about agendas by the upper echelon of the LGBTQ, they will say homophobia but then if I say that I would consider having sex with a post op Trans woman, then they will mock me for it like they are homophobic. They will say the most racist shit against Muslim women or black people, and then a story comes out from someone as a joke about how I asked a Muslim woman out because we both live in Toronto, and she is a cool chick who has a good sense of humor, she asks me how much I will pay for her and where I will take her and I am willing to pay for something small on  first date because it is about getting to know each other but I believe if we should pay our own shit on the first date, but she jokingly said I need to spend more money and I said “I will spend 50 bucks at most” and when I was given the option of over 100, I said “For that kind of money I better be getting laid” but I did not mean it literally because it was my way of conveying that it is ridiculous to expect a man to pay so much on a first date to get to know each other,  just like it is ridiculous for me to expect sex on the first night. But the trolls ran with it and said that I am harassing a woman so it becomes a top google search when you look me up. It feels they are amplifying it because if Stern does get exposed, and I am someone who has been a prime target for calling him out, then when the general public looks me up, they will see these false narratives about me, and that is why it hurts to see these people who I thought were good, to align with these trolls who are doing it, and because they are not getting the shit they wanted out of me, they will have no issues to act like I am this dangerous human being who is lying and causing all this pain, and that won’t work. You will not point out at me and discredit me, because I am such an easy target who has no backup.

No media outlet even gives a fuck and it is sickens me because it will continue and it feels like they will only care until something horrible happens to me so then they can pretend they give a fuck about the situation, kind of like they are what they claim the MSM is and maybe someone is investigating and I am wrong but it feels like the worst possible shit has to happen in order for it to be exposed. You know how fucked up that is? It is like no matter what people have to profit off the pain and it shows that all these things are predetermined and will have solutions after the fact. It does not matter and I wrote this in 2 parts and made it this long because I hope if you are reading this, I hope you got a headache from reading all this convoluted mess of an explanation. I know most of you will not get through it all so you might as well put it on vocaroo to so you can get through it easier. Make sure you set it on some stereotypical accent.

I wrote this part with the fact that lately it has been more peaceful but when I was given the choice of not wanting this lady in my scope or wanting her out of my life, they did not take it kindly because if I gave in then I wanted her in my life, but by saying no because she has fucked with me too much and changed the narrative on me to paint me as the bad guy because she couldn’t make me fall for her spell, like she seems to have on other people, she is now coming into scopes of other people I have met and is kind of trying to poach them from partaking in my lives, and now she is coming back to my scope and pretends she is just automatically being put there and that the whole ambush on me on her scope was just comedy, Now that I let her back on, she will twist that, and say I forced her to be put on.

I don’t know what the fuck is going on anymore. I will close with this, that if you are someone of importance and power, you need to check in on this Misery Box guy and what kind of fucked up shit he has convinced his people to do. He has ensured that I will not go on that Limonade chick’s panel because he has threatened me and encouraged me to kill myself, and tell me how my parents don’t love me because I am such a disappointment, even threats of doxing them when people are not well, and I have tried to document this, if you go to my twitter page and look at the pinned tweet where I show old audio of Howard in 97 jokingly threatening the media if they fucked with him he would have dossiers on them to ruin their lives, and in that thread I have documented some of the cryptic videos, and threats of something happening to me, and it just does not matter anymore. I don’t know if the alien lady has anything to do with him but she is allowing some of the people she is associated with.

By the way on a scope where this bigoted guy who I hate was threatening to kill myself because his periscope girl friend cheated on him. Even though I hate the guy for how fucked up he is and feels no remorse I don’t like seeing anyone lose their mind, but he was one of the guys who I used as an example of the alien lady being friends with, who constantly says racist shit when she would point out because I shared the scope of the black atheist dude who was being harassed by Zionists, and now being labeled an anti Semite. So I called into the guy’s scope to see if he was for real and if he was fine, and if this situation was so real, that alien lady chose the time where he was threatening to kill himself and people, to come and tell me it was my fault and that I don’t care. She has no problem with just blaming me flat out and just making up lies, and then act like she is a victim afterwards if I point out her bullshit. It has become such a fucking mess. I don’t even know what this blog will accomplish. I am trying to move forward and it feels these trolls will not allow me, and they have me in a constant state of fear and paranoia, and when I explain myself they will even make more of a mockery because of it. It is so fucking gross and sick.

[homespork-review]

Homespork Act 1: The Note Dawdling Tension Plays (Part 2)

BRIGHT: The next bit of narration continues to establish John’s character: he has no idea what to call the red arm on the mailbox, and doesn’t care. We also learn that much like many teenagers, he doesn’t want to spend hours with his Dad. The author uses this opportunity to drop in a reference to the title.

The next page has a loading screen! I think this is the first interactive page in the comic. (For a certain value of interactive - you can mouseover the vertical lines of the games in the CD rack, and the cover of the game will pop up. Some of these link you to other works by Hussie.)

CHEL: Unfortunately, we then go into sylladex shenanigans AGAIN. Mercifully, this time it’s brief. We’ll let this one go, but I’ve got one eye on you, Huss.

TG messages John again, making reference to “TT”, who is confirmed female and alleged to be “mackin on” TG, and to his “bro” who “basically knows everything and is awesome”. How sincere he is in either of those remains to be seen. Finally, John actually gets told how to use his sylladex. Maybe the shenanigans will stop now… Anyway, he selects hammers for his strife specibus, or his weapon of choice, and the sylladex is confirmed able to hold things which would be too big to carry normally, such as Colonel Sassacre's Daunting Text of Magical Frivolity and Practical Japery, a book roughly as big as John is. At least the stupid sylladex actually has some practical use - I’m sure John’s as happy as I am to know that!

Next we see the review which put TG off; GameBro magazine explains “Why the ‘Game of the Year’ or whatever isn’t as good as some other stuff I like that’s better”. As it turns out once you get past the Totally Radical verbiage, the reviewer didn’t even play it. Something suspect’s definitely going on if it’s so hyped up on so little information… erm, is it just me or is the term “Brotel Rwanda” rather tacky? I don’t know if that’s worth a point, the point of the joke could be that the game reviewer is an idiot…

FAILURE ARTIST: I’d have that squarely as a point.

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 1

CHEL: Okay, then, here’s our fourth count. Title is a reference to a line later in the comic, and I think the point of the count is pretty obvious. Mileage may vary, all works would get at least a couple points in this, and I don’t think it’s a big problem unless/until it starts to climb out of proportion. Not gonna use a WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM count because the reviewer, as seen in the pic, is supposed to be a white guy.

Regarding the rest of the review, I did consider whether this falls under the heading of HNTWAN’s “I, Youngster” (using slang or references from one’s own youth to write a contemporary younger person), but I’d say no, because it’s supposed to sound ridiculous. Same with John’s movies; his taste is supposed to be bad, I don’t think Hussie actually thinks kids in 2009 still all liked bad movies from before they were born. That, and Hussie’s word choices are frankly like nothing I’ve ever seen anywhere else in any time period.

We shall move on, as so is the comic. Forty-seven pages into the comic, the main character finally leaves his bedroom. Wow. Things are happening at breakneck speed here.

TIER: Truly the pace strides forward like a Colossus through Lilliput.

GET ON WITH IT!: 2

CHEL: Though the silly Groucho Marx disguise he puts on is cute.

BRIGHT: Of course, since it would be interesting to see what’s in the mailbox (or at least would move the plot along a bit), John spends the next few pages examining his home.

I’m torn about this. On the one hand, it does a bit more fleshing out of John and his home life, which is more interesting than endless sylladex shenanigans, and the narration is entertaining. On the other hand, I’m pretty sure that on my first read through I clicked through all of it, trying to get to something happening. It holds up better on the re-read to me.

Well, something does happen, John knocks over the urn containing his grandmother’s ashes and opens a box from his father which holds a full-sized harlequin doll. Again, how much this appeals depends on what you think of ‘loveable dork’ characters fumbling around.

Then we return briefly to John’s bedroom, where we meet the third character of this webcomic, tentacleTherapist, or the alluded-to TT. The conversation isn’t very long, but it does give a good sense of what TT is like.

CHEL: Specifically, prone to sarcasm and sesquipedalian loquaciousness. Also to inappropriate jokes. An invocation of the hentai trope "tentacle rape" (read her handle quickly) is a fairly uncomfortable username for a child to have.

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 2

Anyway, it seems she knows John very well - she’s able to guess he’s wearing “one of your disguises” with no clue in his messages, so evidently he does this a lot. She’s probably the smartest character introduced so far, and she and John seem to have a good relationship.

Now, again, this was originally a reader-driven forum game, but when it was collated into a webcomic, it might have been better to have the conversation with TT moved to before John left the room, so we’re not going back and forth unnecessarily. One journey through the house is enough, I’d say. Another GET ON WITH IT point, or does this come under the heading of the second point still? I’ll be nice and not count it, since he was going back to fetch an item and not just randomly wandering.

We definitely get more points from the text in Colonel Sassacre’s joke book:

And what of that tawny gent who puts his lackadaisical lean near the sarsaparilla font? You’ll have that listless octoroon find the spring in his step just yet! CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 3 WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 2

The point of these lines is that the text is outdated and racist, not that it should be emulated, but the “outdated” point was more than got across by the language used already. And it would seem fairly weird for a person who wasn’t white to read a line like that and not comment on it - okay, maybe John’s read it before and is used to it, but the narrator ought to point that out if it had ever bothered him.

FAILURE ARTIST: Colonel Sassacre is basically Mark Twain with a party hat photoshopped on to him. Mark Twain’s most famous work, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, has gotten into trouble in recent years because of the name of one of the characters: [N-word] Jim. The novel is progressive for its time but it hasn’t aged well. I’m guessing Colonel Sassacre’s unnecessary racism is a nod to that controversy.

CHEL: Get used to Photoshopped depictions of real people, too.

BRIGHT: John ventures out into the house again, ostensibly to retrieve the game but really to stick his fake arms to the harlequin doll and nose around his father’s study. Should the comment about the peanut allergy count towards ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY? In context with the can of peanuts I think there’s meant to be a joke here…

There is also a CAN OF PEANUTS on the desk. Ha ha, oh DAD. You won't be falling for THAT one again any time soon. A severe peanut allergy is a terrible affliction to cope with.

CHEL: That line? Yeah, it's a reference to the snake nut can prank item - have you seen those on cartoons, where someone offers canned snacks and a spring-loaded toy snake pops out? A dark joke, sure, but my sense of humour tends to run that way and I loled. CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS instead, possibly? I don’t know if people with life-threatening allergies would be offended by this - the joke isn’t that they’re weak or stupid or anything, the joke is the play on the reader’s expectations. I wouldn’t mind it if I had a peanut allergy, but as I said, my sense of humour is pretty dark.

FAILURE ARTIST: I feel like if a certain other parent we meet later did that people would take it as abusive.

CHEL: My assumption was that John’s dad didn’t actually mean to give him food that would kill him, that was just an unfortunate way of finding out he was allergic, but in this comic, who the fuck knows?... Come to think of it, maybe he did mean to. Peanut allergies run in families and it’s established much later on that one of the relatives involved (it gets complicated) also has a deadly peanut allergy, so it would seem logical that Dad would also have one and thus wouldn’t have them around to eat himself. Even if he did, that’s a bad move with an allergic person in the house. Maybe it is worth an ARE YOU TRYING point, then? Maybe this is just overanalysing, but then overanalysing is the whole point of this exercise, so there it goes!

ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?: 1

For clarification of the listed counts, this isn’t going under CALL CPA PLEASE because that one’s for when the kids do something disturbing themselves. We’ll show you what we mean when it comes up. We'll be nice and let Rose have an inappropriate username, that's not out of the ordinary for kids that age.

And speaking of said points, what about Dad giving John at least four birthday cakes? (He has two untouched ones in his room at the point he says he’s been eating cake all day, and Dad soon tries to give him yet another one.) That sounds cool from a thirteen-year-old’s point of view, but it kinda comes across as if Dad’s trying to feed him to death, and intentionally making kids horribly unhealthy can be a form of abuse. Or possibly to make up for something awful he knows about… Is the latter further evidence for the “guardians know about what’s coming” theory? Dad’s coddling John because he knows horrible things are going to happen? Hell, were the peanuts an attempted mercy kill, if we wanna get really tinfoil hat about it?

All that’s for later, though. Meantime, we get our first page with sound, as John plays “Showtime”, a nifty little piano tune.

"Homestuck // Showtime (Piano Refrain) // Piano" (Watch on YouTube)

The other kids get their own individual little musical parts too, later on, which merge to form one full piece.

FAILURE ARTIST: Music is a big draw in Homestuck. Not just these four main characters but pretty much every character has their own leitmotif.

[figmentpez]

It’s time, once again, to vent:

I used to love Christmas. I don’t anymore. There are still things about the holiday I like. Christmas carols can be fun. I can’t stay away from holiday sweets. I still love the look of Christmas lights. But for many years now December has just served as a reminder that my life isn’t what I want it to be.

I think I stopped loving Christmas a decade or so ago. Sometime after my failed engagement, and when a large number of my high school friends were not only showing up to Christmas Eve service with their wives or husbands, but with children as well. What used to be one of my favorite times to be at church became one of the most stressful.

I still struggle with this time of year, because I don’t know how to deal with all the emotions it brings up, and that means my brain does all sorts of awful things to my body to try to force me to deal with my emotions. A couple nights ago my right arm was paralyzed for over 20 minutes. I still don’t know what triggered that.

One of my biggest problems with dealing with being sad at Christmas is how many people try to tell me to NOT be sad. “But it’s Christmas, you should be happy!”, “Being alone is a blessing in disguise / you’re single for a purpose / you can serve God better single / etc”, “Well, why don’t you just get out there and meet someone?”, “You’re not alone, you’ve got family and friends!”, “You’ll find someone, things can change fast, you could be married by next Christmas.”, “Just focus on what you do have?”

Yeah... I have a roof over my head, food to eat, a computer and internet to entertain me... But none of it’s really mine. It’s all at the whim of my parents, who may decide to take it away (which they have threatened to do before, though they claim they never would). I have no way to support myself, and I have no idea how to get to a situation where I can support myself.

I’d at least like the illusion of having control over my life. Yeah, bad things can happen to anyone. Anyone can randomly lose their health, or their life, or their partner. But they don’t have that shoved in their face on a daily basis, and if they did it would fuck them over mentally. That’s what I’m struggling with. I don’t know how to feel like I have any control over my life. Nothing I do reliably helps me keep on an even keel.

Even this. Journaling about my emotions is something that’s helped in the past. It’s not helping now. Right now I’m in more pain than when I started. I don’t know why. Maybe I’m not talking enough about how I feel. Or I’m not coming up with counters to my negative thoughts. But I honestly can’t come up with any thoughts that seem both realistic and positive when it comes to my control over my life.

I’m sick of people assuming that I have it easy, because they don’t know all the shit that I have to deal with. “Well, if you can act in a play, why can’t you hold a job?” Because I fall apart by the end of a show’s run. 3 hours a night, 5 days a week for rehearsals is nearly at my limit with just 15 hours a week. If I do nothing else but rehearsals and taking care of myself, I hold mostly steady. But when it comes time for full runs of the show that take up 4+ hours a night, and like 6 days in a week. I’m done for at the end of one week of that. 20+ hours of “work” in a week and I’m falling apart. I’m behind on laundry, dishes, eating well, expressing my emotions, sleeping, and just about every form of self-care but showering. “You can hold your breath for 2 minutes, why can’t you just hold it indefinitely?”

---

On to a new subject. How I avoid things that might bring up emotions I don’t know how to express, and expect will end up repressed if I don’t actively try to express them.

I repress happiness sometimes. Like, if I’m too happy about something I have some hang-up telling me I shouldn’t be happy about, I just repress feeling happy. Most of the time I’m not even aware of it, unless I know in advance that I’m going to be conflicted about being happy. I just realize that I’ve been feeling numb in general, and have to wonder why my world is all gray.

I have some female friends who make YouTube videos. I have a lot of them saved to my “Watch Later” list because I don’t know how to deal with feeling really happy that I know them, and that they’re my friend, and that I like seeing them. One of them I have a crush on, and she doesn’t return my feelings, and that’s fine but I afraid that my feelings will be a burden on her, or that I’ll do something stupid because I care about her more than she cares about me, or irrational non-logical thoughts that can’t be put into words. I’m afraid that my emotions will control me, and I don’t know how to counter that type of thinking. So I avoid feeling, because I don’t know how to express such feels, and repressing feels is very harmful to me.

Another friend, I don’t watch her videos because I’m afraid, on some level, that I’ll develop a crush. I get “crushes” at the drop of a hat. If it’s someone I don’t know, no big deal, I just feel really strong, and it doesn’t go anywhere because I don’t know them. I just get to be really happy that I see what they create, and it fades after a while. If I know someone, though, I don’t know how strong it’s going to get, or if I’ll end up saying something stupid, or if in some way that person will notice that I’m smitten, and it will in some way offend or harm them that I have feelings for them that they don’t return. Like this person is really cool, and pretty and amazing, but I’m not interested in them now, and I know she wouldn’t be interested in me, but god damn I’m so afraid of developing feels for her because she’s so much like what I want in some ways, and it would really kill me if started wanting what I know she’s never going to be interested in. UGH!

I really am terrified that my emotions will screw up my friendships. Over the top, irrational, paralyzing fear. I’m not even sure exactly what I expect to happen. Just doom and awful. Like just the fact that I feel strongly attracted will somehow cause mental/emotional trauma to my female friends, and that they’ll rightly cut me out of their lives because I’ve hurt them with my emotions. I know that’s irrational, but I still feel afraid and I don’t know what the fuck to do about that.

I’m so lonely. There’s a flood of sadness from feeling disconnected, especially romantically, and I don’t know how to deal with that, and I’m irrationally afraid it will somehow ruin my life.

[myfriendpokey]

promissory notes

Complete satisfaction OR your money back!!! - is something I don't think anyone in videogames has ever willingly said,so maybe it doesn't make sense to talk of anything as stable as a "guarantee". Maybe it's more like a system of overlapping promises, designed to contain the idea that a videogame exists in at least some kind of provisional relationship to human happiness,  even if the rate at which the two could be converted is never quite nailed down. We have the promise the game will work on a given system or set of minimum requirements, the hazier assurance it might at least resemble the screenshots on the box, the genre assurance that it formally and hence experientially resembles some other game you like. The assurance, in press leading up to release, of passion and artistic intent rattling around in there somewhere as well, the assurance that the game will have x y and z new features and scope. Press and external reviewers can so to speak cosign a guarantee or write their own more ambivalent one on the basis of their reputation. Storefronts as well can tacitly endorse some promise - that this thing exists, functions, falls into the category of "entertainment" - when they put it on their shelves, virtual or otherwise. There's the promise of personal reputation, that the people involved wouldn't want to associate themselves with a bogus product, and the promise of monetary interest - this game obviously had a fair bit of money put into it, they're expecting  to make that back, therefore we can expect some moderate fidelity to customer expectation and the sort of general polished feel that comes with being able to hire lots of people to create bark textures.

Most of these institutions aren't specific to videogames, but I do think they have a greater prominence there, owing both to the higher amount of fussy technical variation in the format (it's hard to imagine a book, say, refusing to boot or secretly installing a bitcoin miner in your head) and also to its historical novelty. The idea that something called a "videogame" exists, is an entertainment format, is linked to some kind of prospective emotional value - all these have to be rhetorically insisted upon, particularly as the format moved from spaces with immediately visible analogues (pinball tables, mechanical amusements) to a more diffuse place  alongside the family television or home computer. They had to insinuate, and to an extent still have to insinuate, the exact role they played in everyday life. And the shift from being a sort of weird, garish, once-off toy into an ongoing home-improvement project, with new games and consoles to choose between and new add-ins to improve your machine, had to be accompanied by the emergence of institutions that could offer some reassurance this ongoing investment wouldn't be a waste.

So you can maybe glibly think of videogames as a form of currency, built on the premise that they can be "exchanged" at any time for some measure of enjoyment, where this exchange rate is underwritten and co-signed by various institutions. And as having something of the abstraction of currency, as well. If one videogame is a moment of enjoyment then 6000 videogames are in principle 6000 moments of enjoyment - never mind that you may never have a chance to play all those discounted games in your Steam library within one lifetime. Think of it as saving them up for a rainy day. And I suspect that as this relationship between possession and affect grows more abstracted and tenuous, institutions take on a correspondingly more important role in confirming that the central exchange relationship still holds true. A bit like debt rating agencies - it's not so much about actually untangling the complicated sale of good, bad and nonexistent debt packages from one financial institution to another, it's more the promise that at some point this untangling COULD occur, that all this imaginary money still bears some kind of distant relationship to actual human needs.

I wonder if the paranoid style in videogames culture stems partly from this sense of underlying contingency. It's not that games are just experiences, which can't be taken away - they're more like deposits on hypothetical experience, and those deposits can indeed depreciate in value if not turn out to be worthless from the start. Bad reviews, spoilers, the general reputation of a game can all cause it to drop in expected value. The fuss that happens every time a new GTA game gets below 9.5 on IGN or wherever is not so much that the game might really have problems so much that having those problems flagged from the start can marr the sense of occasion, the I-was-there-ness and anticipated retrospective value that's part of the package being sold. And of course the consistent anxiety around corrupt reviewers, incorrect press releases, "fake games", all those other things that could adulterate the currency...

And maybe we could consider the current anxiety around "asset flips" on Steam in the same light. After all, who's really playing these things - besides Youtubers doing so ironically? They're easy to spot and easily refunded and even if some kid really does buy "Cuphat" or "Battleglounds" by accident, well, the worst that could happen is that they develop the same misplaced affection for exploitative consumer garbage as everybody else who grew up playing videogames. And indeed the fact that nobody really buys them is part of the critique - what's unsettling is the fact that they seem more connected to the shadow economies of cheap bundles and trading-card-store manipulation (which is so easy and widespread that PC Gamer could publish a how-to guide with no apparent pushback from anyone). You can easily unpick the specific arguments about what constitutes an asset flip versus a game that just uses premade assets, or how to tell a "scam" from just a regular bad videogame - demonstrative sincerity?? Producing cynical knockoffs with premade asset packs is not necessarily the act of poorly-funded fly-by-nights, as witness the recent news about Voodoo recieving $200 million from Goldman Sachs. But of course they're the chief source of anxiety around the issue, and the ways in which that anxiety manifests is often weirdly racialised - the automatic bad faith extended to the Global South, the fear of nameless hordes overrunning our valuable, exclusive institutions, even a sort of weird variant on the “welfare mother” imagery - the asset flipper with 100 interchangeable games, driving a cadillac... Leaching off the accumulated value stockpiled by the Steam brand, devaluing our libraries and the institutions that have been telling us they're worth something...

I don't really have a lot of sympathy with the asset-flip discourse, both because exactly the same anxiety has been rolled out in the past to Unity, walking simulators, visual novels, Game Maker, Twine, and basically anything else that lowers the barriers to entry around making videogames; and also because I love many games I think those anxieties would try to exclude ("The Zoo Race", GoreBagg games, the Johnny series, even Limbo Of The Lost is as close as Oblivion ever came to being creatively exciting), and I think the calls for hard work and sincerity and so forth function as just so much evasive kitsch. We already HAVE a ton of games like that; and that's maybe the real problem. Why is there so much anxiety about discovering good games when, say, people are complaining about having to choose between the two different, polished, labour-of-love, years-in -the-making narrative platform games being released the same week? Doesn't this just mean the "enjoyment standard" of the videogame promissory note is just by now so abstract and intangible that it's basically just an empty convention, useful for nothing but perpetuating itself - perpetuating the idea of an unadulterated good-game-ness, stretching aimlessly into space like a 1950s radio broadcast.  It's a convention which is basically exclusive, which works by trying to put a cordon around the vast swathes of human culture it thinks it's safe to ignore.

Which is maybe fine - nobody can pay attention to anything, and some "rating institutions" are presumably less pernicious than others (the advice of a friend? a critic you enjoy? your own intuition?). There are obviously a lot of critiques that can be levelled at the existing one for videogames, including in particular the assumption that anything that cost a lot of money is worth at least checking out. But there's also something more generally sad about this kind of enforced, perpetual scarcity in a time of abundance, about a model that just pines for less shit so that it can start to feel relevant again, about one that can think of nothing to do with the sheer volume of things being made and rabbit holes being burrowed than wish they didn't exist and try to shut them out entirely.

More people being able to make things is good, and hard to get to; it can also be unnerving and disorienting and also push against some of the happier ideas we might have had about the democratization of art-production (for example, that this wouldn't co-exist with monopolies of arbitrary unaccountable control of the kind exercised by Youtube, Steam, the App store, Google, etc...), it can be a space to view some of the weirder machinations of capital as they leave traces through the culture (money-laundering $9000 books on Amazon and viral Pregnant Spiderman youtube vids). I don't think continuing to defend the value of the medium will help think about these, or become anything but more and more paranoid and quixotic over time.