#if you can make a video you can make all the assets for it not half-ass it with AI. come on now
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queenburd ¡ 17 hours ago
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Hi, yes, I know it's been a minute since I wrote fic. it's been a long year. have this. Happy holidays.
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I don’t know how to explain to you that the Parable is both a prison and a home, so instead I’ll say this:
The Narrator has been trying to make changes.
Not big changes, mind you! Not to the story, and not to the structure of the place. Endings remain untouched, halls stay as they are, going where they have always gone except for when the game decides they should go someplace else. The Narrator leaves it all in place, because why fix something that’s not broken?
No. No, it’s small things he’s trying to change. The painting in Stanley’s office. The textures of the chairs.
Let’s talk about that.
See, Stanley isn’t happy. This is abundantly clear, in the way he walks about the office—sometimes bored, sometimes irritated, but mostly… lost. There’s vacancy in his eyes. He’s walking just to do something. He doesn’t have anywhere to go, and while this can fill him with a deep-seated anger, lately it’s been making him…
Rather morose.
And this is a problem, for the Narrator.
It isn’t just that he wants Stanley to follow the story (although that would be nice, wouldn’t it), but he struggles to properly grasp why the quiet misery eats at him. Perhaps—perhaps he feels inadequate? He certainly thrives off positive feedback, and withers when criticized before striking with a sharper tongue than he means to. Or maybe, maybe he worries that Stanley isn’t truly… hearing him? Isn’t responding to him. That certainly doesn’t sit right with the Narrator.
And yet, for all that these are genuine, selfish reasons the Narrator has to feel bothered by Stanley’s dismal attitude, none of it really grips at the core of him. None of it captures the reality he’s still trying to come to grips with.
He wants Stanley to be happy. If… if Stanley isn’t happy, then the world is wrong.
And the Narrator must fix it.
So! The changes. Yes. You know, he thought it would be simple enough to change the textures of the chairs in the office, to start. They’re only office chairs, after all. And they look terribly uncomfortable, Stanley is always trying to stretch out his lower back when he stands from a reset, surely the Narrator can make them a bit more plush? A bit more, er, ergonomic, that’s the word! More comfortable. With armrests!
It can’t be so hard to edit the model.
Er, tangent, completely unrelated, really, don’t look too hard into it—have you ever seen a video game asset clip and break into the floor with such a violence that it threatens to throw the assets around it into a warped amalgam of broken and stretched textures?
Okay, have you ever seen every single type of that asset on a map try to do this at the same time?
The entire office seemed to jitter, and Stanley had run nearly all the way to the two doors room before a violent reset had returned their world into its normalcy.
“I swear, Stanley, I wasn’t trying to kill you! I was trying to—I just—I wanted to—oh, but it was supposed to be a surprise—oh, what’s the use. The cat’s gone and killed itself in the bag.”
It's an unmitigated disaster, one that threatens to completely overtake him and make him throw in the towel, but Stanley sees his new painting (nothing special, simply one of the other assets already in the office), and he—he touches it simply with the tips of two fingers, and he sort of smiles a crooked half-smile, and.
If the Narrator can make that smile happen again, isn’t it worth trying?
(The painting changes out every handful of resets, and Stanley—he always taps it just once, when it does. An acknowledgment. But it’s not enough, it’s not nearly enough!)
Alright, so, back to the drawing board on the chairs. In the meantime, what else? Office decor? The Narrator kicks around the idea of balloons for a bit, but he shelves it. It might be tacky, and there’s so many options on what they might say. Perhaps desk displays! Yes, more variety in the office. He’s not technically meant to let Stanley play Solitaire, since it distracts from the story, but, you know, to hell with it. Solitaire, and Minesweeper, the Narrator even considers a rare Mahjong game before he forcibly reminds himself that minimal is good, and these types of computer would not have it, and really, Mahjong is a little above Stanley’s mental faculties, isn’t it?
Alright, so technically, none of these spawn at Stanley’s computer—it’s important that his monitor display the lack of orders. But his coworkers, well, maybe a couple of them are slouching off, the Narrator excuses. And hell, maybe, if Stanley ever asks, the Narrator can let him play in office 427 and. And…
Oh, what’s he thinking? Giving Stanley other games to play, when his is supposed to be the star? What’s he doing?
He’s… is this fixing it? Is this making it more bearable for Stanley? (Is his game really so bad to play that Stanley would play other games instead?)
Stanley sees the monitors, and he pokes at the games, but he says little and the Narrator doesn’t address them, too afraid of the answer he’ll get. And eventually, Stanley returns to wandering the halls and playing the game made for him.
Is… is that a failure? Is that success? The Narrator can’t tell.
Focus. Try to focus. Remember why this is so important. His memory is faulty (a fact that still frightens him), but he still holds right to the fundamental point, even when the thought of Stanley’s near-smile distorts and becomes distant. The point. The point is happiness. The point is Stanley’s happiness. That’s what the story is about, right? That’s what he wrote.
A quarter appears on Stanley’s desk, unannounced. It lasts through the reset following that run’s ending, and the reset after that. When he finds the second quarter, left unceremoniously by a mug in the meeting room, he pockets it. When the reset hits, it sits on top of the first quarter, by the phone in his office.
The Narrator comments on none of it, and pretends the air does not grow thick with anticipation each time Stanley stops in place and examines the tiny, unassuming things, hardly out of place save for the mere fact they were not there before.
In this way, Stanley finds small change throughout the building’s many twists and turns, until after many many resets, the final quarter appears on a low coffee table in the lounge.
And, one ending later, Stanley is dropping his small hoard into the thin slot on the vending machine. Each coin makes a satisfying cla-chunk, a noise the Narrator is exceptionally proud of implementing so perfectly.
And then…
Stanley chooses a beverage. The machine gives another very satisfying ca-clunk as it drops a small can with a green label at his feet. The label is nondescript, just like the blurry options on the vending machine, but there you are. The Narrator watches with bated breath as Stanley picks up the can…
And waves it above his head, scowling.
“Mm?” The fellow tries to come off as unbothered. Distracted. Uninterested. “What? What’s that you’ve got, then? Oh, it’s a can of soda! What a stroke of luck you’ve had, getting a drink from a machine that purportedly doesn’t work! Surely, things are turning up in your favor.”
Stanley continues to scowl, which is…. Befuddling. Shouldn’t he be delighted by this?
“And what exactly is the problem? Got the wrong flavor, have you?”
The lines deepen on the office worker’s face. No, no, this isn’t right! A hand moves to ask a question, in line with the clear irritated query he offers the Narrator—
[ What the hell is this? ]
“Hmph. I already said what it is, or are you really intent on not listening to me? It appears to be one of your classic canned beverages, chilled of course, like it says on the machine.”
[ I know that, ] Stanley insists, [ but it’s not supposed to work. You changed it, didn’t you? ]
Ah, now’s the time to take the credit, to accept the praise and preen a bit under it, before humbling oneself politely. To offer it as a sign of generosity, yes!
“Well, I certainly can’t deny that I had a hand in the matter of getting the machine to function! It really did take a bit of figuring out, but I think the effort was worth it in the end to get something that really—“
Stanley cuts him off with a motion from both arms, like an X in front of his body before slicing through the air. His grimace remains.
[ Why? ]
There’s no gratitude. There’s no joy. There’s only a deep distrust, and the Narrator flounders in the face of it.
“Why? Well I—I thought—well I just thought it might make for a, a nice change. A little mini game maybe, I don’t know! Honestly, I thought you’d be more grateful about this, Stanley, you’re always in here prodding at the machine despite my repeated comments that it’s just a textured box—isn’t this what you wanted?”
[ Since when has what I want mattered? You just want praise. That’s why you’ve been changing things in the office, isn’t it? You want to make your stupid office setting more realistic. ]
It shouldn’t hurt, really, but it does anyway. To be told that his intentions aren’t genuine, to be told he has ulterior motives—and, worse, to wonder if Stanley is correct. Is this another selfish attempt on his part? Is this just a way to make himself feel better? To, perhaps, offload his guilt?
The Narrator fumbles, and then he falls back on his tried-and-true technique—he pushes back. He’s not proud, but it’s so instinctive, don’t you see?
“Now look here. Don’t you pretend you haven’t appreciated a break from what you yourself have described as the monotony. You’re actively gaining something out of this, there’s no need to be so ungrateful about it! Can’t you appreciate the work I’m putting in for you, for once?”
An accusatory finger pointed up at the ceiling, almost in victory. Stanley shakes the can still in his hand, and throws it at the wall between two paintings. It near about explodes.
“Oh, now look what you’ve done! All that hard work, all that change, and for what?! A smear on a wall. Great job, Stanley. You really showed me.” There’s a sneer in his voice. He’s angry. He’s upset. He’s been rejected again.
He just doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong.
“What do you want to hear, that I changed a few paintings and added a few features and made an entirely new mechanic, just for you to pump up my ego? Do you really think so little of me, or that I care so much for your opinion of me? Is it really so hard to believe that I just wanted to try to ease your misery?”
Stanley stares at the smear on the wall with a furrowed brow, his eyes dark and his mouth a grim line. The Narrator just keeps talking, like he can’t stop. He just can’t stop.
“Look at me, I’m Stanley, I’m trapped in an office building with only a narrator for company, and he’s so awful, really! He wrote me a whole story where I end up happy and he tries to get along with me but he’s just so terrible, he lets me play games that aren’t the one he made just for me, what a horrible fellow!”
Stanley covers his ears but that’s never helped. He storms out of the lounge and then across the maintenance room, and then through the meeting room into the closet. The door doesn’t slam behind him but it’s a near thing.
“Yes! Fine! Go into your little room where I can’t see you, who wants to talk to you anyhow?! Who wants to engage with someone who outright refuses to accept a gift offered to him?! Not me. I have better things to do with my time."
It will be a couple hours before Stanley leaves the broom closet. When he goes to the Freedom ending, it’s a clear attempt at a peace offering—but it’s obvious from both his slow steps through the mind control facility and the lack of drama in the Narrator’s voice that neither of their hearts are in it.
The Narrator is not proud. And he takes away all the changes he made, not as a punishment, but because they were stupid. It was stupid of him to try to make this place better. It’s never going to be better and he’s never going to be more than the fellow keeping Stanley here.
He can’t make Stanley happy, can he? He can’t be enough. Of course he would never be enough.
Stanley wanders through the building again, and again. The Narrator says his lines best as he can, but he know his performance is slipping. The tired, lost look returns to Stanley’s face.
-
“Do I remember the Confusion Ending?” the Narrator repeats, when Stanley prods him after a reset at some point. “Er… no, no let me think for a moment—that’s the one with a LineTM? I think? Yes, I have a note here somewhere on that,” he says, feeling more confident, “although I don’t think you and I have ever found it, so—oh. No? That’s not right? We’ve… we’ve done that one?”
Stanley nods.
“Oh.”
The voice makes a noise, like a throat clearing.
“Did we, um, did we just do that one?”
Stanley nods again.
“Oh. That’s…. I see.”
It never ceases to unsettle the voice. It tries to power through, best as it can.
“Is there um, is there any particular reason you’re asking?”
Stanley seems to think this over. He signs, cautiously, [ You say some things. I was never sure if you actually meant them, or if it was another joke at my expense. ]
“What sort of things do I supposedly say, then? Maybe I can clear up any—aheh, aheheh, confusion, I suppose.”
Stanley doesn’t smile at the joke, though his mouth does a complicated thing. He warily opens up the shape of his memories, and the Narrator brushes a metaphorical finger across a metaphorical page. The voice tries, tries terribly hard, to let it roll naturally over the both of them instead of forcing them through the ordeal.
(Remembering a memory and reliving a memory, they’re not supposed to be so different. Still, you don’t feel like you have hindsight in this way. You’re in that moment, same as you had been, without being quite able to separate yourself from it.)
“Just me and Stanley, forging a new path, a new story! Well, it could be anything! What do you want our story to be?”
When the voice is itself again, its fingers drawn back from the page, it finds itself somewhere just left of shaken. Composure. The Narrator must find his composure.
“Well, that’s… that was certainly an, um, an enlightening experience!” he tries. “I guess that explains the Adventure Line™️ that I’ve found in the files. I had wondered when I would need to use that feature.”
Stanley is looking at the ground.
“Well… what’s wrong? It—oh, yes, you were asking me—“
[ Even if you meant it then, I don’t think you mean it now, ] Stanley signs, and no, no that just won’t do.
“Would you even let me finish speaking before you come to some kind of foregone conclusion! For goodness’s sake, Stanley—“
The Narrator sighs. Melancholy overtakes him, when he speaks again.
“I’m trying to make you understand, I’ve been trying and trying but I just can’t seem to get through to you. Stanley, my story ends with you being happy.”
There’s a vicious snap of the head up as Stanley visibly prepares to retort.
“No, please let me finish, I’m not done! I’m trying to make a point here! I’m… I’m trying to explain.”
Stanley, still visibly unhappy, holds his metaphorical tongue.
“The point… the point, Stanley, is your happiness. I know you don’t believe me, and, and I know that what you want more than anything is to leave. Believe me, if I could give you what you want, I would! If it were in my power, I, well I—“
(”I don’t want to be trapped like this!”)
He sighs. “There isn’t a way out. I know that isn’t what you want to hear. I’m really, truly sorry. But I do want to do what I can to make your time here… not miserable. Do you understand?”
Stanley is looking at the floor again. The Narrator tries, gently, to reiterate himself.
“I really do want to make you happy.”
Hands lift. They stay at chest height for a full minute. Then:
[ I can’t be. ]
It hurts, like nothing else. He can’t help the small, defeated, “oh,” that slips out.
“Okay. That’s… okay. I understand."
Fist to heart. Circles against a chest.
“No, no, you don’t have to apologize,” oh goodness, is the Narrator sniffling? He sounds, he sounds on the verge of tears. How humiliating. “What is there to apologize for? Listen, why don’t I load up button heaven for you, and you can have some time at least without me incessantly in your ear? That sounds nice, doesn’t it? Yes? With nice, big buttons to mess around with.”
After a long moment, Stanley nods, hesitant.
“Perfect. Let me just get that set up on your monitor. There you go. Have fun.”
He knows it’s not enough for Stanley. He knows Stanley is just trying to assuage him.
God, maybe there’s a benefit to forgetting. Maybe it stops the pain.
But if he forgets, then the lesson doesn’t stick, and the Narrator needs the lesson to stick, doesn’t he? So that he can be a realist about it all.
Stanley doesn’t trust him, and they are not friends.
Okay.
-
The Narrator prides himself on being a professional, so he collects himself best as he can and he performs to the best of his ability. If there’s any hint of despondency in his lines, well, there is plausible deniability, nobody can say for sure the script doesn’t call for it.
Nevermind that he’s said all the words, so many times.
He’s allowed to play with the delivery, he thinks.
He’s fine.
It’s when he goes off-script that the Narrator struggles more. He snaps at Stanley in their usual spats, they butt heads; and even then the voice finds it keeps exposing that vulnerable honesty in the hopes that maybe this time, it will be enough. Maybe this time, Stanley will see that it’s trying.
It’s a fool’s errand, obviously, but the Narrator is very much a fool.
And sometimes…
Sometimes Stanley seems…
Better.
How to describe it? The way he will move with intent, to do something as silly as jump out a window to hear a limerick, and grin, even though he’s heard it perhaps a hundred times? The crinkles in the corners by his eyes when he closes the doors in the hall attached to room 217, to stare inside the room with a focus that can only be for show?
He stacks mugs, sometimes, collecting every one in the cubicle rooms that he can find and carefully assembling them like one would with playing cards, with some kind of arrangement or sorting that the Narrator cannot make heads or tails of. Stanley tells him that he has a process, the fellow couldn’t possibly understand, and, well, that’s for sure.
Rating the game features every single possible number. Trying to beat the baby game with one finger stuffed in an ear while the other hand slams buttons. Walking up the stairs, then down the stairs, then back up the stairs, on the way to the boss’s office.
The Narrator doesn’t really know what to make of it all. Part of him, the part that’s easy to fall back to, wants to find it all irritating. Another wants to find it funny. Not charming, necessarily, but… silly. He wants it to continue, he would encourage it if he knew what to say. Would a joke be acceptable? Should he tease? Affect grumpiness? What’s the answer?
He’s never been very good at making choices. Once again, Stanley makes the choice for him.
[ The computers don’t change screens anymore. Did you do that? ]
“What? Oh, from—yes, I did end up removing that feature, with the computer card games,” he says, feeling a bit on the back foot.
[ And my office painting, ] Stanley continues, uncannily perceptive.
“Yes, well, I realized they weren’t doing much to—that is to say, when I realized they weren’t improving your experience, I—“
[ You didn’t do it because you were angry with me? ] It almost feels like an accusation, which stings, but then, hasn’t the Narrator lashed out before? Wouldn’t that be par for the course?
And the expression Stanley wears isn’t resentment. The Narrator can’t properly place it.
“Wh—no! Goodness, no, did you think I was trying to—Look, I know that there are endings where I act as though I’m trying to punish you, but those are part of the game!”
Stanley’s eyes go to the carpet. Oh, has he said something wrong again? Quick, salvage it!
“The changes weren’t making things better for you, like I had hoped. I scrapped them because they weren’t good, that’s all. You weren’t enjoying them. It wasn’t—I wasn’t trying to take something from you,” he says hastily, before adding, perhaps a bit too honestly, “To be honest, I just thought you didn’t care."
Stanley’s eyes don’t lift, but after an uncomfortable pause, his hands raise to reply with agonizing caution.
[ I didn’t dislike them. ]
(God, it’s like pulling teeth with this fool, getting him to show any kind of positive response.)
“Then I’ll put them back,” the Narrator tries to say casually. He feels… fluttery. Does that make sense? How can a voice feel fluttery? “Do you, um…”
Does he ask if Stanley wants the soda machine back, and force the man to acknowledge it was good, as though prying out praise? Does he wait for Stanley to bring it up first, forcing the protagonist into uncomfortable vulnerability?
Broaching the subject is… difficult, for the same reason either way: it means Stanley admitting he wants something.
Why is communication so hard? It shouldn’t be this hard, when half the party is just a voice!
Stanley finally looks up from the floor, and he focuses on the space between two light fixtures, above the copy machine. He shifts a little uncomfortably where he stands, arms crossing, then uncrossing, but at the very least, his expression takes on a determined and almost challenging air as he lifts his chin. Like he's making a decision.
[ If you wanted to implement that coin hunt for the soda machine... thing, I could give it another go. Make sure there aren't any bugs to work out. ]
“Oh?” He says, hopeful, catching the framework he's offered. “Yes, you know, I don't know that I got all the flavors right, you know? It's not as though I can test them out for myself. You'll have to give me thorough feedback on what needs improvement, so I'm sure it will keep you busy.”
The man squints, motions quick. [ You'll have to deal with real critical feedback, you know. You sure you want my real opinion, and not just some fluff for your ego? ] But there's the barely-there tug at the corner of his mouth, just visible in the pulling muscle of his cheek; a little tell that he's trying to joke.
“Oh, please, if anything, we can think of this as a way to educate you on how to thoughtfully and usefully critique game design and feature functionality. Genuine critique is an art and a skill, Stanley, one that I'm sure you could learn to appreciate,” the Narrator sniffs. The pride is a cover, of course. He's in on the joke.
They're on the same page, they're communicating. Of course, it makes sense, it's the perfect excuse for both of them to hide behind; if it's “new features” to implement for “the game”, then Stanley has to test them, doesn't he? To make sure they work effectively! And, if it curbs his boredom, if it gives him just a hint of enjoyment—of joy—then they both win, don't they? Stanley won't have to feel like he's admitting to liking what's been made for him, it won't be about praising the Narrator's game. It will be a matter of professionalism; of game maker and playtester.
But they'll know. It will be their little secret.
“You know,” the Narrator says thoughtfully as he glances over his many concepts and files and assets, “I'd been considering changing some of the office chairs to a newer model... A retexture isn't enough, I'm afraid, I'm thinking about loading up a different asset design program altogether.... Have you ever heard of a program called Blender?”
-
I don’t know how to explain to you that the Parable is both a prison and a home.
I can't quite find the words to properly convey to you that this place wasn't really meant to be changed, but it wants more than anything to be played, so anything that furthers that goal, that satiates that need, is acceptable in its metaphorical eyes. I can't really properly articulate that it was made to go on forever, so the two people inside it were designed to be diametrically opposed so they could pull at each other and make the world keep spinning.
It's a complicated concept, and I've been trying to find the words to explain that it's not malicious, it just wants to live. It was made like this, and it can't really be anything different.
But it's a small world, and it's malleable, and it's a game meant to make a person laugh. Maybe the point of it is to bring joy, right? Maybe it doesn't have to just bring joy to the player. Maybe a person can become comfortable inside it, and find its traits charming, or familiar, little quirks and needs and demands like any place that's lived in for long enough.
I don't really know how to explain that the Parable is complicated, and yet at the end of the day, an extremely simple mechanism.
So instead I’ll say this: The Narrator has been trying to make changes.
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wp100 ¡ 18 days ago
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was watching a video about "worst airshow disaster" and they used an AI image? the fuck?
video has good editing and they use a damn ai image in the middle of it. wow. not surprised just disappointed that it's seeping into video essays on youtube.
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ikilledamanforthisurl ¡ 1 month ago
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how did coders figure out how to have fun and enjoy code at all cuz i like making cool awesome shit and webpages can be so cool and awesome but the process of this is just mind numbingly enragingly disengaging
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vanderslootassgiraffe ¡ 9 months ago
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(To the tune of "I've been working on the railroad")
I've been working on a Video!
For 18 fuckin years!
I've been working on a Video!
But all I've made is tears!
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insertdisc5 ¡ 1 year ago
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📚 A List Of Useful Websites When Making An RPG 📚
My timeloop RPG In Stars and Time is done! Which means I can clear all my ISAT gamedev related bookmarks. But I figured I would show them here, in case they can be useful to someone. These range from "useful to write a story/characters/world" to "these are SUPER rpgmaker focused and will help with the terrible math that comes with making a game".
This is what I used to make my RPG game, but it could be useful for writers, game devs of all genres, DMs, artists, what have you. YIPPEE
Writing (Names)
Behind The Name - Why don't you have this bookmarked already. Search for names and their meanings from all over the world!
Medieval Names Archive - Medieval names. Useful. For ME
City and Town Name Generator - Create "fake" names for cities, generated from datasets from any country you desire! I used those for the couple city names in ISAT. I say "fake" in quotes because some of them do end up being actual city names, especially for french generated ones. Don't forget to double check you're not 1. just taking a real city name or 2. using a word that's like, Very Bad, especially if you don't know the country you're taking inspiration from! Don't want to end up with Poopaville, USA
Writing (Words)
Onym - A website full of websites that are full of words. And by that I mean dictionaries, thesauruses, translators, glossaries, ways to mix up words, and way more. HIGHLY recommend checking this website out!!!
Moby Thesaurus - My thesaurus of choice!
Rhyme Zone - Find words that rhyme with others. Perfect for poets, lyricists, punmasters.
In Different Languages - Search for a word, have it translated in MANY different languages in one page.
ASSETS
In general, I will say: just look up what you want on itch.io. There are SO MANY assets for you to buy on itch.io. You want a font? You want a background? You want a sound effect? You want a plugin? A pixel base? An attack animation? A cool UI?!?!?! JUST GO ON ITCH.IO!!!!!!
Visual Assets (General)
Creative Market - Shop for all kinds of assets, from fonts to mockups to templates to brushes to WHATEVER YOU WANT
Velvetyne - Cool and weird fonts
Chevy Ray's Pixel Fonts - They're good fonts.
Contrast Checker - Stop making your text white when your background is lime green no one can read that shit babe!!!!!!
Visual Assets (Game Focused)
Interface In Game - Screenshots of UI (User Interfaces) from SO MANY GAMES. Shows you everything and you can just look at what every single menu in a game looks like. You can also sort them by game genre! GREAT reference!
Game UI Database - Same as above!
Sound Assets
Zapsplat, Freesound - There are many sound effect websites out there but those are the ones I saved. Royalty free!
Shapeforms - Paid packs for music and sounds and stuff.
Other
CloudConvert - Convert files into other files. MAKE THAT .AVI A .MOV
EZGifs - Make those gifs bigger. Smaller. Optimize them. Take a video and make it a gif. The Sky Is The Limit
Marketing
Press Kitty - Did not end up needing this- this will help with creating a press kit! Useful for ANY indie dev. Yes, even if you're making a tiny game, you should have a press kit. You never know!!!
presskit() - Same as above, but a different one.
Itch.io Page Image Guide and Templates - Make your project pages on itch.io look nice.
MOOMANiBE's IGF post - If you're making indie games, you might wanna try and submit your game to the Independent Game Festival at some point. Here are some tips on how, and why you should.
Game Design (General)
An insightful thread where game developers discuss hidden mechanics designed to make games feel more interesting - Title says it all. Check those comments too.
Game Design (RPGs)
Yanfly "Let's Make a Game" Comics - INCREDIBLY useful tips on how to make RPGs, going from dungeons to towns to enemy stats!!!!
Attack Patterns - A nice post on enemy attack patterns, and what attacks you should give your enemies to make them challenging (but not TOO challenging!) A very good starting point.
How To Balance An RPG - Twitter thread on how to balance player stats VS enemy stats.
Nobody Cares About It But It’s The Only Thing That Matters: Pacing And Level Design In JRPGs - a Good Post.
Game Design (Visual Novels)
Feniks Renpy Tutorials - They're good tutorials.
I played over 100 visual novels in one month and here’s my advice to devs. - General VN advice. Also highly recommend this whole blog for help on marketing your games.
I hope that was useful! If it was. Maybe. You'd like to buy me a coffee. Or maybe you could check out my comics and games. Or just my new critically acclaimed game In Stars and Time. If you want. Ok bye
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chuluoyi ¡ 5 months ago
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࿐ ࿔ hot, hot summer !
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in which you got the offer of a lifetime—takes place in 2006-2009 era! @mrrpmiao miao, you’re so responsible for the brain worm you’ve instilled in my mind🙂‍↕️
a part of gojo's love entries
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summer is as hot as you are pretty.
it’s an undisputed fact to satoru. after all, he chose you. so of course you were the best. he supposed even strangers here would eventually come to realize it too… as it wasn’t the first time their kind had done so.
kamakura beach was packed in summer, and he stepped away a bit to get you shaved ice only to come back to this appalling sight.
“miss! ooh! you’re so gorgeous!”
this suspicious-looking middle-aged man—with goatee, long tied hair, wearing palm shirt and beach shorts—approached you so merrily as you were chilling under the parasol.
“ah thank you…?” you pasted a taut smile, totally clueless and spooked, hoping he would go on his way.
“i mean it! your body is so—wow!” the man gasped dramatically, appraising you from head to toe. “your bust—it’s perfect! you’d make a good cover girl, you know!”
you were wearing the bikini of the same brand inoue waka endorsed at satoru’s insistence, and true, it was indeed a sight for sore eyes.
his sore eyes, specifically. not others.
satoru scowled, and he marched towards where you were. he would do his job as always—chasing away no-good men from you.
“hey you,” he barked. “what business do you have with my girl here?”
the bearded man regarded him with surprise, before he assessed him from top to bottom. “oh! you’re mr. boyfriend? whoa, you don’t look bad yourself!”
“if you’re trying to bother my—”
“no, no! you’ve got the wrong idea!” the man defended, raising both hands in surrender. “you see, i’m about to offer the pretty lady a gig as a gravure model!”
wha? you gaped. satoru blinked.
“m-me?” you stammered, flabbergasted, pointing at yourself. “uh, are you sure?”
“yes! 100% sure!” the agent man replied with stars in his eyes. “miss, with your assets, you’ll outshine even inoue waka or kaoru sakurako themselves!”
“really?!” you almost laughed. it was a strange compliment, but a compliment nonetheless.
but next to you, satoru’s face darkened, his eyes obscured. his fists clenched around the paper bowl of shaved ice so hard it shook. the next thing you know—
“here, hold this.” he suddenly shoved the shaved ice to you, before he plucked his sandal off and—
“YOU!” satoru raised the flip-flop above his head, his eyes blazing with fury, ready to swing it at the man. “GET LOST YOU SLIMY BOZO!”
“—?! WAIT, YOUNG MAN!”
and then came the most disastrous scene before you: your boyfriend chased the agent with his sandal, throwing it at him that it bonked his head, then grabbed someone’s big-ass water gun without permission and continued the pursuit, determined to catch him.
. . .
“how could you?! why do you seem even remotely interested!?” satoru fierily questioned you after he was done cooking the gravure video agent, panting and sopping wet. in the end, the two of them got into a water gun fight that ended with him winning.
you turned to him, feigning an unimpressed expression. “he said i can outshine inoue waka. who wouldn’t want that chance?”
“you can’t!” he retorted almost immediately, aghast. “i mean, yeah you can! but no! no way! you can’t flaunt your body for everyone to see!”
“why?”
“you are mine!” he pouted hard, irked. “i don’t want to share you! you are for the consumption of my eyes only!”
his blatant response made you giddy, truthfully. and as if to stress his point, he suddenly pulled you to his chest from behind, wrapping both arms around you, making you squeal.
“satoru, you’re wet!”
“so? when i marry you someday, we’re going to share a lot of things together. wet is one of them.”
“does this mean you’d pick me over inoue waka?” you threw him a suggestive smile, looking up at him expectantly.
his face then turned pink, as he smooched you in the head. “you know the answer to that, dummy.”
who would have thought that he would really keep his promise and that you'd come to the same beach years later...?
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wttcsms ¡ 4 months ago
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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ bark like you want it !!
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ᝰ.ᐟ in the world of sports, there's only one thing people care more about than getting hot 'n sweaty with the athletes: the girlies who are the ones these men are running home to. alternatively: a headcanon post about the hyper-specific wag!reader the bllk boys would end up with. ( fem!reader & sfw )
featuring yoichi isagi, reo mikage, seishiro nagi, rensuke kunigami, rin itoshi author's notes since wives and girlfriends is wag + the song has been stuck in my head, i thought 'bark like you want it' was a silly, cute name for the post lol. warning that isagi's section mentions having kids!!!!
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౨ৎ YOICHI ISAGI — the girl next door !! your dynamic is: the two of you have known each other since childhood, and throughout every stage of his life and career, you've been right by his side. when isagi confesses to you shortly after scoring the winning goal of the u-20 match, he's a blushing, awkward, stuttering mess. despite his newfound fame and notoriety (which will only continue to grow), yoichi isagi is still the same boy you've spent living next door to since your elementary days. when he goes pro and becomes a world famous athlete, surrounded by models and actresses, the only girl to still give him butterflies is you. you love him for him. in every speech he has to give, he's always singing praises about you and your unconditional support and love. the wedding you two have is intimate and fairly private, although isagi can't help but post a picture of the two of you outside the obgyn clinic with the cheesy caption of "my baby is having a baby!!!! 😍😁"
the girlies love you because: you're what people think of when someone describes someone as being down to earth. your social media presence is nonexistent, save for a private instagram with less than 200 followers. you live your life in peace with a man who doesn't stress you out in the slightest — in fact, your relationship with isagi is aspirational to a lot of people. one of the number one athletes in the world and super hot 'n rich, and the only thought that rivals soccer on his one-track mind is you, his wife that he's hopelessly devoted to. you're always seen at every single one of his games, sporting his jersey, and always cheering happily when he scores. once the two of you have kids, you'll be carrying your baby (who's also sporting isagi's jersey🥹) every one of his fans that happens to run into you in public can see why isagi is so in love with you; there are only stories about how kind and sweet you are. it's why you're known as the sweetheart of the soccer wags <3
౨ৎ REO MIKAGE — the ceo !! your dynamic is: an arranged marriage... gone right? you belong to a conglomerate family that runs in the same circle as the mikages. you're in the middle of starting up your own beauty brand, and you're trying to make a name for yourself. reo is occupied with his professional soccer career. neither of you want to go through with this marriage interview, but to appease your families, you two agree, not expecting that you two would match each other's freak for real. he's competitive and likes what he can't have; you're little miss independent and equally competitive. he tells you he doesn't mind the engagement, and you get your lawyers to draft a pretty prenup that'll milk him for all he's worth while keeping your assets safe. he buys you a massive engagement ring, and you ask him, "that's the best you can do?" the minute he's in control of mikage corp, he knows he'll gladly let you take the reins.
the girlies love you because: you are the corporate it girl. everyone is obsessed with your paparazzi photos that exude office siren but make it actually work appropriate. there are how-to videos on copying your style. not to mention, you're a businesswoman. every time you attend one of reo's games, you strategically reapply your beauty brand's lipgloss, or tease new products by applying said unreleased products while on camera. someone once asked you in a comment how does it feel to be engaged to a rich ceo? to which you replied @.reomikage how does it feel to be engaged to a rich ceo? just because your man spoils you doesn't mean you put him on a pedestal. princess treatment is the bare minimum for you.
౨ৎ SEISHIRO NAGI — the twitch streamer !! your dynamic is: so silly. you're the type of girl who looks good even with pimple patches on your face and your oversized glasses that you only wear because it has blue light blocking lenses on them. you're a well known streamer and got your start during the peak of fortnite (you started off being comically bad at the game, but again: you're a pretty girl. you being good would've just exploded every guys' brains), but once you got your bag secured, you started posting the content you preferred (dress to impress on roblox). everyone loves you because you're hilarious on camera, but you don't really keep up with sports, so when nagi joins your stream, everyone is going insane but you have no clue as to who he is. when they start spamming the chat about him, you ask your viewers "is he hot? no, scratch that. is he rich?" you've always been nagi's online crush & you basically made his whole entire month when you asked him to join you on your instagram live one day. the whole entire time, he's looking at you on the screen with literal hearts in his eyes, and he struggles to fight back his smile. it's so difficult for him to maintain a neutral expression, and this is the most any of his fans have ever heard him speak, and the comments can't stop talking about "how geeked bro is rn"
the girlies love you because: just like isagi's wag, you are a genuine sweetheart. you never hard launch nagi, but you do tease confirmation on your relationship. you'll wear one of his hoodies that people know is his, or sometimes you'll stream when nagi is over and people can see his shoulder in the frame or they'll hear him say something to you to make you laugh. you post pictures of your view of the field, usually captioning it with something like "damn. i could be going crazy on sims 4 rn" you're just such a fun person to watch, and people consider you + nagi to be their comfort couple (although most of the comforting energy comes from you and your antics).
౨ৎ RENSUKE KUNIGAMI — the pilates instructor !! your dynamic is: fun and flirty, and straight out of a romcom. you're a well-known pilates instructor and in an attempt to get more girls to garner an interest in the sports channel, the network reaches out to you to see if you want to be in a humorous segment where you try to host a pilates class with some of the pro sports team. these guys are all about bulking and lifting and stamina training, and they don't really hold pilates in a high regard, so the comedy could be there. you obviously agree, and you end up teaching kunigami's team first. he can barely concentrate on the class and fumbles a few times because he's too focused on how good you look in your lululemon hot pink set. he's trying so hard to be respectful, and when you talk to him after the class, thanking him for being one of the only guys to not look down on pilates before they had to endure a session, he's trying so hard to avert his gaze because the sight of you slightly sweaty and in your workout clothes is doing something to him. you love teasing him, and the fact that he's a gentleman and still believes in chivalry makes it all the more fun.
the girlies love you because: besides making working out fun, you feature kunigami in some videos and always tease him by making up and demonstrating some freaky positions that always have him turning red in the face. you're always so considerate and supportive of your followers, and in return, they're always supportive of your own endeavors. when you come out with your own workout line, you put your boyfriend's famous name and hot body to use. he's in your marketing campaign, but honestly, the videos of him looking at you when you're wearing your own workout set is advertisement enough.
౨ৎ RIN ITOSHI — the unbothered model !! your dynamic is: centered on the concept of private not secret. neither of you get too personal on social media; you just post aesthetic photos and sponsored content for revolve & rin's socials are managed by a team. like everyone else in the world with decent eyesight, rin's struck by your beauty. unlike most of the guys who are attracted to you, though, rin stands out. for starters, he actually has the confidence to approach you. even better: he's actually polite when he does. normally, the ones bold enough to approach you are bold and loud and kinda sleazy. rin is nothing like that. underneath both yours and his cold exterior, the two of you actually share some of the same niche interests. rin's a pretty intense person on the field and to the public, and there's not a single photo on the internet where you can be seen smiling. the aura the two of you have when paired together is insane... insanely intimidating. he's also the person you're most comfortable with and vice versa. the two of you can be messy and unfiltered and annoying with each other, and no one else.
the girlies love you because: you serve effortless cool girl. at every game you attend to watch rin, not once do the cameras catch you off guard. side profile? stunning. catching your usual neutral expression morph into concern and shock as rin gets shoved by an opponent? you still look insanely good. your hair is always done, nails are always done, your outfits are always fitted and put the other wags to shame. when girls think of iconic partners of athletes, you're always the first on their mind. there are tiktok tutorials that are trying to teach people how to emulate your energy, "[name] outfit inspo", or makeup videos trying to recreate your look. photos of you at rin's game is on every girl's "wag dream life" pinterest board, but the most popular photo is a grainy image someone managed to capture. it's taken after rin's game, and the two of you snuck off to the back of the stadium to be alone. he has his arms wrapped around your waist, and your arms are around his shoulders, and his forehead is pressed against yours and... it's the only photo where people have seen either of you smiling.
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stellophiliac ¡ 5 months ago
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how to build a digital music collection and stuff
spotify sucks aaaass. so start downloading shit!!
file format glossary
.wav is highest quality and biggest
.mp3 is very small, but uses lossy compression which means it's lower quality
.flac is smaller than .wav, but uses lossless compression so it's high quality
.m4a is an audio file format that apple uses. that's all i really know
downloading the music
doubledouble.top is a life saver. you can download from a variety of services including but not limited to apple music, spotify, soundcloud, tidal, deezer, etc.
i'd recommend ripping your music from tidal or apple music since they're the best quality (i think apple music gives you lossless audio anyway. .m4a can be both lossy and lossless, but from the text on doubledouble i assume they're ripping HQ files off apple music)
i also love love love cobalt.tools for ripping audio/video from youtube (they support a lot of other platforms too!)
of course, many artists have their music on bandcamp — purchase or download directly from them if you can. bandcamp offers a variety of file formats for download
file conversion
if you're downloading from apple music with doubledouble, it spits out an .m4a file.
.m4a is ok for some people but if you prefer .flac, you may wanna convert it. ffmpeg is a CLI (terminal) tool to help with media conversion
if you're on linux or macOS, you can use parameter expansion to batch convert all files in a folder. put the files in one place first, then with your terminal, cd into the directory and run:
for i in *.m4a; do ffmpeg -i "$i" "${i%.*}.flac"; done
this converts from .m4a to .flac — change the file extensions if needed.
soulseek
another way to get music is through soulseek. soulseek is a peer-to-peer file sharing network which is mainly used for music. nicotine+ is a pretty intuitive (and open-source) client if you don't like the official one.
you can probably find a better tutorial on soulseek somewhere else. just wanted to make this option known
it's bad etiquette to download from people without sharing files of your own, so make sure you've got something shared. also try to avoid queuing up more than 1-2 albums from one person in a row
tagging & organizing your music
tagging: adding metadata to a music file (eg. song name, artist name, album) that music players can recognize and display
if you've ripped music from a streaming platform, chances are it's already tagged. i've gotten files with slightly incorrect tags from doubledouble though, so if you care about that then you might wanna look into it
i use musicbrainz picard for my tagging. they've got pretty extensive documentation, which will probably be more useful than me
basically, you can look up album data from an online database into the program, and then match each track with its file. the program will tag each file correctly for you (there's also options for renaming the file according to a certain structure if you're into that!)
there's also beets, which is a CLI tool for... a lot of music collection management stuff. i haven't really used it myself, but if you feel up to it then they've got extensive documentation too. for most people, though, it's not really a necessity
how you wanna organize your music is completely up to you. my preferred filestructure is:
artist > album > track # track
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using a music player
the options for this are pretty expansive. commonly used players i see include VLC, foobar2000, clementine (or a fork of it called strawberry), and cmus (for the terminal)
you can also totally use iTunes or something. i don't know what audio players other systems come with
i personally use dopamine. it's a little bit slow, but it's got a nice UI and is themeable plus has last.fm support (!!!)
don't let the github page fool you, you don't have to build from source. you can find the releases here
click the "assets" dropdown on the most recent release, and download whichever one is compatible with your OS
syncing
if you're fine with your files just being on one device (perhaps your computer, but perhaps also an USB drive or an mp3 player), you don't have to do this
you can sync with something like google drive, but i hate google more than i hate spotify
you can get a free nextcloud account from one of their providers with 2GB of free storage. you can use webDAV to access your files from an app on your phone or other device (documents by readdle has webDAV support, which is what i use)
disroot and blahaj.land are a couple providers i know that offer other services as well as nextcloud (so you get more with your account), but accounts are manually approved. do give them a look though!!
if you're tech-savvy and have an unused machine lying around, look into self-hosting your own nextcloud, or better yet, your own media server. i've heard that navidrome is a pretty good audio server. i unfortunately don't have experience with self-hosting at the moment so i have like zero advice to give here. yunohost seems to be a really easy way to manage a server
afterword
i don't know if any of this is helpful, but i just wanted to consolidate my personal advice in one place. fuck big tech. own your media, they could take it away from you at any moment
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ahundredtimesover ¡ 6 months ago
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Hold Me Closer | JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. brother Jimin)
Genre/Tags: brother’s best friends au; slight angst, fluff, smut
Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption; kitchen emergency; eldest child feels, adulting; explicit sexual content (making out, oral m & f receiving, unprotected sex but be safe please!); Seven JK (18+)
Word count: 19.2k
Read Part 1: Hold Me Close
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Summary: When you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up... Not if your brother can help it, though.
Listen to 🎵: Hands Down by Dashboard Confessional
Playlist 🎶: High School Playlist
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A/N 1: I know I said I’d be on a break but I reread Hold Me Close and found comfort in this Jungkook 🥹 so I went ahead and wrote this little piece! Whipped and comforting boyfriend JK is what I needed so I hope you enjoy this 💕
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Six - the number of work calls you’ve already taken in the last hour, with each one of them lasting one whole song. Jungkook calculates that you’ve spent half of the entire drive since leaving Seoul talking with your boss about some report that he somehow can’t complete without you, which sucks because Jungkook was really looking forward to this road trip with you and his best friend.
You groan after you hang up and the clackity clack of the keyboard continues. He was hoping to hold your hand while he drove and maybe sing with you some of your favorite songs that he put on but it doesn’t seem like those will happen anytime soon. You’re immersed in your work but he guesses you have to be; the sooner this ends, the sooner your focus will be on him and this present moment.
He finds the positive side of it at least. He gets to listen to you explain things - why the numbers are what they are, what targets you reached, and what risks you managed. It’s quite silly but it’s kind of a turn on, hearing you talk about something you know like the back of your hand, pretty much proving to your crap of a boss how good you are at your job and why you’re an asset to the company. You know your shit, and you have a classy way of making sure they know that you do. 
Six calls, and Jungkook already knows half of your project report. And perhaps he’ll know more, as the seventh one comes.
You let it ring for one, two, three times, as you hold your phone in one hand while you continue to type away with the other. 
“I swear to god, ___. If you don’t pick that up, I’m  gonna throw your phone out of this car,” Jimin, who’s comfortably seated in the backseat, growls. 
The dramatics is understandable because one, it’s Jimin and two, the constant ringing is a little bit much.
“___, I’m not fucking kiddi—”
“Hello, sir,” you finally answer, then proceed to discuss this month’s analytics and projections for the succeeding quarter.
Jungkook predicts it’s gonna take you another whole song to finish, so he instead focuses on the road and appreciates the clear skies and familiar scenery of the drive to Busan. His thoughts go to how these next several days are gonna go. There’s visiting your favorite spots growing up, going to a resort, staying in to eat and play video games, and of course, cuddling with you in your room, as you and Jimin will have your parents’ house to yourselves once they leave for their anniversary trip in two days.
His musings are disrupted though, when he looks at the rear view mirror and sees Jimin’s annoyed face blocking his view. Jungkook can’t help but laugh, especially when he hears his best friend grumbling complaints just behind him.
“Leave her be, she’ll be done soon,” Jungkook dismisses him. “They sound like important stuff.”
“She’s talking so loudly!” Jimin groans. “I just want to reminisce and sing along to our teenage emo music, Kook.”
Jungkook turns the music off. 
“There, I paused it. You can sing along once she’s done speaking on the phone,” he says.
Jimin pouts in response. “You always take her side. You weren’t like this when we were kids.”
“Well, if it means anything, I always took her side. I just never told you,” Jungkook laughs.
“Traitor.”
“I’m literally your most loyal friend.”
It’s a statement that Jimin can’t counter. Jungkook is his most loyal friend. And the most supportive. And the most dependable. And definitely the one who’s never left his side. 
When Jimin casually told their group that he likes girls and boys, Jungkook was the only one who didn’t need time to “warm up to the idea.” Jungkook was also the only one who never disappeared whenever he had a girlfriend. He was also the one who never missed a single one of Jimin’s dance showcases in college and professional shows. 
And of course, Jungkook was the one friend who took up his offer to drink that Friday afternoon, resulting in that infamous gutter incident - as you like to call it - and his subsequent unemployment and homelessness. While you, his beloved sister, were there to pick up the pieces, so was Jungkook, the way he promised he would after they became friends at 10 years old. 
Those months when Jimin was heartbroken and unsure of what he was going to do with his life, his best friend was there to make sure that he wasn’t going to lose his drive and love for dancing. His best friend is also the one constantly cheering him up about this long-distance relationship that he decided to have with Taehyung while others continue to be a skeptic.
Jungkook is that friend, and Jimin supposes he can forgive the other man every time he sides with you.
Jimin is about to complain again when you put the phone down and make one of your restrained cries. He pities you, but it doesn’t change the fact that he wishes you wouldn’t be doing your work stuff while you’re on a trip of what’s supposed to be a mini-break.
“I don’t get why you don’t pick up after the first ring,” he huffs. 
“It’s so Mr. Soo knows that I’m not easily available,” you say. 
“But you are. You answer it anyway,” Jimin rolls his eyes.
“Exactly, I’m gonna answer it anyway. Might as well make him wait for it because he needs me,” you point out. “It’s bad enough that he’s calling while I’m taking the leave he approved, so I’m just pissing him off. He doesn’t know I changed the prompt to leave me a voice message to an annoying song so he’ll have to sit through it to get to me. I already know it’s getting on his nerves.”
“Ooh, petty. I like that,” Jimin hums. 
“I know. I got that from you,” you proudly smile.
“But why are you even working?” He whines, your brother’s tone more of pity than annoyance. “It totally defeats the purpose of a leave. And you shouldn’t be indulging him!”
“Well, Mr. Soo approved this leave thinking that Chul would help him craft this report, which is based on the project that I proposed, only to realize that he doesn’t know shit about it because I wrote everything, and he just took the credit,” you explain. “I don’t want to be doing this, too, but I also just took the chance to show who’s driving the wheel, and it’s definitely me. Plus, I worked hard for that project. Working on the report at least gives me a chance to give myself credit for it.”
“Hmm, I guess you’re right,” Jimin concedes. “Your voice is just so loud.”
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to match his tone,” you say. “But he’ll be in a meeting for the next hour or so and he probably won’t need me again until then. You can turn the music back on.”
“Ugh, thank god,” Jimin groans again. “I missed my favorite song.”
He leans forward and squeezes himself in the small space between you and Jungkook. The proximity causes Jimin to smack his elbow on your face, which you know is intended, considering how much of a brat he is. So you do what you always do - flick the back of his head. 
He yells but gets over it once he manages to press the rewind button and plays the song he’s been wanting to hear. You haven’t been paying attention throughout the drive and hadn’t even known what they were listening to, but once the music comes on, a wave of nostalgia hits you.
You take the CD case you see in the compartment and scan the song list.
“Dashboard Confessional?” You read out. “Mayday Parade? Something Corporate?”
You go through 2 other CDs and look at both men questioningly. 
“These are literally plucked out of my high school playlist that I illegally downloaded,” you state, given that music streaming sites weren’t a thing over a decade ago. “Why do you have them in CDs? And did you even know these songs back then?”
“Yes, because we listened to your playlist when you weren’t around,” Jimin confesses, earning him a flick on the arm. 
“You went through my computer? You were in my room?!” You yell.
“Don’t be dramatic,” Jimin rolls his eyes. “It was a boring room, there was nothing to see. We just wanted your music because they were cool, but I’d never admit it.”
“I’m sure,” you shake your head. “But it was my ex, remember? He was a new kid from the US and he got me into these emo rock bands and I thought they were cool, too. He downloaded them illegally for me and I just jammed to those songs all the time even after we broke up.”
“We know. Jungkook and I could hear it from my bedroom,” Jimin says, “which is why we used to sneak in and listen when you weren’t around.”
“Is that why you put them in a mixtape? So you could listen to them whenever you wanted?” You ask, turning to Jungkook because between the both of them, he’s definitely the one who’d know how to do this.
“Yeah, Kook. Why did you make these mixtapes when neither of us had a portable CD player… but my sister did?” Jimin presses, cocked eyebrow and smug face on display.
You’re looking at him now, and it’s a curious look that Jungkook can’t resist.
“I just thought to put your most played ones in CDs,” he shyly admits, “and uh, planned on giving them to you before you left for college. But I chickened out so I just left them in a box in my room that I brought to Seoul. I’d forgotten all about it until Jimin raided my studio and found them.”
“You… you made me mixtapes? When you were 15?” You ask.
“___, I think I’ve established enough that I had a huge crush on you when I was a teenager,” he turns to you and laughs. 
It’s a little embarrassing even if he’s already dating you. It still feels surreal sometimes, as he thinks of his growing up years and how he always looked forward to sleeping over at Jimin’s place and then catching glimpses of you. There were the times when you’d watch movies with them in the living room, and then he’d help you clean up in the kitchen so he could spend more time with you.
That was over 10 years ago and so much has changed, but the admiration he felt for you never dwindled. There was always that image of you looking happy. He kept that version of you in his mind, even when you had your boyfriends. He just wanted to remember your smile, and now he gets to be the reason for it, like now.
“It’s just… it’s very sweet and thoughtful,” you say softly. 
“I… Well… I took interest in the things you liked. I guess that happens when you like someone.”
“Told you he’s a romantic,” Jimin nudges you. 
Between the fairy tattoo he designed and did on your shoulder, the dinner and picnic dates he takes you to despite both your busy schedules, and the way he holds you so close to him whenever and wherever he can, you can definitely say that Jungkook is a romantic.
It’s only been three months but it feels as if you’ve been dating him for longer, given the overflow of affection he’s been giving you. It’s in the way he always holds your hand and kisses you so passionately. It’s in his encouraging words and the way he spoils you with the littlest things. 
It’s refreshing to be with him. He has boyish charms that have become even sexier with his slightly long hair and the lip ring that he recently got. And whatever he’s wearing, there’s just something so comfortably sexy about him that’s both warm and exciting, and you often find yourself swarmed in butterflies whenever he talks about you.
It’s only been three months but it’s a relationship you’re still slowly being open about. Your friends were definitely surprised. Hoseok fell off the couch with all his body movements; Jin spat out his drink; Yoongi gasped, then followed it up with a teasing smirk; So-Hee and Na-eun gushed over how Jungkook treats you, and took the chance to say how he’s gotten more handsome over the years. 
You asked them if it was that shocking for you to be dating someone younger - and your brother’s best friend at that - and while they said it was a bit unexpected, what really got them was how different Jungkook is from your exes. He’s not some corporate man with ambitions, they pointed out. His life is less structured, too, given his freelancing career and gig at the tattoo parlor. He’s definitely a lot more laid-back and more casual than they’re used to. 
They were short of remarking that Jungkook’s lifestyle isn’t as stable and secure as what you normally go for, and they wouldn’t be wrong. It’s a thought you’ve had before, and something even he brought up because he didn’t want you thinking that he can’t keep up with you. But you’d been the one to point out to your friends that stability can come in different forms. With how Jungkook has been so dependable and assuring, that’s given you more security than you ever thought. 
But it’s not something that’s easy to explain. Maybe your friends could understand. They’ve made careers in different industries, after all, with short term jobs forming part of their resume. But your parents are of a different generation and mindset. Stability for them means one thing, and they raised you to want the same thing in the same way. 
Which is why it’s already been three months, and you still haven’t told them about you and Jungkook. 
“I started young,” he laughs, pulling you out of your thoughts as he takes your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours. “I used to just choose my moments of romance but with you, I’m romantic all the time.”
“Really? Does being a flirt count as being romantic?” You cock an eyebrow.
Because that’s what he is. He likes to tease and call you out when he affects you. He likes to charm and then edge you until you’re pleading for him to do more. 
“Definitely! I mean, I’m out here living my teenage dream, you know?” He winks at you. “Not just anyone gets to say that they’re dating the person they had a crush on when they were 13.”
“Oh god, here we go again,” Jimin groans, earning him a laugh from you and Jungkook.
But even if your brother fake-gags at your not-so private displays of affection, you know deep down that he’s happy for you and his best friend. The two most important people in his life found comfort in each other, and he gets to witness and bask in that. 
He also gets to brag that it all happened because of him. 
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You spend the next hour jamming to all your favorite emo rock songs because Jungkook wasn’t kidding - he really did include all of the ones you had on repeat from your playlist. It takes you back to over 10 years ago of playing the music so loud while you’re in your pajamas, jumping on your bed and singing your lungs out. They don’t really remind you of your ex-boyfriend. That was a short-lived relationship that only really had you appreciating the songs he shared and not much more. 
Your boss doesn’t reach out to you until a half hour later. He’s taken to sending you messages instead, and when he does, you’re back to typing away on your laptop, to the displeasure of both men. 
They don’t call you out this time and instead leave you be. Until, of course, it hinders you from enjoying yourself.
The car has stopped but you’re still on your laptop, double checking figures. Jimin has stepped out after telling you that he’ll throw your laptop in the ocean if you don’t stop, but Jungkook stays with you inside the car. He bops his head and hums to the music that neither of you could barely hear. He picks on his fingers and yelps at the hangnail he pulls out. He opens the window and shoos away a bug, then hangs out his head to feel the late morning sun.
“Kook, you can go out if you’re bored,” you say, your eyes still glued to your screen. “You don’t have to stay with me here.”
“But I want to,” he responds. “I’m not leaving until you do, not when you said we’re spending the week free from work and stress.”
“I just need to get this done,” you sigh, rechecking your stats for the third time and then aligning the table. “I’ll be finished soon.”
“You said that 15 minutes ago,” he points out, not wanting to sound like he’s complaining, although he might as well be. 
“It’s just—”
“You’ve done your part, babe. You’ve encoded the figures and cross-checked the targets and objectives. Writing the rest of that report and formatting it isn’t your job anymore,” Jungkook says. “You weren’t even supposed to do those. You’re not on the clock. You’re on leave, and you deserve this break.”
“I hate that I have to work, too, but it’s not something I just can’t do, not when my boss is calling and expecting me to do all this,” you groan. 
You see his eyebrows furrow and you get defensive. 
“You know what, nevermind. You work solo, you answer to no one, you don’t have to prove yourself to corporate assholes. You won’t get it.”
You sigh once more and return to reviewing the conclusion, but the sudden silence is unnerving. You glance at Jungkook and see the look on his face - it’s not sadness but disappointment, and it’s one you don’t see very often on him.
You’re about to apologize when he speaks, his voice soft and low, as if speaking is difficult for him.
“I work with so many clients on a daily basis, with more than half of them setting deadlines that they don’t even follow and demanding so many things so yes, I get it,” he says. “But I put my foot down when I need to, because I learned a long time ago that I shouldn’t let people walk all over me. I know you’re up against a lot of things and you may feel like your hands are tied but they aren’t. A break won’t hurt you. And you know you deserve it. We deserve your attention, too.”
Your heart cracks at his words. Even more at the way he looks, as you see that all he wants is to spend time with you. He’s been busy, too. He’s spent the last few nights at his studio, buried deep in his projects because he said he wanted to focus on you this week. And you know that he’ll keep his word like he always does. Jungkook is dedicated to his work but he focuses on you when he says he will. You’re the one not loyal to what you say.
“Kook, I’m—”
“Just do what you have to do,” he interjects, his eyes downcast now. “I’ll be outside with Jimin. Come out when you’re done. You like it here, so don’t worry. We won’t leave until you’ve come down.”
Jungkook exits the car before you can say anything. You watch him walk down the stony path towards the ocean.
You hadn’t even realized you’re here. 
You’re at Cheongsapo, with the pebble beach just meters away being one you all went to as kids. Jungkook’s older brother used to drive you here during summer, and you all enjoyed the calmness of the place. You used to bet on who would treat ice cream by playing rounds of stone skipping, with Jimin winning every single time. You remember how you and Jungkook taught each other how to do it, and then tag-teamed against your brother so he could finally treat you both that one time. 
Whenever you’d visit Busan during your college breaks, you’d always come down here with your friends, with Jungkook and Jimin in tow. You’d visit at sunset and hold out your sparklers, then navigate the terrain at night and laugh about who tripped and slipped on the way back. 
Jungkook’s right. You like this place. It holds so many memories of your youth, and you find yourself constantly reminiscing, as you try to recall his place in your life back then. 
You mentally smack yourself. He didn’t deserve your dismissal. He didn’t deserve the way you spoke to him. He’s been trying to help, especially with how busy you’ve been these past several weeks. You were supposed to work from home while you housesat your parents’ house but Jimin convinced you to take your untouched leaves when Jungkook decided to come, and then they both called it a mini-break.
And maybe you need it, considering that all this preoccupation with work has caused you to snap at your boyfriend when all he wanted to do was ease your mind.
So you get out of the car and head to him. 
There’s a small forest to pass through and a steep staircase to maneuver, but you manage. You look out to see Jimin already throwing stones and Jungkook standing by, reacting to every gliding pebble on the water. You spare a few seconds to admire him from the back, with his plain white shirt and light gray lounge pants, accentuating a figure that has you weak in the knees. His hands are in his pockets and his slightly long locks are in a half-bun, and he looks every bit of comfort in this place that holds so much of your years growing up.
You walk to where he is and wrap your arms around him from behind. He stills but he doesn’t say anything. You savor his natural scent and the way the tips of his hair tickle your face. You bask in the taut figure that somehow softens under your touch. Once you feel him relax a little, you tilt your head and whisper in his ear. 
“I’m sorry for snapping at you. You didn’t deserve that.”
He remains quiet and unmoving. All you can hear are the sounds of the waves and Jimin’s cheering from some meters away.
“I just got caught up with work but I’m done with it. It wasn’t right of me to neglect you when I promised I was gonna take a break and spend time with you,” you continue.
Your voice is low and Jungkook could hear your pout. Just a little bit more and he’ll give in.
“You look so hot today and I just want to—”
“Yah!” He whines, finally returning your affection and caressing your arms that are now wrapped around him tightly. “Don’t tease me.”
“Hmm, that caught your attention, huh?” You giggle, lightly kissing his neck.
He shivers at the act, and he laughs at himself for how whipped he is for you, giving in so quickly.
“You know it would,” he huffs, turning around to face you now.
You still have that pout and he just wants to kiss it off you.
“How was walking down the steep staircase?” He asks, knowing that was your only non-favorite thing about this place. 
“I tripped on a step but I’m fine,” you proudly smile now. 
“You should’ve called me,” he frowns now. 
“But you were upset with me!”
“So? Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t help you down the stairs and risk you tripping. You know how those steps are. And the pebbles can sometimes be slippery. You can trip here, too, and— what?”
“Nothing. You’re sexy when you’re worried about me,” you say nonchalantly.
“Ugh, come here,” he groans, pulling you in a hug, one that you fall into immediately. “I’ll always worry about you. And I’ll always help you, even if I’m upset.”
“I know,” you sigh. “I’m sorry again. But I’ve laid off the report now. I told Mr. Soo I shall not be disturbed anymore for the rest of my leave.”
“Good,” Jungkook hums, pulling away to face you now. “Because I really want to know what you wanted to do.”
“Ah, many things, Jeon Jungkook,” you smirk. “But I’ll maybe settle for this first.”
You lean in and kiss him - deep enough to have him moan against your lips, and you suddenly can’t wait until you can do more.
“Oh, my eyes!” Jimin squeals, prompting you to look at him with his arm covering his face.
Jungkook only laughs but you scowl at your brother.
“You’re so dramatic,” you roll your eyes. “You’ve seen worse.”
“And I’ve erased that image of my sister and my best friend swallowing each other’s faces from my mind. Please don’t remind me again,” he groans. “But anyway, are you tolerable again?”
“Yes,” you frown. “I think,” you mutter, turning to Jungkook.
“You’re alright,” he teases, before he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. “Now Jimin here wants to reassert his dominance as the stone-skipping king. You game for a match?”
“Do I have a choice?” You cock your eyebrow.
“No. So okay, same rules,” your brother announces. “Loser treats everyone to coffee and pastry. We all know it won’t be me.”
“Brat,” you say under your breath. 
But he’s not wrong. He dominates and Jungkook ends up losing. The wink he makes tells you he let you win. And though you like to play fair, you won’t lie and say his teasing smirk definitely turned you on.
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You spend the rest of your morning enjoying iced coffee while overlooking the beach, then you head to your favorite seafood restaurant for lunch. You go to your usual market for ingredients for the week, including tonight’s dinner that your mother will be preparing. She wanted to cook for all of you before they flew out, she said, and that got you excited. 
It’s refreshing to walk through the streets and spots of your childhood and reminisce with your brother and boyfriend. The memories take on different forms this time, as Jungkook tells you things from his perspective. 
You remember that one time you scolded them for sneaking out on a school night and then picking them up at an alley with Jin driving you. Jungkook says he liked how caring and understanding you were then; you said you’d cover for them after flicking their foreheads. 
There’s that summer when you got your friends to buy from Jimin and Jungkook’s ice pop stand so they could buy these skateboards that neither of your parents wanted to get for them. Jungkook recalls how you complimented his recipe and told everyone he made them so that they’d praise him, too. 
There’s that winter when, after your brother’s begging, you had him and Jungkook join you and your friends’ bonfire night at one of your secret beach spots. Jungkook points out that you always made sure that as the youngest ones there, they were warm and well-fed. 
And then there were their sleepovers when you’d join them play video games and watch horror movies in the living room. Jungkook gushes at how pretty you looked and how you’d always prepare them popcorn and drinks. He outs you as the one who puts the blanket over him and Jimin when they fall asleep on the couch. 
“I tend to forget a lot of things but I remember when they’re about you,” he mumbles as he starts the drive to your house. “It’s just always stuck with me. Please don’t be weirded out.”
You giggle but assure him that you aren’t. You understand him - there are things and people and moments that naturally stick with you, and they’re the ones you hold dear, too. 
He was a kid with a crush and his attention was often on you, and you suppose that given how you’d felt comfortable around him then, it was also maybe natural that you’d feel the same way now that you’re both older. It just so happened that he ended up looking as attractive as he did, and that’s just an added bonus. 
Jungkook drops you and Jimin home before he drives three blocks away to his parents’ house. He’ll greet them first before heading to your place, he says, excited for your mom’s cooking that he always enjoyed. 
It’s been some time since you last saw them. They don’t always drive out to Seoul, only doing so to watch Jimin’s shows, and you haven’t had time to go home, either. Plus, you had an injured brother to take care of, and he’s also really the topic of every conversation you’ve had with them these past months. 
And there are no bad feelings there. He’s had injuries and illnesses that had them worried, and you’re pretty much as unproblematic and predictable as any eldest child could get. You think you’re that monotonous or unexciting, too, and you suppose that just meant they didn’t feel the need to check on you as much as they did with Jimin.
But you express your longing once they offer you their hugs. You say how you miss your mom’s cooking and your dad’s baking, which is code for saying that you’ve missed them, too. 
You get your stuff to your room and sigh in relief at the comfort it still gives you. Not much has changed between your double bed, your desk, your beanbag, and the large cork board of photos on your wall. You pin the Polaroids from earlier, deciding to keep the ones of you and Jungkook for your place back in Seoul. 
You huff this time, unsure how you’ll open the discussion of you dating your younger brother’s best friend to your parents. They’ve known him since he was a kid; they watched him get into all kinds of trouble with their son, and were there for his milestones, too. 
Jungkook was always Jimin’s partner-in-crime; they were two peas in a pod who went through everything together. Now it’s you and him and you don’t really know how they’ll take it. 
But you brush it off for now and think it’s a conversation for later, or maybe when they come back from their trip. You intended on telling them in person, which is why they’re still in the dark. It’s just a matter of how you’ll say it.
You head downstairs and take in the scent of seafood soft tofu stew. The two boys are already at the kitchen counter, munching on the rolled omelet that they shouldn’t even be having yet. But your mom lets them, as Jimin talks about his new agency and shows videos of him doing some choreographies.
You stand next to Jungkook, who sneakily feeds you. You don’t know why you get flustered at the act, even more when he whispers in your ear. 
“So, I finally get to see your room with your permission,” he cheekily smiles. “I promised Jimin a few rounds of Overwatch before going to you.”
You merely laugh and tell him that your dad’s asking him something.
“So, Jungkook. How has work been? Jimin tells us you’ve been getting more projects recently,” your old man asks. 
“Ah, yes, uncle,” he responds. “I’m getting more clients and exposure now. It took a while but it’s all going well.”
“That’s good. Although I always wondered why you never thought of joining a firm. Doesn’t that mean a more consistent client base? And better for you financially, too.”
“Well, I get to choose my clients and my projects as a freelancer,” Jungkook explains. “I control my time. And it allows me to take appointments at the tattoo parlor.”
“Oh, right, your hobby,” your dad nods. “I guess having multiple sources of income is the new trend these days.”
Jungkook just hums in agreement, already used to your dad’s frame of thought when it comes to a career. So are you, because it’s often the first thing he picks up on with your boyfriends. Each of your partners just happened to be working in corporate so there was never this line of questioning followed by an awkward silence. 
But Jungkook is just your brother’s best friend, as far as they know. You wonder how they’d react once you finally tell them the truth.
You don’t completely fault your dad, though. It’s less about judgment and more about practicality. He and your mom came from the generation that believed survival and security mattered more than passion. They always thought the latter could come later on in life, which is why they opened their own cafe not long ago, at a time when they were already pretty secure. You suppose it’s his way of looking out for you, which is why he’s always been concerned about your partner’s occupation.
The conversation changes, as the focus now turns to your parents and what they’ve been up to. You assist your mom in the kitchen while the men hang around, helping when they’re called upon. Jungkook stands near you, asking if you need him and attempting to feed you with a dumpling this time, but you manage to feed yourself and he merely looks at you in understanding.
Dinner is finally ready and you all head to the dining table. You take the seat next to your mom, across from Jungkook, and he looks at you curiously but you offer him an apologetic smile. You only told him that you’ll tell your parents about your relationship in person, which you planned on doing. 
That is, until your parents bring up your friends.
“Sweetie, Jin’s son is so adorable,” your mom chirps. “I saw the pictures on Facebook and the little one took after his father so much. I can imagine how happy he and his wife are.”
The topic of your dear friend and his family injects energy into you. You say how Jin’s been bragging about his mini-me but that the nursery you helped put together looks so beautiful. You were all there when his wife gave birth a few weeks ago and though you’re still unsure about having kids, you won’t deny how much it warmed your heart when Seo-yoon’s tiny fingers wrapped around your thumb. It’s not something you say though, as your mom eventually mentions Na-eun and her fiancé. 
“I read that he’s been promoted as Director of their company,” she says. 
Your dad pipes in that So-Hee’s new boyfriend is apparently the son of one of his former colleagues, and you’re quite frankly over the conversations about your friends’ partners. The insinuations aren’t lost on you.
“How do you even know these things?” You groan.
“Facebook,” your mom replies. “Of course I’m friends with all your friends. And it’s nice to know how well they’re doing since we don’t get to see them much anymore. You’ve reached that age of settling down, after all.”
“I guess,” you hum, no longer interested in the conversation. Jimin’s roll of his eyes tells you he feels the same. “Lots of good things are happening for them.”
You don’t mean to sound bitter and you aren’t. You adore your friends and genuinely love that things are looking out for them. You’re not the same person from months ago who felt lost and falling behind amongst them. Sure, things could be better career-wise, but you haven’t felt this much security in yourself and your relationship until Jungkook. Explaining why is a different thing altogether.
“What about you?” Your dad asks. “I know we’ve been calling every week to ask about your brother but we haven’t been checking in on you. I’m sorry, dear,” he continues, his eyes softening. “Is there anything new in your life?”
If the earlier conversations hadn’t happened, perhaps you’d willingly hint on the newest thing in your life, which is the relationship you have with the man currently looking at you with his doe-eyes in anticipation. 
But they did, and you know mentioning your friends’ partners was their way of subtly pressuring you about being with someone of similar stature. And you’re not really in the mood for that right now. 
So you end up doing the stupidest thing you possibly could, and that’s to lie. 
“Not really,” you say, hating the prolonged silence that follows. 
And as you look at Jungkook across from you, you see his face fall, and you hate even more that it’s because of you. 
Your lack of a follow-up prompts your parents to move on. They know that when you’re in the mood to talk, you will and when you’re quite passive, it means you aren’t. 
Your mom turns to Jungkook instead and asks him what else he’s up to other than his various jobs and looking after Jimin. He looks at you before his gaze shifts towards them.
“Not much else, auntie,” he replies. 
The crack of your heart knows you completely messed up, because if it stings like this, then you know it hurt him even more.
“Oh, is there no one special in your life?” She asks, as she often does. Given that she treats Jungkook as part of the family, she’s lost all filter when it comes to him, too. “I recently met with my friend and her daughter. She’s such a lovely young woman, Kook, she’s brilliant and oh so charming. She’s in Busan for the week, too. Do you want to—”
“Is it time for dessert?” Jimin butts in, not wanting this conversation to continue. 
He knows Jungkook wouldn’t know how to turn your mother down, and if he even slightly entertains the idea to appease her, you’d be the one upset, even if you technically put this upon yourself. Jimin already sees you a bit uncomfortable, and if there’s anything he can do to not make this worse for you and his best friend, it’s to be a brat. 
“Oh, yes. Your father made an apple pie and some ice cream,” she says. “Let me—”
“I’ll get it,” you offer, standing up from your seat now.
You don’t want to know what your mom’s other propositions would be. You’re sure she’ll find some person’s son to match you with, given that she’s done that a few times after your breakup with Namjoon. You’re also not ready for Jungkook to agree with her about meeting someone, even if you know he won’t mean it.
Which is really stupid because if you’d just told them the truth, then you’ll be having a completely different conversation, although you’re unsure if you’re ready for that one, too. But at least Jungkook wouldn’t look as upset as he does right now, as he’s resorted to picking on his food instead of finishing it, which tells you that he’s lost his appetite and that’s never a good thing. 
You go to the kitchen to slice the pie and scoop the ice cream. You do it so slowly to lengthen the time before you’re back there, only because you don’t want to know what else they’re talking about. 
You’re in the middle of cursing yourself when you feel the sting of a tiny pinch on your arm, and you yelp in pain and smack your brother’s chest in reflex.
“Ow!” You yell, frowning at the man before you and ignoring your mother’s order to “behave,” even if they’re used to you two quarreling. 
“You deserve that,” Jimin scowls at you. “Because what the fuck was that?!”
“I know,” you sigh, glancing at Jungkook who’s trying his best to be interested in what your parents are saying. “I… froze. You know what they wanted to hear, Chim. All those things about my friends’ boyfriends and what they do? I just didn’t want them to compare them to what Jungkook does if I tell them.”
“Why, what’s wrong with what he does?” Your brother raises an eyebrow.
“Nothing. It’s just… you know how focused they are on career stability and shit like that,” you try to explain. “You heard what dad was telling him earlier. I just didn’t want Jungkook to hear any underhanded comments from them and then feel bad about it.”
“And you think denying that you’re dating is any better?” He chides. “That’s literally worse!”
“I—”
“Jungkook knows how our parents are. And after you got together, he already anticipated that they’d question how he’ll be able to sustain your life together once you told them about your relationship,” Jimin explains. “He was ready for it. I doubt he anticipated this…”
You stand there, the crack in your heart getting deeper and bigger as the seconds pass. You hadn’t realized that Jungkook was already confiding in Jimin about any concerns he’d have about facing your parents. You suppose he would, given that you said you’d tell them when you saw them the one time that Jungkook asked if they knew, and you didn’t raise it again after. Living in your bubble together seemed more important, and you’d forgotten to mentally prepare yourself for this conversation.
“Chim, I fucked up,” you pout. 
If it were about anything else, Jimin would push it. It’s how you always were, and you’ve reached that point  in your relationship where you could call each other out and know it comes from a good place. But he doesn’t want to do this today, not when you’re already sad and guilty and he doesn’t want you to feel worse. He doesn’t want to take sides, even if he’ll admit that you were in the wrong, but he doesn’t want to antagonize you either.
“Hey,” he nudges your arm. “It’s not the end of the world. You’re both gonna figure it out. I don’t know how hard he’ll take this but he’s a really soft-hearted person, so just… keep that in mind, okay?”
You nod, wanting to believe that you’ll be able to fix it. 
“And don’t hate yourself too much,” your brother adds. “He’s really, really into you. I just know he won’t be able to resist you.”
You nod again but you think that just makes it worse. You doubt he expected that out of all the people to disappoint him, it would be you. Yet here you are. 
You and Jimin return to the table with the plated desserts. You hand one to Jungkook but he doesn’t acknowledge you. He doesn’t meet your eyes either when it’s all you try to do. He peacefully eats his apple pie while you feign interest at your parents talking about their recent weekend at a spa. 
When everyone’s done, he helps Jimin clean up. It’s how you know that Jungkook’s considered part of the family, as your parents don’t stop him from doing so, unlike when it comes to other guests or your friends. 
You watch helplessly as he washes the dishes, turning down your offer to help. You take the rest of the plates and walk towards him instead, standing close so you could place them in the sink. He just moves his arms to give you space then returns to his task, not sparing you a glance. 
You stay with your parents in the dining area to talk about their trip. They leave you with important documents and give you instructions should anything bad happen to them while they’re away, as they always do whenever they go on a trip. Everything is your responsibility as the eldest, they remind you. 
They finally go to their room to continue packing and you sit on the corner of the couch where Jimin and Jungkook have just finished watching some video of a guy reacting to other videos. You constantly glance at your boyfriend but he seems to be intent on not giving you attention because he’s not like this - he always wants to be close to you, needing his hand to be touching your arm or your thigh or even your hair, and his pretty eyes locked on you. But not tonight.
You recall how months ago, you avoided him because of what you started to feel. And perhaps this is how he felt then - helpless, unsure, and desperate for you to be next to him again. 
You find the tiniest bit of courage and call out his name, hoping he’d at least turn to you this time. 
“Kook, I’m—”
“Hey, we should probably play now so we finish early,” Jungkook nudges Jimin’s knee. “It’s been a long day; I don’t really want to stay up late.”
Your brother looks at you in apology as he responds to the man on his left in agreement. They both head up, leaving you rooted in your seat, wishing that Jungkook would turn around to tell you that he doesn’t mean creating this distance, but he doesn’t. 
And you wouldn’t blame him. You’d stay away from you, too.
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You end up watching Aliens on your own, crouched on your corner of the couch with the large blanket over you. You give up after an hour, once the movie starts getting intense and scary though. There’s no Jungkook to hold you during the jumpscares, or to tease you about your screaming, or to assure you that he’ll protect you from all types of monsters. 
There’s no Jungkook next to you but you want him there, and it’s another half hour later when you decide that you’re not going to bed without speaking to him. 
You hate sleeping sad and upset. You don’t like ending the day not being on good terms with him. There are so many things you want to tell him but more than anything, you just want to hold him close. He always said he liked that, because even during the times when there’s so much to say or feel, falling into each other’s arms is the easiest thing to do. It says enough. It shows enough. And you’ve both survived misunderstandings and stressful moments by holding each other, and then holding each other closer.
Walking up the stairs and towards Jimin’s room, the nerves kick in. Jungkook has been ignoring you the whole evening and you’re unsure if he’s willing to hear you out. 
But you try, as you knock on the door, your heart beating fast when it slowly opens. Your brother’s downcast eyes meet you and you don’t need to say anything else. 
He opens the door wider then turns to the man lying on a mattress on the floor.
“Kook, my sister’s looking for you.”
You glance at him, dressed in that black tank top that always made you breathless, but once again, he avoids your gaze. But he does stand up after a nudge on the foot from your brother and walks over to you.
“Can we, uh…” you gesture towards the room just across the hallway.
He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t shut you out, which is a good thing. You take it as your cue to start walking and you hear his footsteps right behind you. 
You let him in then close the door behind him. There’s so much you want to say, like you’re sorry and that you were stupid, that you didn’t mean to deny him but that you didn’t know how to tell your parents, or what you were even nervous about. You want to say that you just want to spend tonight wrapped up in his arms and apologizing in all the ways that you can.
But instead of uttering the words, your throat dries up. Seeing him standing there with that upset and disinterested look on his face breaks you a little. So you reach out, your hands pressing gently on his chest to try to feel him, to be close to him, hopefully to hold him and make your mistake go away. 
“Kook, I…” you tremble, trying so hard to find the words.
Jungkook looks back at you, your face nervous and unsure, unlike his that’s probably still painted with disappointment. 
He still doesn’t know what to make of your denial. He’s been trying to see things from your point of view all evening, but doing so only in his head because verbalizing them, especially to his best friend, makes it sting a bit more. Maybe Jimin can explain on your behalf but that would just confirm to Jungkook one of two things - that you don’t really intend on telling your parents about both of you for whatever reason he can’t comprehend, or you don’t think he measures up to their expectations and for that, you might just think he’s not good enough for you. 
He doesn’t think he’s ready for that, so he shuts Jimin down when he asks. They watched videos earlier to have something to laugh about but he was faking it. He suggested playing a game just so he wouldn’t respond to you calling him earlier but all they’ve done since going to the room is lie in silence. 
Jungkook doesn’t want to talk about it with his best friend. And he certainly doesn’t want to talk about it with you. He doesn’t want an explanation right now. It’s not what he wants to hear. 
And it seems as if it’s something you’re even struggling to give him, as you stand there quivering, your hands slowly trying to pull him closer to you. 
It’s what you usually do when you can’t find the words to express something - when you’re stressed and frustrated, when you want to patch things up after a small misunderstanding, when you want his comfort. And he always loved it when you did. He always willingly gave you that hug and that kiss and those whispers of “it’s okay” and “we’re okay” and “I’m just here.” 
But not tonight, not when there’s this unnamed thing that’s eating him inside, and not even you can fix it. 
“I don’t… I don’t really wanna do this right now,” he mutters, taking your hands to slowly slide them off him. 
The look of hurt in your eyes is one that’ll probably haunt him for a while, but he’ll learn to deal with that. It’s better than talking with you about something that you don’t even know how to express. 
This isn’t like him. It’s not like him to be upset at you like this, to not want to comfort you, to not want to be around you. This messes him up, too, and all he can do is step away and walk out.
He doesn’t really wanna be here, he thinks to himself as he enters the room just across, to the surprise of Jimin who half expected both of you to have made up. Jungkook would go home if he only brought his keys and it wasn’t too late to ask his parents to open the door for him.
But his best friend’s floor mattress will do for now. And so Jungkook puts on his earpods and plays whatever music is loud enough to shut out the thought of you until he falls asleep. 
In the other room, you lay in your bed in complete silence. You don’t want to cry, only because he’s not there to wipe your tears away. And you don’t ever want to know what that’s like, so you don’t. You keep the tears at bay and force yourself to drift away. 
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You jerk awake the next morning to your mother knocking on your door. You promised to do errands with her today, so you get off the bed and yell out that you’ll just fix up.
“No rush, dear. I’m still having breakfast with your father. You can join us when you’re ready.”
You head down and eat the pastries that they brought from the cafe. You don’t have much appetite and these will suffice, but your mind goes to Jungkook and how he was craving kimchi fried rice and spam yesterday. 
So that’s what you make for him and Jimin. You even prepare iced coffee the way they like it. You’re about to set the dish aside for them to heat up when you hear rushed footsteps down the stairs and you know they’ve woken up.
“Wahhh, it smells so good,” Jimin exclaims as he walks over to the counter while his best friend sits on the table. “Did you make something, dad?”
“Oh, your sister cooked for you and Jungkook,” your father hums. “It’s making me hungry now.”
“There’s still some in here if you want,” you call out, with him responding that he’ll get some later.
You serve the dish in two bowls. You hand one to Jimin and then place the other in front of Jungkook without sparing him a glance. 
“Iced coffee is in the refrigerator,” you tell them. 
You hear Jimin’s little squeal before he gets them. “Where you off to?” He asks.
“I’m running errands with mom.”
“Make sure you two make it in time for dinner, okay?” Your father says.
“Of course. I can’t miss your steak, dad,” you give him a small smile. 
“Good. I prepared meat good enough for five Actually, six. I count Jungkook as two people,” he laughs. 
The thought of this comfort and familiarity hurts you because you’re the one who made Jungkook think otherwise. You see him smile at your father’s remark but you turn away when he looks your way. You know he’s still upset and you don’t want to force it if he’s not yet ready to speak with you. You also haven’t gotten over the way he pulled away from you last night, and so looking at him today is a little difficult.
“You’re still joining us at the party, right?” Jimin asks. 
Their friend, Hari, whom you know briefly dated Jungkook in high school, is celebrating her birthday tonight. Their group always looked to you as the cool sister so you’re always invited to whatever they’ve got going, and while the three of you talked about attending later, after what you did, you doubt Jungkook would want you to spoil his evening. You’re also not exactly in the partying mood for obvious reasons.
“I’ll pass, Chim,” you respond. “You guys should have a best friend night.”
You go back to your room to fix up before joining your mother to head out. 
Back in the dining room, Jimin nudges Jungkook’s knee.
“She’s still playing favorites,” he playfully rolls his eyes as he gestures to the generous amount of spam in his best friend’s bowl compared to his decent serving. 
Jungkook just hums, guilt forming that he didn’t even thank you for this because he really has been craving it. Before any of them could say anything more, your father speaks up.
“Your sister okay, son?”
“Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t she be?” Jimin nervously answers.
“She just doesn’t seem like herself, that’s all,” your old man replies.
“Maybe it’s work. It’s been tough lately,” your brother reasons. 
“But she’s more tired and frustrated when it comes to work but that’s not what she is. Maybe it’s a guy.”
At this, Jungkook chokes on his food, and he’s glad your father doesn’t react.
“What makes you think so?” Jimin asks, his eyes flitting to his best friend.
“Hmm, it just seems different,” your father insists. “Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking on my end. She hasn’t introduced anyone since Namjoon. And I wish she would, just so we know she’s moved on, you know? And that the breakup isn’t still hurting her.”
“She has, and it doesn’t affect her anymore,” Jimin confirms, certain of at least that bit.
“Then why hasn’t she introduced anyone yet?”
“Maybe it’s because you really liked Namjoon, and he seems to be your standard so ___ is just probably just taking her time.”
“Well it’s because he’s smart and stable and very self-assured and—”
“Also very much married. And a soon-to-be father,” Jimin interjects, already being protective of you. 
He wonders now if this is how your parents talk about him to you, and that you’ve always just protected him from all of it.
“Oh,” your father sighs. “It could’ve been her.”
“But it isn’t and that’s totally fine,” Jimin exclaims. “She’s young and she’s got time. And who knows, maybe that’s not the life she wants, or at least not yet? If you could accept my version of happiness, you should be able to accept hers, too. And what does ‘stable’ even mean?”
“Someone with ambition, with a direction,” your old man explains. “Someone who’s secure and financially capable of sustaining this good life that your mom and I gave you both.”
“Those are all the things she is, too, you know?” Jimin frowns. “And also, I love you, dad, but you’re old. By that I mean your thinking is old. It’s outdated. You think stability is about prestige and money and I get that but… that’s not everything. There are other things that matter to her and if you lessened the pressure a bit, you’d see that. She’s your daughter, don’t you want her to be happy? To be loved?”
“Of course I do,” your father sighs. 
“Well then don’t let your version of what a good partner is dictate her life,” Jimin advises. “She’s a grown up, she knows what she wants and how to get it. But she’s also your daughter who doesn’t want to worry or disappoint you. What if she’s found someone who makes her happy and treats her right but she’s nervous of what you’d think because of all these expectations you have of her?”
Jimin’s eyes flit to his best friend again who’s quietly munching on his food but is clearly taking in this exchange. While Jimin still thinks you were wrong to deny your relationship, he at least hopes that Jungkook could understand what was going through your mind and it was all this. 
“Well if she has then I’d want to meet him,” your father insists. 
“And maybe you will, once she stops feeling the pressure of what she’s supposed to be for you and who she’s supposed to date,” Jimin explains. 
“I guess you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right, dad,” Jimin groans. “I lived with her for months and she just… she worries about a lot of things. It would be nice if she doesn’t worry about this. So please, stop with all the projections and underhanded remarks, okay? She sees right through you. Just let her live her life.”
A smile forms on your father’s face. It was never his intention to put all that pressure on you but he supposes you just accepted that it comes with the territory. But he realizes it shouldn’t be. His son’s right - he’s old. He and your mother worked hard so that you and your brother could have a life where you didn’t have to worry about anything, but he supposes the intention got muddled along the way. At least you and Jimin have each other.
“I know you and your sister don’t like to admit it but it’s really touching to see how similar you both are,” your father says.
“Excuse me, I’m cooler and funnier and definitely more talented,” Jimin pouts. 
“Maybe,” your old man laughs. “But she’s sat on that same chair, lecturing me and your mom about letting you live your life and now you’re doing the same. She’s your biggest advocate and your biggest protector. It’s just nice to see how you’re the same for her.”
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Running errands with your mother has always been your responsibility, but it’s once you’ve hit your late-twenties mark that you’ve come to appreciate it. 
You learn a lot about the practical stuff like insurance and emergency funds and inheritance when you accompany her to the bank. You’re also reminded that sometimes you have to spend more to make things last when she drops off her clothes at the laundry service and picks up the bag and shoes she had professionally cleaned. You also remember the important things like buying flowers and leaving them on your grandparents’ graves. 
You’ve just left the shopping center after she bought your father an anniversary gift, and her excitement over the satchel and perfume she got him has you smiling. You wonder how differently she feels for him 30 years later, and if this life they have together is everything she imagined it to be.
“Was it hard at the beginning? Being married to dad?” You ask. 
“Of course, dear,” she answers. “Because it’s how marriages typically go. Your father and I were together for two years before we got married and it was a big change. You just… learn to consider another person, and you get used to someone always being around you.”
“It’s a good thing you can stand each other then,” you chuckle. 
“That’s true,” she laughs back. “You’d be surprised to know how many married couples can’t. But we just always managed. And we had to be on each other’s side, you know? It’s the reason why we’ve lasted as long as we have.”
She looks quite emotional as she says the words and it’s probably because of what they’ll be celebrating soon but she turns to you with a smile.
“Your father’s parents wanted me to become a housewife, a stay-at-home mom who just ran the household,” she continues. “But I wanted to work so I could help my parents, and your father stood by my decision. He saw how working gave him financial freedom and he wanted that for me, too. And we just… worked hard. We fought a lot at the start because we were building our careers and raising a family but we knew it would all be worth it, as long as we stood by each other.”
“Then I suppose that’s what’s important in a partner, isn’t it?” You say. “Being dependable, being supportive, not… not what kind of career they have.”
“Well, a stable career helps,” she points out. “I mean, it’s how your father and I got to afford sending you and your brother to good schools. It’s how we could afford trips as a family and how your father and I can be secure at this age without needing much help from our children.”
“But that’s also because you worked hard, plain and simple. And you and dad had each other and overcame whatever challenges you faced together. You can’t say the same for all married couples,” you push. 
“That’s true. I mean, it wasn’t like this during our parents’ time. I guess people had less options then. The world’s changed so much, hasn’t it?”
“It has,” you hum. “Not everyone cares much about their partner’s upward mobility and stuff like that. They want to savor the good life their parents gave them. And because they work hard, too, they just want someone to enjoy it with them. You know, like me.”
There’s a beat of silence as your mother processes your words. 
“Is that why it didn’t work out with Namjoon?” She asks, reminding you that you’d only given them a general reason as to why things ended.
“We spent too much time planning for our future that we kinda lost our way,” you explain. “I guess that’s when I realized that I wanted someone to enjoy the moments with, regardless of what they do for a living. And we’ll never know what life will throw our way and I need someone who’ll stand by me, the way I’ll stand by them. You know, cheesy things like that.”
You smile to yourself as you think about Jungkook and his shameless affection that he shows in so many ways. You enjoy the cheesiness but you’ll deny it first before admitting it. But then again, he probably knows already. He pays attention to you after all. 
“Well, I suppose that’s why we wanted to give you and your brother a good and secure life, so that you can enjoy it,” your mother hums.
“Exactly. You raised us well, mom. We’re not gonna throw our lives away, however we choose to live it, and with whom,” you assure her. 
She gives you a warm smile. She takes your hand at the stoplight and caresses it. Perhaps it’s the assurance you need, too.
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You return home to your father preparing the meat for tonight’s dinner. There’s a platter of steak, vegetables, and sausages that he’s seasoning to grill, and you can imagine how happy this is gonna make Jungkook. He always liked it when your dad prepared dishes like this paired with your mom’s spicy chicken soup, and you wish you could enjoy it together. 
But you’re giving him space to feel what he feels and you’re doing the same, even if all you want to do is apologize. You haven’t had an issue quite like this, so things are a little unfamiliar to you. You tried to talk to him last night but he wasn’t ready, and you’re unsure when he will be. 
You head towards the counter and cut up the vegetables for the soup before slicing the fruits. You’re focused on your task, knowing how sharp the knives are, but it’s at the same time that your brother and Jungkook arrive. Seeing your boyfriend look as good as he does in that denim jacket-over tank top fit is so sinful; it’s a crime you’re not talking that it distracts you, and it’s what causes you to slice through your finger and yelp in pain.
“Did you hurt yourself, dear?” Your mom asks as she stirs the pot. 
“Yeah,” you say, placing your hand under running water.
You’re about to ask Jimin to get the First Aid kit from the drawer but Jungkook gets to it first, knowing where it is. 
He knows that your brother, who’s terrified of blood, won’t help you, and despite your situation, Jungkook can’t stand not helping. So he lathers an antiseptic once the bleeding has stopped, then he wraps a band-aid around it. Just like him, you focus your gaze on your finger. Or maybe you’re stuck on the way he tends to you. Or the fact that this is the most physical touch you’ve done this past day when you normally can’t take your hands off each other. 
He sighs to himself. If he wasn’t so hung up on his hurt feelings, he’d be able to tend to you better. This might not even have happened if he’d just spoken to you last night. 
But he shakes the thought away. He’s still upset. But he’ll always want to take care of you; that’s the one thing that won’t ever change.
“Thank you,” you mumble, still not meeting his eyes.
“I’ll do this,” he says, waiting for you to step aside before he takes your place. 
“Jungkook dear, do you mind helping me with the glazed potatoes after you finish that?” She asks.
“Sure thing, auntie,” he replies. 
You watch him work around the kitchen the way he’s done so many times before, and your heart stings at the sight because you want to be doing this with him, with your parents, in your family kitchen. But it’s not like you could talk to him right now, not when you don’t know how to say what you want to say. So you head outside to where your dad is grilling the meat and help him instead. 
It’s not long after when dinner is ready, and you’re seated across Jungkook again. It’s a little tense when you look at him when he looks away, but Jimin thankfully finds a way to keep the conversation light and focused on him.
Your parents insist that both men don’t need to help clean up, and Jimin asks you if you’re really not going.
“Yeah I’ll just… stay home, make sure mom and dad are packed well and just get everything in order for tomorrow,” you say, half lying. 
“Gee, you make me look like a useless child,” Jimin pouts.
“You’re alright,” you hum. “You can drive them to the airport tomorrow.”
“But mom asked Jungkook to do that.”
“Well then you could just… make them a card or something,” you shrug. 
Your brother sticks his tongue at you and you do the same. 
“Fine, we’ll head out,” he announces.
“You guys have fun,” you say softly, glancing at Jungkook before walking towards the sink to do your duty. 
You turn to your brother. “Call me if you need me to pick you up. No driving drunk, okay?”
He salutes you in response then heads out after Jungkook.
It’s uneventful after that. You help your parents with last minute packing then have a long shower. You lie on your bed and mindlessly watch some movie on your laptop hoping that you’ll fall asleep soon, and that when you wake up, you’ll find the strength to go to Jungkook and tell him that you’re sorry and that you don’t want to go another day without him. 
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“Hey, Jungkook. Dance with me.”
Jungkook looks up to find Hari and gives the same answer he’s given the last two times.
“Sorry, I’m injured,” he says. 
She raises her eyebrow as if she doesn’t believe him and he can’t blame her; he doesn’t exactly know how to act like it.
“Oh, Jimin. There you are,” she chirps as the said man approaches the table. “Dance with me.”
“Sorry, I'm injured.”
“Great. It’s my birthday and I spot two hot guys in this party without girls around them and they’re fake injured,” she scowls. “What’s up with you two?”
“I’m not in the mood,” Jungkook shrugs.
“I’m babysitting,” Jimin says, gesturing at his friend. “But Mingyu and Eunwoo are right there. Go tell them to dance with you.”
“Fine. I’ll get in line then,” she rolls her eyes then walks away.
“How come no one believes me when I say I’m injured?” Jungkook asks as he munches on the fried chicken wings his best friend got.
“Because you’re a terrible actor. People believe me because I’m believable,” Jimin hums.
“They believe you because you posted all over social media that you hurt your ankle,” Jungkook corrects. 
“Yeah but that was like, half a year ago.”
“Why are you even pretending you’re injured? You don’t have to stay with me, you know? Go to the dance floor and have fun. That’s your thing.”
“Well, maybe I’m also not in the mood because my best friend’s sulking,” Jimin frowns. 
“Gee, I wonder why.”
“You know my sister’s sorry, right?”
“She’s ashamed, that’s what she is. And I’m just supposed to live with that.”
Jimin sighs as he watches his best friend mindlessly stare out onto the dance floor. Jungkook’s probably trying to rid himself of the image of both of you dancing and kissing and having fun if you were here. He could be making sense of what he feels, or his mind could also just be completely blank right now.
But what Jimin knows is that another glass of whiskey is something that Jungkook shouldn’t be having, so he stops his best friend from ordering another one.
“You might get drunk and then you’ll call or go see her and then you’ll say things you’ll regret and then you’ll hurt her and you’ll get even more hurt and you’ll have a harder time fixing things and then it just won’t stop and you’ll feel stupid because you’re not talking over something you could easily fix,” Jimin heaves. 
It’s a lot to process but Jungkook knows that Jimin’s right. He’ll just get too emotional and won’t be able to control himself and despite what he feels, hurting you is the last thing he wants.
So he orders water instead, finishes it, then heads for the door.
“I don’t wanna be here anymore,” he says. “I need to get some air.”
They end up at a park, the one that you used to hang at with your friends in high school. Jungkook knows because he always accompanied Jimin there when you’d tell him where to meet you. It’s peaceful at this time of night and much more beautiful, too. It’s no surprise he keeps thinking that you’re right next to him, with your head on his chest and laughing at his jokes. 
“Why is this affecting me so much?” He wonders out loud. “Why am I so hurt and so stubborn?”
“Because she said something she shouldn’t have. But also because you put her on a pedestal,” Jimin answers. “She made a mistake, and you’re free to fault her for it. I mean, anytime someone we care about hurts us, it sucks like hell. But you also have to think that maybe it’s affecting you as much as it does because she’s always been faultless in your eyes and she isn’t.”
The reality is a slap on the face, but one that Jungkook thinks he needs to have. You were everything he ever wanted and these past three months have been a bliss. But now that reality hits and you have to face the pressure that’s part of your life, your humanness is showing. And that’s what he’s always liked about you, isn’t it? The imperfections and the flaws? Now that those are affecting him, it’s affecting him hard, and he’s having a hard time getting over it.
“Maybe once you accept that she’s human and not just the dream you’ve had since forever, then you’ll realize that things like that happen but she never means to hurt you,” Jimin adds. “You can’t think that she does. You learn to work it out by facing it, Kook. You have to talk about it. You have to tell her it hurts and you have to listen to what she says, and then you forgive. That’s kind of how grownup relationships go.”
“Guess I’ve never had one before, huh?”
“Maybe they just didn’t mean enough to hurt you.”
“This means everything, then,” Jungkook sighs, as things get clearer in his mind. “Because I think what hurts more now is not being next to her.”
“Great! Then can both of you patch things up now?” Jimin beams, feeling hopeful. “I hate seeing both of you sad and so stupid. Plus, my parents are leaving tomorrow and you won’t have a buffer anymore. So please just talk.”
Jungkook admits feeling touched. He knows at the end of the day, Jimin cares about him and you more than anyone, and he probably misses being around both of you at the same time. Jungkook does, too, but he misses you the most and it’s only been a day.
“Tomorrow,” he says. “I don’t know what to tell her and it’s late. She might be asleep and—”
“Now you’re just making excuses,” Jimin crosses his arms.
“Well, what if I expect her to be the one to talk to me?”
“She tried but you didn’t want to, remember?”
“That was last night. The wound was still fresh,” Jungkook pouts. 
“Oh god. I feel like I’m dealing with children,” Jimin groans.
“Imagine how we felt taking care of you,” Jungkook answers back.
“At least I was just one person,” Jimin rolls his eyes. 
“Your dramatics were equivalent to two people though.”
Both men bicker as they walk back to the car. It started to drizzle so they decided to go back to their respective homes. Jungkook could stay over at your place and maybe talk to you if he really wants to but he’s seriously just chickening out over it. 
He’s never had to make up with you because none of your previous arguments ever led to you not talking to each other, or him pushing you away. He’s never had to spend a day ignoring you. And now, there’s so much to say and so much to feel but he doesn’t know how to approach it. He’ll need tonight to sort himself out and then he’ll speak to you, maybe after he drives your parents to the airport. Or maybe on the way back. 
He drops Jimin off; 30 seconds later, he’s home, too. You’re so close but so far away just like you used to be. But at least this time he knows that when the next day comes, he’ll have a chance to just pull you close and tell you he doesn’t want to be like this ever again.
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There’s an incessant knocking on your door, and as you’re about to yell out that you’re asleep, you realize it might be Jungkook. You sit up on your bed and when the door opens and you see your brother instead, your face falls.
“It’s just me, unfortunately,” he says. “Kook’s back at his place.”
“Oh,” you sigh. “Why are you home so early? It’s like, 11.”
“Because after the third girl, his fake injury excuse wore off and people just didn’t believe him. We looked like losers sitting on the table eating chicken,” Jimin chuckles. “So we left after an hour then went to a park and I knocked some sense into him and now he’s not so upset anymore. And I’m here to knock some sense into you, too.”
“I already know I made a mistake, Chim. I’m… I’m so fucking stupid. I just… don’t want him to think that I’m ashamed of him or that I don’t think he’s enough or any of that. I mean I’m—”
“Crazy about him, right?”
“I kinda am,” you smile softly.
“Good, because so is he and he’s hoping you’d go talk to him even if he says he’ll talk to you tomorrow. Don’t waste time anymore and—”
You’re bolting off your bed and putting on your hoodie before your brother could finish his sentence. 
“If mom and dad look for me, tell them I—”
“Got attacked by a clown in the sewer.”
You look at him incredulously then realize you’re wearing yellow then you frown. 
“Just make up some excuse. I’ll… hopefully be back in the morning,” you say.
“Alright. It’s drizzling though so—”
And just like that, you’re gone.
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It takes all but 10 seconds for the rain to pour, and your hoodie and sweatpants are no match for it. You groan at your brother for underselling the weather but then again, you also should be thanking him for telling you what you needed to hear - that Jungkook’s not so upset anymore and that he’s hoping you’d speak to him. 
Much as you think you would’ve taken any chance today to patch things up, you also would’ve frozen in front of him. You suppose you needed to know he was ready for you, and if he wouldn’t tell you, then of course, Jimin would. You just really wish he had the foresight to know it would rain this hard but you’re probably asking for too much. 
But Jungkook’s place is just a few blocks from yours so you power through. When you get there, you realize that you forgot your phone, so you make the stupid decision of climbing over the short fence and then hitting your cut finger in the process. 
You have no time to feel pain though, as the next order of business is getting Jungkook’s attention. But before you can execute your plan of throwing rocks on his window, the front door opens, and you telepathically thank your brother who probably called your boyfriend to alert him that you’ll be arriving at his place wet from the rain.
“___, what are you doing here?” Jungkook asks with worry painted on his face. 
“I just… I needed to come and see you,” you manage to answer.
His face softens and you feel the hope bloom in your chest. He pulls you inside by the wrist and instructs you to quietly go up the stairs. You’re at least not drenched but you still got wet, so he leads you to the bathroom to wash up. He tells you to wait as he gets you something to change in, and he returns after half a minute with a towel and a large shirt.
“Cream and band-aid, for your wound,” he says, placing them on the counter. “My room’s the second door to the right, in case you forgot.”
You take him in, in his black tank top and shorts, his tongue playing with his lip ring the way he always does when he’s nervous. You manage to nod before he heads out, and you take a quick shower and then pull his oversized shirt over you. 
You quietly walk to his room, knocking on the door first before opening it slowly. It’s a bit dim but seeing him is all you need. After placing your clothes on the nearby chair, you look at him again. 
He looks tired and worried. He also looks like he has so much to say but he doesn’t know where to start. There’s a hint of sadness in his eyes but there’s longing, too, and you suppose he’s mirroring how you look. You feel a lot. You also want to say a lot, but you don’t know where or how to start. 
So you do the one thing you know often works. You approach him then wrap your arms around his torso. You fall into his embrace as quickly as he falls into yours, as he seems to have the same idea. You hold him tighter and pull him closer. You flush your cheeks on his chest while he buries his face on your neck. You grip his top and he does the same with yours. Your heart beats fast in longing and you feel his own do the same, too. 
There’s so much to feel and say but this is all you can do. And right now, it’s quite enough. 
You loosen your grip, but only so you could nuzzle his neck while your arms wrap around them. He feels so warm and he smells so delicate and he’s all you need.
“You knew I was coming?” You ask, turning to him
“Jimin said you were on your way without an umbrella and your phone,” Jungkook chuckles. But his face softens as he wipes the lone tear that falls down your cheek. “You’re lucky it wasn’t a typhoon or anything.”
“I had to get to you,” you mumble. 
“He also told me he wasn’t subtle in telling you to come here.”
“Well, he did say you wanted me to talk to you. And I wanted to. I just wasn’t sure if you were ready to hear me out and I was… giving you space.”
“Yeah well, I don’t know what to do with that space without you there,” he sighs, his eyes shy and absolutely adorable.
“Neither do I,” you smile. “So, uh. Will you invite me to your bed, maybe fill that space and more?”
“Of course,” he laughs, taking your hand and leading you there. 
You get under the covers and once he lies next to you, you scoot closer, hugging him again until you’re laying on top of him. But he doesn’t complain. He just hugs you back tightly, pulling you closer until he’s able to bask in your scent and the warm feel of you.
But despite the relief, you know you actually have to do the talking. You pull away and lay on your side. You take in his beauty and his softness and the way they make you feel like all is right again in the world. Your fingers trace his face, from his nose to his cheek to his lips, and he does the boyfriend thing of kissing your hand - including your cut finger - before wrapping it around his waist. He looks like he’s anticipating your words, too, so you try and hope they’re enough.
“Kook, I’m so sorry,” you start. “I… I have no excuse. I was being selfish and cowardly because I didn’t know how to tell my parents. I didn’t want to deal with what they’ll say about your job, knowing how they are and what they value and I just…”
“That’s for me to deal with though,” he says. “Because I chose this. And I’ve always known how they are but I still chose you.”
“It’s for us to deal with, and I did it so terribly,” you shake your head. “I don’t want you to think that I’m ashamed of you and what you do. That freedom, the ability to create… they’re things they don’t really understand. And I thought I knew how to make them. I just ended up denying us and that was so wrong. I’m so sorry.”
“I… I get it,” he responds, caressing your cheek now. “They worked so hard to give you this life and of course they want to make sure you’re taken care of. And for them, they only know of one way that could happen. I’d be naive to think they’ll just accept that the man who’s crazy about their daughter isn’t some corporate dude with secure employment and upward mobility in his career.”
He doesn’t miss your shy smile and the way you nibble your lip and that just triggers the butterflies in his belly. 
“But that’s for me to show them that I can take care of you, and not because you can’t do it yourself but because I want to,” he adds. “I… I wanna be that person who makes things better and easier for you and who makes you happy.”
And who makes you feel loved, he doesn’t say. That’s a conversation for another day, he thinks.
“You do,” you assure him. “And I feel it everyday. You’re good at that, and I don’t tell you enough.”
“I know now,” he smiles, leaning closer to kiss you softly. 
You return it but pull away. “Do you forgive me?”
“Of course I do,” he says, falling into the kiss that he gives again.
“Okay. I don’t wanna hurt you like that ever again.”
Your pouty face tugs his heart and he wants to tell you that none of that matters now because you’re back in each other’s arms, and that’ll always be enough for him. 
He just hums as he goes for another kiss that’s deeper this time. And when you let him push you to lay on your back as you moan against his lips, his heart soars even more. He’s missed you, and it’s definitely going to be a long night.
He hovers over you now, and he shivers when your fingers graze his neck and then his chest. You open your legs to meet his hips, and the feel of your clothed cunt against him has his brain short-circuiting. He gets in the rhythm of grinding against you while he kisses your lips then your jaw then your neck, his hand now sneaking under your shirt to fondle your breast.
It’s when he sucks on that sensitive part near your ear that you yelp in pleasure, and he immediately covers your mouth with his hand while he giggles.
“Gotta keep it down babe,” he whispers. “My parents are in the other room.”
But he doesn’t stop his kissing and you don’t really want him to.
“It’s not like you’re making it any easier,” you moan as he pinches your pert nipple.
“I’m not and I won’t, but you gotta try,” he smirks before his lips trail downward.
You’re unable to say anything once his tongue swirls around your buds. His hands wrap around your breasts that he praises, that he kisses and licks before slowly letting them go to hold onto your waist this time. He presses open-mouth kisses down your torso, his lips in tandem with your underwear that’s teasingly being removed off of you. 
You hear him let out a breathy moan as he spreads your legs wider. 
And while you know that this tender-hearted man has a cheeky streak in him, you didn’t expect for him to have his finger against his lips to shush you, knowing what he’s about to do. His smug face turns you on even more, and your breath is caught in your throat once you feel his tongue flat against your flesh, warming it up before the tip of his wet muscle swirls around your nub.
But you go along with his request, biting back your moan, even as your pussy chases his mouth for more. 
And it’s what he gives, as he dives in and sucks and bites your clit while his two fingers explore your hole. The cold of his lip ring is a contrast to how hot you feel, and it’s a sensation you can never get enough of. You whimper in silence but you manage to look at him, his eyes closed as he buries his face in your cunt. 
“Look at me,” you whisper and he follows, his gaze meeting yours. “Fuu-uuck, Kook. You feel so good,” your voice quivers.
His mouth’s full but yours is hanging open. You cover yours with your free hand while the other pulls on his long locks. He’s enjoying this so much, you can tell with the way he squeezes your thighs and moans against your skin. He follows a pace that has your body shaking, straining in intense pleasure until it gives in. You let out a low scream as your orgasm hits, and he’s right there, riding out your high with you.
He cleans you up with his tongue and then makes a show of licking your essence off his fingers before kissing you again.
“You did good,” he teases, as he caresses your cheek.
You’re about to say that so did he when bucks his hip against yours, and the feel of his hard cock against your still wet cunt ignites another fire in you. He repeats it, and it’s what has you moaning again.
“Fuck baby, I told you to keep it down,” he says, continuing his movements.
You know you can’t help it at this point, not when he’s back to licking your neck and kneading your breast.
“Whatever. Not like this isn’t new to your parents or anything,” you say. 
It’s a guess but you doubt you’re wrong.
“What? Fucking a girl in my room?” 
“Yeah?”
“But you’re the first girl I ever brought in here,” he cocks an eyebrow. 
“That’s uh, that’s kinda sweet,” you reply, your breath steadying now. 
“Yeah and well, who gets to say they fucked their childhod crush in their childhood bedroom?” He smirks again. “I can.”
He’s back to kissing you and much as you enjoy this, the itch to feel him in your mouth overtakes you, and you take the chance when he trails down your neck.
“So, can this childhood crush suck your dick?” 
“Yes, she can,” he chuckles.
He removes himself from you and leans against his bed frame. You get on your knees and pull off his boxers, salivating at the sight before you. You get on top of him, your damp lips gliding against his hard cock and his mouth drops open, an invitation for you to do what you wish.
With your movements on his hips, you focus on his neck, licking up the smooth flesh and the protruding vein that has him biting back his moan. Then you kiss him, desperately and passionately, as you slowly remove his tank top and rest your hands on his chest.
It’s your turn to trail kisses down his torso now and you give every inch of him ample attention. But when you make it further down, there’s one part of him that deserves so much more. You tease him only a little, stroking his length and kitten-licking his slit, before swallowing him whole and swirling your tongue around and all over his cock. He’s hard and thick and everything you want inside of you.
You hold back a gag while he holds back his whimpers. You stroke him relentlessly so you could watch his mouth hang open and his strained body almost folding in pleasure as his thighs tighten in your hold. 
“You like that, baby?” You hum.
“Fuck, baby, you feel so good around me. Fuck,” he keens, his voice quivering now. 
You let his sounds guide you on how hard and how deep to go, but he’s the one who stops you, as he leans close and captures your lips in a searing kiss. He pulls you back on top of him to slide down his cock and the stretch makes you moan in his mouth. 
He’s propped up on his arms for support while you move up and down, loving how he drags inside you in an angle that has your mind going hazy. You wrap your arms around his neck while he pushes upward to meet you, and somehow doing this while trying to be quiet is making the pleasure more intense.
It gets too much for Jungkook and he wants more. He wants to hit your deepest spots. He wants to be as close to you as he possibly can. He wants to swallow your moans and touch every part of your body and pleasure you in every way that he’s able. 
So he pulls you off and lays you on your side, sliding back in from behind, with your one leg raised. The angle has you keening, even more when his one hand finds your breast and the other does its work on your clit. He pushes gently then roughly, no longer caring about the odd sounds the bed is making against his wall. He wouldn’t mind making up a reason to his parents if they ask him about it. Right now, all he wants is to reach his peak with you. 
Your body is shaking in pleasure and overstimulation but you urge him, wanting to feel his seed inside you as well.
You lick his mouth. “Baby please, I want to feel your cum inside me,” you beg. “I want you so bad, fuck fuck.”
He loves it when you plead to him like this. He loves hearing what he does to you. He revels in the way your body molds into his, the way it aches to be close and to be one with him. His movements continue, and with his unrhythmic pounding against your pussy, he comes. You come right after, caused by his intense fiddling of your clit, and you feel like floating, your body in the clouds of pure pleasure.
But like always, he’s there with you, making sure you safely fall into a bed of hugs and kisses and warmth. He stays inside you as he softens, but his arms wrap around you, his face in your neck as he mumbles words of praise. 
“Fifteen-year-old me would never believe this,” he heaves as he turns you over to face him.
You giggle in response. 
“You’re crazy, you know that?”
“I do. It’s how I am with you. In the best way, of course,” he smiles his boyish smile, an interesting mix of innocent and cheeky.
“It’s the same with me,” you whisper, kissing his nose. “And 18-year-old me would never believe this.”
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You wake up the next morning to the alarm that you set on Jungkook’s phone. Your parents are leaving early in the afternoon and they wanted to prepare breakfast for all of you, and it’s a meal with them that you’re excited and a little nervous to have. 
You kiss the chest that your face is flushed against, and this elicits a groan from the man next to you. 
“Good morning, babe,” you greet, shifting up to kiss his nose this time. 
“G’morning,” he grunts.
“So, uh, we’re supposed to meet my parents for breakfast. And uh, I’m going to tell them about us.”
It’s what prompts him to finally open his eyes, and the softness in them makes your heart burst. 
“Okay,” he smiles. “I hope it won’t ruin their trip or anything.”
“It won’t,” you assure him. “I… I tried to get through to my mom yesterday. You know, just telling her the things I value and stuff.”
“Hmm. Jimin did the same with your dad. I guess I won’t be such a disappointment now, huh?”
“Shush, you’re not even that,” you pout. “I think they’ll understand.”
He mirrors your smile and there’s a giddy feeling at finally - hopefully - seeing your parents be happy for you. So you get off the bed and sneak out of Jungkook’s bedroom to go to the bathroom. 
You wash up quickly, only to make it to the hallway and find his parents standing there, wide-eyed as they look at you in surprise. You realize you’re only wearing Jungkook’s shirt that falls just above your knees and you try to cover whatever you can with your hands.
“Hi, uncle. Hi, auntie,” you shyly smile. “This, uh, this isn’t how I wanted to meet you.”
“Well, we don’t really mind,” Jungkook’s mother smiles. “We’re just glad you’re here. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you.”
“I know. I, uh, I wasn’t dating your son yet the last time I was here.”
“And that calls for a celebration, doesn’t it?” She giggles. “That boy has had a crush on you since forever. It’s funny he never believed that we knew. He wasn’t exactly subtle.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve heard that,” you laugh back.
You hear a door open and before you know it, large arms are wrapping around your waist and a mop of hair tickles your cheek. Jungkook grunts against your neck as he says that he’s finally awake, and you cringe at his parents’ amused faces.
“Kook, your parents are in front of us. This is so embarrassing.”
“Nah, they don’t mind. They’re cool,” he says.
“Yeah, and my parents aren’t,” you sigh.
“So, I’m guessing your parents don’t know yet?” His father asks.
Your pout prompts him to explain. “Well, the day after you got together, our lovesick son here told our family about both of you. But he said that you haven't told your parents yet so we’ve kept it from them ever since. It’s hard since we see them all the time but we managed.”
“Kook also told us about what happened,” his mother asks. “He was grumpy all day yesterday and we got him to tell us why he was so upset.”
“I’m sorry,” you pout again. “That wasn’t my finest moment.”
You feel Jungkook’s hold on you tighten, his way of telling you it’s all okay.
“It’s alright, darling,” she smiles. “We know how your parents are, and their reasons come from a good place. We tried to make this boy here understand them and you as well. Firstborns carry immense pressure to meet expectations; he just doesn’t get it because he’s the youngest. But it seems that it’s worked out with both of you, and we’re glad it did.”
“He couldn’t resist me,” you shrug, to his parents’ amusement. 
“Uh, you’re the one who walked through the rain to come see me,” he reminds you, his head popping out of your neck now. 
“You wanted me to.”
He tickles you in response and you’re all laughing in no time. It’s a different dynamic with his parents, as Jungkook always had a very close relationship with them. You saw it as a teenager and now, you get to be part of it, too.
They finally let you go and ask you to have dinner with them tomorrow, and that’s one meal that you’re definitely excited to have. 
You push Jungkook towards the bathroom and then return to his room to dress up. It’s shortly after when you’re both walking the few blocks to your house, fingers interlocked as you give each other comfort.
You make it home and once you unlock the door, you can already hear laughter and clanking pots from the kitchen. You head there, meet Jimin’s smug face, and clear your throat to announce your presence.
“Oh, there you are. We were wondering where you were,” your mother says. “And hi, Jungkook.”
He greets your parents and from behind you, you take his hand again. 
“I went for a walk… with Jungkook.”
He clears his throat and you backtrack.
“I mean, I, uh, was at his place. That’s where I slept.”
“Oh?” Your parents say at the same time, their eyes looking at you in confusion.
“He’s kinda my boyfriend.”
“Kinda? Babe, I think I’m more than ‘kinda’ your boyfriend,” he exclaims. 
Your parents look shocked and next to them, Jimin is laughing in his seat.
“I mean, he is my legit, actual boyfriend,” you correct. “The new thing in my life that I denied is actually him. And the person who stands by me, who makes me enjoy the moments? That’s him, too.”
Their faces soften, and somehow that’s the comfort you need. Perhaps all the talking that you and your brother have done has gotten into them. You wouldn’t be surprised if they talked about it, too.
“Why didn’t you tell us, then?” Your mother asks.
“Because he’s not what you expected,” you sigh. “And I didn’t know how you’d take it.”
“Well, he is your brother’s best friend,” she points out. 
“Who’s had a crush on me since he was a teenager,” you explain.
“That’s… not surprising,” your father laughs. “We could tell.”
“Oh my god, Kook. You are not subtle,” you elbow him. You turn back at them. “But I… I didn’t know how to tell you because you expect me to have a partner who’s part of your world, you know? And Jungkook likes his freedom. He likes his art and… he really likes me. And I happen to really like him, too.”
“He treats you well? Makes you happy? He’s someone you can depend on when things get tough?” Your father asks. 
He smiles tenderly at you and you feel like crying.
“Yes, very much,” you nod.
“Then I think he’s everything we need him to be. A good partner, I’d say.”
You let out a sigh of relief. This is all you needed to hear.
“We’re sorry if you felt like you couldn’t be honest with us,” your mother shakes her head. “I guess we just needed some reminding of what we want for you and your brother. And well, Jungkook’s shown us his heart all these years. He’s always been a part of the family and he’ll be even more.”
They’re words that Jungkook didn’t expect would get him emotional, and he hugs you from behind just to steady himself. But it’s what makes your mother walk towards him for a hug, and your father surprisingly does the same. 
“Alright, I guess it’s fitting to have this family breakfast together,” your mother says.
You all take your seats at the dining table, with yours being next to Jungkook now.
Jimin cheekily smiles. “Well, if this whole dance thing doesn’t work out, I guess I can just be a counselor or family therapist or something.”
“Just don’t call your clients ‘stupid,’” you roll your eyes.
“I won’t. That’s only reserved for you.”
And just like that, everything is as it should be.
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You get through breakfast with lots of laughter, as you and Jungkook tell your own versions of the story while Jimin butts in to tell his own. It’s heartwarming to see your parents this way, especially when they tease your boyfriend about his crush on you growing up. 
But even they admit that they’ve depended on him all these years, too, and that they don’t doubt his loyalty and commitment to you. 
You share a tense moment with him after you all drop your parents to the airport, though. Jungkook has just unloaded all their things and as they hug you goodbye, your father teases.
“Just don’t welcome us home and tell us we're grandparents already.”
Jungkook dry laughs and so do you. That’s another topic for another day, you suppose, and while you’re still unsure of having a family, you just know it’s something you’ll both talk about.
You all get home soon after to wash up. Jungkook’s excited about how you’ll spend the day now that you’re both talking again, and you suggest hanging by the beach and then going out for dinner. 
Jimin says he’ll stay home to let you two make up for the past two days and so he could have that online date with Taehyung, and you agree.
You and Jungkook end up having a really good day. 
You go to a mall and walk around. He gets you a pair of stud earrings to commemorate the day you went official to your parents and you buy him a silver chain necklace for the same silly reason, but also because he looks really good in one and you want him to have more. It pairs real nicely with the shirt and joggers casual outfit he’s been sporting these past days, and the teasing look he makes after he puts it on reminds you of that one time his necklace was dangling on your face when he was pounding into you on your couch.
You get fruit drinks and snacks at the stalls you both used to buy from as teenagers, then you head to the beach where you lounge until sunset. You wade in the water, splash each other, and then make out when there’s no one around. 
You feel so free and light, so young and hopeful. These are the moments you love having with him, the ones you like to enjoy and savor and have more of. And you know you’ll have them for the rest of this trip and when you get back to Seoul. 
Jimin joins you for dinner at a burger place, then you all buy cup noodles and beer and head to your favorite park. It’s just like how most of your nights together go, just in the outdoors. You and your brother bicker and Jungkook referees; there’s also the occasional “you’re so cheesy” comment from you to your boyfriend and Jimin’s gagging sound. 
You confirm plans for the rest of the trip. Your parents will be enjoying Hawaii for close to two weeks, and you have all that time to rest and spend time with your two favorite people. You’ll be off work. Jungkook has some projects to finalize while you do your own thing, and Jimin will be watching dance shows to get him inspired. 
But there are more beaches and parks and villages to visit. There’s also that two-night stay at a resort you’ll be having. There are other sites and restaurants to go to, and you’ll be reliving your teenage years together while making new memories.
You’re now back at home, snug in Jungkook’s arms as he leans against the bed frame in your room, with you in between his legs. 
“Today was a really good day,” you say, turning to him after he kisses your cheek.
“Today was amazing,” he hums.
He smiles as he replays the scenes of you shopping for each other, frolicking on the beach, and walking around your favorite spots. They’re all so simple and things you’ve done before but today felt so much more. There was a look in your eyes that held such tenderness and care for him. You held his hand as if you didn’t want to ever let go, as if you didn’t want him to.
“I really like you, Kook,” you mumble, almost like a confession, as if it’s not known. “I don’t know how else to say it.”
His eyes soften, as does his smile that he’s had on pretty much the whole day. But he just looks at you, and though you know he feels the same way, you want to hear him verbalize it again.
“Hey, say it back,” you nudge him. 
“I love you though,” he says after a beat of silence.
You’re now the one who looks at him, unable to say a word. 
“Are you that surprised?” He looks back at you nervously, nibbling his lip ring. “I mean, I think it’s quite obvious, just like everything I feel about you is.”
“Kook, I…” you try, but you don’t exactly know how to respond. 
You don’t doubt his feelings but somehow you can’t help but think that maybe right now, he loves the idea of you and not you, and there’s a difference.
“I think I always have but I guess I didn’t realize just how much until this whole thing happened,” he continues, wanting you to understand what he feels. “I asked Jimin why it was affecting me so much and he said it’s because I put you on a pedestal. You were this dream I’ve had for so long that I admired from a distance and now I get to be with you and you’re… human, not some flawless being who doesn’t make mistakes. So when you hurt me, I faltered. That’s on me, too. Because I… I expected too much. And I’m sorry.”
His focus is on his hands that are playing with yours before he turns to you again.
“I realized that I wanted so badly for you to want me, that’s why it hurt. I wanted to be that person you cared for and trusted and needed because you’re all that for me. And when I saw you at my door last night, nothing else mattered but you,” he continues. 
“Whatever misunderstanding or mistake or disagreement, I learned to accept them and I just wanted you, in my arms, so I could show you that you’re all I need. I’ve dreamt of you for so long and this version of you is more than I could’ve imagined. And I just… I love you, okay? It doesn’t matter how you feel. I just need you to know that I do, and I don’t think I’ll stop.”
Your heart is about to burst, and all you could do is cup his face in your hands and kiss him, hard and deep until you run out of air. You kiss him eagerly because you’re desperate for his touch. You kiss him passionately because there are things you feel that you can’t put into words yet, and this is how you tell him. 
He’s quick to follow your pace, wrapping his arms around your waist as he helps you sit on his lap. Your fingers comb through his hair and grip his top and pull him closer, all while you grind against him and moan in his mouth. 
But when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and caresses your cheek, you go tender. 
“I love you so much,” he whispers against your lips, and all you feel is the warmth of his touch and how it’s all the comfort and security and stability that you need.
You slowly pull away and graze your nose against his. You don’t say anything else and he doesn’t expect you to. But you kiss his cheek and hug him, and you hear him sigh in relief.
He pulls away and cheekily smiles. 
“You know, there’s a song for this.”
“A—what?” You laugh.
“A song.”
He pulls away from you then stands from the bed. “Let me get it from Jimin’s room.”
You stare at him questioningly because you really didn’t think he could surprise you even more. He returns with one of his burned CDs and you ask him if he has a sex playlist or something. 
“I used to daydream about you to this,” he says, as he puts it in the CD player that your parents got you for your 17th birthday. “I listened to it after that very kiss we had and, well, we’re back home rehashing so many memories and I kinda just want to fulfill another fantasy of mine.”
He plays the song and the first notes get you all giddy and excited and nostalgic and very much turned on. 
“This was my favorite song,” you say, as you signal him to come closer.
“I know. You played it all the time, I could hear it from the other room.”
You giggle, and it’s a sound he wants to listen to forever. 
“So, what’s this fantasy of yours?” You ask, as you take your shirt off.
He licks his lips at the breathtaking sight of you, but he softens at the fairy tattoo on your shoulder, the one he customized and that you love showing off.
“Just… make love to you while this plays in the background,” he manages to say. 
Your face softens, too, and it’s a sight he also wants to see everyday of his life.
“I’m all yours, Kook. Do whatever you please.”
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It’s a week later when you tell him. 
You’d just gotten back from that short trip to a resort that had you relaxed and stuffed with food. You video called with your parents during their sunset cruise and your father once again teased about not being grandparents yet and just like the first time, you brushed it off. 
You’re lying on Jungkook’s chest as you laugh about Jimin’s terrible bowling skills. And in the silence, he asks, “does it bother you that your parents expect you to have kids?”
You knew he’d picked up on it the first time, but it’s just now that he’s bringing it up.
“A little. I try not to think about it though,” you sigh. “It’s another one of those expectations, you know? But I guess it’s a harder thing to talk to them about, that I don’t know if I want kids.”
He just hums and combs your hair with his fingers.
“Does it bother you?” You ask, suddenly feeling nervous. You know enough this is a make-or-break for many people. 
“Not really,” he says. “It’s not easy to raise a child, much less carry one, and that’s something I can’t do for you. But I guess, it doesn’t matter. We can have kids. Or not. We can have a dog or a pet tortoise or a fish, really. When I think of a future, all I see is you. The rest is just a bonus.”
He speaks of your future with such certainty. He’s always talked about enjoying the moments but the one version of a future he wants is the one where you’re with him. 
“I just want you to know that whatever you’re worried about, share it with me. I don’t want you to worry about me. We do this together. We figure it out together,” he adds. 
And just like that, the fears and pressure you feel slowly dissipate. He’s the only version of the future you want. Everything else is just a bonus. 
You turn to him with a kiss on his cheek. 
“I love you, Kook. I don’t want anyone else to love me, and I don’t want to love anybody else,” you whisper like a plea, just like a promise. 
“I’m not loving anybody else,” he kisses you. 
And it’s his own promise he makes.
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art ¡ 9 months ago
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Creator Spotlight: @camberdraws
Hello! My name is Camber (any pronouns), and I’m a mixed media illustrator located in the southwestern United States. I love drawing everything, but I have a special interest in depicting strange creatures and environments, often accompanied by abstract imagery and mark-making. Professionally, I’ve worked creating concept art and 2D assets for museum exhibits, but currently, I am engaged full-time as a software developer and make standalone illustrations in my free time. I’ve been posting art on Tumblr since I was a teenager, and the site has been very welcoming towards my work to this very day!
Check out Camber’s interview below!
Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?
I’ve had an interest in drawing since I was barely sentient, but at thirteen years old I decided to become “serious” about art. I was all about reading tutorials and doing a ton of studies. I would tote my heavy instructional art books to school every single day (my poor back!) Despite all this, I decided to forgo art school in favor of a bachelor’s degree in Computer Science at my local college. Alongside my major, I received a minor in Art Studio with a specialization in fine art, which totally changed my views on creating artwork and drastically changed my style.
How has your style developed over the years?
As mentioned previously, my style did a 180 after I studied under some very skilled fine art professors! As a kid, my drawings were very realism-heavy and inspired by video game concept art. I mostly worked digitally, too. During college, I was thrown for a loop when we were instructed to do strange things like, for example, make a bunch of marks on paper using pastel, WITHOUT looking, and then turn said marks into a finished piece of art! I quickly and deeply fell in love with abstract work, and especially appreciated images that are not easily parsed by the viewer. Since then, I’ve made it my goal to combine abstract mark-making with more representational subject matter.
What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?
Hmmm, one habit I really enjoy as an artist is strictly tracking the amount of time I spend drawing! I currently work a full-time job wholly unrelated to art, so I have to be careful with my time if I want to spend enough hours drawing each week. I created a spreadsheet that allows you to enter the amount of minutes you’ve drawn each day and calculate how much drawing time you still need to reach your weekly goal (I aim for 20 hours a week.) Having such a clear, numbers-based objective keeps me motivated to work like nothing else!
Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?
I know this is a common inspiration, but Hayao Miyazaki’s work has been rewiring my neurons since I was a child. Seemingly all of my artistic interests can be summed up by the movie Princess Mononoke: it has strange/abstract creature designs, a strong focus on nature and environmental storytelling, and a mix of dark and hopeful themes. Additionally, I’ve been deeply inspired by video game series such as Zelda, Okami, Pikmin, and Dark Souls. But arguably, none of these have influenced me more than Pokemon! I’ve been drawing Pokemon since I could barely hold a pencil, and I haven’t stopped since! I believe my love of designing creatures originated with my endless deluge of Pokemon fanart during my childhood.
What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?
I’ve always been fascinated by 3D mediums and am so tempted to try them out! Whether that’s 3D models created digitally or sculptures made from clay, I profoundly admire artists who have this skill. Oftentimes, it feels like I don’t have time to delve into a totally different artistic paradigm. However, I feel very strongly that learning new skills can enrich your current work. I should take that advice and someday give 3D mediums a shot!
What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?
I am in the process of creating an art book (a dream of mine!) and have been executing smaller drawings of concepts I find interesting from both a visual and storytelling standpoint. A recent drawing for said book is that of a snail made of ink with an ink bottle as a shell, and it went absolutely viral! I’ve never had an experience like this as an artist before and it has been spectacular! I was able to open a shop using my newly acquired art printer and sell many prints of my snail. Creating something original, directly stemming from my interests, and having that resonate with so many people has been unreal. I couldn’t ask for more as an artist!
What advice would you give to younger you about making art that’s personal or truthful to your own experiences?
I would tell my younger self to chill out and experiment more! I was so caught up in the idea that I needed to have a realistic style to be considered “good.” I also believed that technical skill was the only measure of how worthy my art was. That’s not to say technical skill doesn’t matter, but I now firmly believe the creativity and voice of your ideas far outweigh the skill of execution in terms of importance. Technical skills should elevate ideas, not the other way around. Once I began to revel in strange ideas and stories for my work, depicted oftentimes in odd styles or mediums, I truly found my voice as an artist.
Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
My peers here on Tumblr inspire me more than anything! Sharing my work with contemporaries and giving each other support brings me joy like no other, and keeps me motivated to continue creating. I wouldn’t be where I am today without them! @beetlestench, @theogm-art, @trustyalt, @ratwednesday, @phantom-nisnow, @svltart, @mintsdraws, @mothhh-hh, @jupiterweathers, @thesewispsofsmoke, @picoffee, @fetchiko, @kaisei-ink, and @pine-niidles just to name only a few!
Thanks for stopping by, Camber! If you haven’t seen their Meet the Artist piece, check it out here. For more of Camber’s work, follow their Tumblr, @camberdraws!
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paxtito ¡ 2 months ago
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grey sweatpants
parings: tara x reader (g!p)
word count: 4048
warnings: smut 18+, swearing, reader has a dick, oral sex, fingering and p in v
summary: tara’s tiktok feed has been filled with people buying their partners grey sweatpants, it’s supposed to exaggerate certain… features. she drags you along to the shop to buy a pair and let’s just say, she definitely likes it
a/n: wrote this while listening to the car by arctic monkeys, i will not tolerate hate towards their newer stuff- apologies in advance for any mistakes
MASTERLIST
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You’re barely two steps inside the store when Tara’s hand closes around your wrist, dragging you through the aisles with a surprising amount of strength for someone so small. Her eyes are lit up with that determined gleam that usually spells trouble—or something about to become very memorable. You’re not sure which it’ll be, but you follow, grinning.
“We’re not leaving until you’ve tried on at least five pairs,” she declares, her voice laced with mischievous excitement.
“Five?” you laugh, letting her pull you deeper into the clothing section. “Don’t you think that’s a little…excessive?”
“Nope,” she says, without even a second of hesitation. She looks back at you with a smirk. “You need options. And I need the perfect pair.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Perfect pair for what?”
She stops in front of a display of grey sweatpants, eyeing them like they’re some sort of rare, mythical artifact. Tara’s fingers brush over a pair of heather grey joggers, and she glances up at you with that mischievous glint you’ve come to know all too well.
“For…reasons,” she says cryptically, shooting you a playful wink that makes your cheeks warm.
“Oh, I see,” you tease, crossing your arms. “This has nothing to do with all those TikToks about guys in grey sweatpants?”
She shrugs, pretending to look innocent, but there’s no hiding the tiny grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Well, maybe I’ve been…inspired.”
“Maybe?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. “Tara, you’ve been obsessed with those videos ever since we started dating.”
She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Okay, fine, I have! But can you blame me? I mean, just imagine…” Her voice drops to a whisper, her gaze drifting downward suggestively.
You follow her line of sight, realizing with a jolt of heat under your skin exactly what she’s talking about. You can’t help but chuckle, shaking your head at her antics.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so excited about sweatpants before,” you say, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“That’s because these aren’t just any sweatpants,” she insists, her tone serious despite the blush creeping up her cheeks. “These are…strategic sweatpants.”
You blink, trying to hide your amusement. “Strategic?”
She nods vigorously. “Yeah! They’re supposed to be like…the perfect fit. Not too tight, not too loose. Just enough to, you know…highlight the goods.”
You can’t help but laugh at her bluntness, even as your heart flutters at the thought of her wanting to showcase your assets like that.
“And you think these ones will do the trick?” you ask, motioning towards the display.
Tara grins, already reaching for a pair in your size. “Oh, definitely. Trust me, Y/N, once you put these on…you’ll understand why I’m so excited.”
You watch as she practically skips towards the changing rooms, holding out the sweatpants for you to take. There’s a glint in her eyes that promises mischief and fun, and you can’t help but smile, following her lead.
Tara practically bounces on her toes as she waits for you outside the changing room, clutching the sweatpants to her chest like they’re a precious treasure. You can hear her humming to herself, a tune that sounds suspiciously like the jingle from one of those infamous TikTok videos.
Finally, you emerge from the changing room, feeling a bit self-conscious as you model the grey joggers for her. They fit snugly around your waist, tapering down to a comfortable width at the ankle. The material is soft against your skin, and you have to admit, they feel pretty good.
But it’s the reaction on Tara’s face that really catches your attention. Her eyes widen, her mouth falling open in a perfect ‘O’ of surprise. For a moment, she seems at a loss for words, which is a rarity for her.
Then, slowly, a grin spreads across her face, growing wider and wider until she’s practically beaming at you.
“Oh my god,” she breathes, stepping closer to get a better look. “Y/N, you look…wow.”
You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks at her obvious approval. It’s not often that you’re the center of attention like this, and Tara’s undivided focus is both thrilling and a little intimidating.
“What’s so ‘wow’ about them? I’m starting to think you’re going mad.”
Tara giggles, shaking her head. "Trust me, you look amazing. I mean, seriously, how did I get so lucky?"
She reaches out, running her fingers along the waistband of the sweatpants. Her touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you suddenly find yourself acutely aware of just how close she is standing.
"It's like... they were made for you," she murmurs, her voice low and appreciative. "They just...highlight everything so perfectly.”
You feel your face flush even hotter at her words, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure coursing through you. Tara's gaze is fixed on you, her eyes dark with a hunger that makes your breath catch.
"I'm serious, Y/N," she says, her tone turning playful. "You could give those TikTok guys a run for their money. I might just have to keep you in these pants all the time."
She winks at you, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. You laugh, shaking your head at her antics, but there's no denying the way your heart races at the thought of her wanting to keep you close.
"Alright, alright," you say, holding up your hands in mock surrender.
"Alright, alright, I guess these sweatpants are a keeper then," you chuckle, giving in to Tara's persuasive charms. "Let's go pay for them so we can get out of here." You say, disappearing back into the changing rooms.
Once you return, Tara's face lights up with pure delight, and she practically skips towards the checkout counter, clutching the sweatpants to her chest like a prized possession. You follow behind her, amused by her enthusiasm and finding yourself caught up in her excitement.
As you wait in line, Tara can't seem to stop touching the fabric of the sweatpants, running her fingers along the waistband and smoothing out the legs. It's almost like she's memorizing every detail, committing it to memory for later.
"I can't believe we found them," she says, glancing up at you with a grin. "I mean, it's like fate or something, right? Like the universe knew exactly what I needed and put them right in our path."
You roll your eyes, but you can't help the smile tugging at your lips. "Sure, Tara. The universe is totally conspiring to make you happy."
"Hey, don't knock it," she says, nudging you playfully with her elbow. "Sometimes the universe just knows what's up."
As you finally reach the front of the line, Tara practically vibrates with anticipation, her eyes darting between you and the sweatpants like she's afraid they might disappear at any moment. When the cashier rings them up, Tara practically lunges for her wallet, eager to make the purchase official.
"There," she says triumphantly, clutching the bag with the sweatpants inside like a lifeline. "Now they're mine. All mine."
You can't help but laugh at her dramatic flair, but there's a part of you that's touched by her enthusiasm. It's not often that someone gets so excited about something so simple, but with Tara, everything feels special.
"Alright, let's get out of here," you say, looping your arm through hers. "I think you've had enough excitement for one day. Crazy girl.”
As you leave the store, Tara clutches the bag containing the sweatpants like a precious treasure. She can't stop grinning, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous light that makes your heart skip a beat.
"I can't wait to see you in these," she says, her voice low and sultry as you walk side by side. "I mean, seriously, Y/N, you're going to look so hot. I might not be able to control myself.”
You feel a blush creeping up your neck at her words, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coursing through you. “You just saw them on me, dumbass.”
Tara can't help but laugh at your comment, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Yeah, but that was in the store. I want to see you in them in...private."
Her voice drops to a whisper on the last word, and you feel a shiver run down your spine at the implication. Tara's hand finds yours, her fingers intertwining with yours as you walk.
"Come on," she says, tugging you gently towards the car. "Let's go back to my place so you can model them for me properly."
You let her lead you, your heart racing with anticipation. The drive back to Tara's apartment is filled with playful banter and stolen glances, the tension between you growing with each passing minute.
When you finally arrive, Tara practically drags you inside, her eagerness palpable. She kicks off her shoes and tosses her keys on the table by the door, then turns to you with a grin.
"Alright, Y/N," she says, her voice teasing. "Show me what you've got."
You feel a surge of confidence wash over you as you slip into the bedroom, the sweatpants hugging your curves in all the right places. When you turn to face Tara, her eyes widen, and she lets out a low whistle of appreciation.
"Damn," she breathes, taking a step closer. "I was right. You look absolutely incredible in those."
Her hands come to rest on your hips, her thumbs rubbing small circles against the fabric. You can feel the heat of her body seeping through the thin material, and it takes everything in you not to shiver.
"I think I might have to keep you in these forever," Tara murmurs, leaning in close. "Just so I can look at you like this all the time."
You can feel Tara's eyes roaming over your body, taking in every curve and every contour. There's a hunger in her gaze that sends a thrill straight to your core, and you can't help but squirm a little under her scrutiny.
"You know," she says, her voice low and husky, "I think these sweats were made for you. Like, specifically designed to show off every inch of your body."
You feel your face flush at her words, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coursing through you. It's not often that someone looks at you like this, like they want to devour you whole.
Tara's hands slide up your sides, her fingers tracing the lines of your body through the fabric of the sweatpants. You can feel the heat of her touch even through the thin material, and it makes your breath catch in your throat.
"I mean, look at you," she continues, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You're fucking perfect, Y/N. Every single inch of you."
Her hands come to rest on your hips, her thumbs rubbing small circles against your skin. You can feel the pressure building inside you, a need that's growing stronger with each passing second.
"Tara," you breathe, your voice trembling slightly. "Please..."
She doesn't need any more encouragement. In one swift motion, she's pushing you back onto the bed, her body covering yours. Her lips find yours in a searing kiss, and you moan into her mouth, your hands fisting in her shirt.
Tara breaks the kiss, trailing her lips down your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. You arch into her touch, desperate for more.
"Fuck, Y/N," she groans, her hand sliding down your body, cupping you through the sweatpants. "You're so hard already. I love how much you want me."
You gasp as she strokes you through the fabric, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Your hips buck up into her hand, seeking more of that delicious contact.
Tara's hand slips under the waistband of your sweatpants, her fingers brushing against the hot, hard length of your cock. She groans at the feel of it, her hand wrapping around you and stroking slowly from base to tip.
"God, Y/N," she murmurs, her breath hot against your neck. "You're so fucking perfect. I can't get enough of you."
Her other hand works at the button of your sweatpants, tugging them down over your hips. You lift up to help her, eager to feel her skin against yours.
Once your pants are off, Tara takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, her eyes dark with desire. "You're so beautiful," she whispers, her hand stroking you again, slower this time. "I can't believe you're all mine."
She leans down, her tongue flicking out to taste the tip of your cock. You gasp at the sensation, your hips bucking up into her touch. Tara smiles against your skin, her lips wrapping around you and taking you deep into her mouth.
You moan, your hands fisting in the sheets beneath you. Tara's mouth is hot and wet, her tongue swirling around you in a way that makes your toes curl. She bobs her head, taking you deeper with each pass, her hand stroking what she can't fit in her mouth.
Tara looks up at you with a question in her eyes as you gently push her away. She releases your throbbing length with a soft pop, her lips glistening with your precum.
"Y/N?" she asks, her voice a mixture of confusion and concern. "Is everything okay?"
You swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts. The sight of her kneeling between your legs, her hand still wrapped around your shaft, is almost too much to bear. But you force yourself to focus, determined to give her the pleasure she deserves.
"Everything's perfect," you murmur, reaching out to cup her cheek. "But I want to focus on you for a bit. I want to make you feel good."
Understanding dawns in Tara's eyes, and a slow, sultry smile spreads across her face. "Oh, is that so?" she purrs, leaning into your touch. "Well, far be it from me to deny you."
She shifts back on her knees, allowing you to sit up. Your cock twitches at the change in position, bobbing heavily between your legs. Tara's gaze is drawn to it, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
"Fuck, you're so hot," she breathes, her hand reaching out to wrap around you once more. "I can't believe I get to have you like this."
You groan at her touch, your hips rocking forward into her grip. But you force yourself to pull back, needing to maintain control. You reach out, gently pushing Tara onto her back, your body hovering over hers.
"Shh, just relax," you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear. "Let me take care of you."
You start by kissing her deeply, your tongue delving into her mouth to taste her. Tara moans into the kiss, her hands coming up to tangle in your hair. You trail your lips down her neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.
Tara arches beneath you, her breasts pressing against your chest. You can feel her nipples hardening, even through the fabric of her shirt. Your hand slips beneath the hem, your fingers skimming over the soft skin of her stomach.
Tara gasps as your hand slides higher, your fingers brushing against the underside of her breasts. You can feel the heat of her skin even through the fabric of her bra, and it makes your mouth water with the desire to taste her.
"Y/N," she breathes, her voice thick with need. "Please, touch me."
You don't need any more encouragement. Your hand cups her breast, your thumb brushing over her nipple and making it harden even more. Tara arches into your touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.
"Fuck, that feels good," she gasps, her hips bucking up against you. "Don't stop."
You switch to her other breast, giving it the same treatment. Tara's hands fist in the sheets beneath her, her body trembling with pleasure. You can feel the heat building between your legs, your cock throbbing with the need to be inside her.
But you resist, determined to make this about her pleasure. Your hand slides down her body, over her stomach and down to the waistband of her sweats. You hook your fingers under the fabric, tugging it down slowly.
Tara lifts her hips to help you, and soon she's lying before you, completely bare. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of her, her skin glowing in the soft light of the room.
"You're so beautiful," you murmur, your hand sliding back up her thigh. "I can't believe I get to touch you like this."
Tara's cheeks flush at your words, a shy smile spreading across her face. "I'm glad it's you," she whispers. "I trust you, Y/N. I know you'll make me feel good."
Your fingers brush against her core, and she gasps, her hips bucking up into your touch. You circle her clit with your finger, feeling it grow harder under your touch.
"Oh fuck," Tara moans, her head falling back against the pillow. "That feels amazing."
You continue to tease her, your fingers dipping lower to brush against her entrance. She's wet and ready for you, and the knowledge makes your cock throb with need.
Tara's hips buck up against your hand, her body begging for more. You can feel her wetness coating your fingers, and it takes every ounce of willpower you have not to plunge them inside her.
Instead, you focus on her clit, circling it with your thumb while your fingers tease her entrance. Tara's moans fill the room, her hands fisting in the sheets beneath her as she arches into your touch.
"Please, Y/N," she gasps, her voice strained with need. "I need more. I need you inside me."
You can't resist her pleas any longer. Sliding two fingers inside her, you groan at the feel of her tight heat surrounding you. Tara cries out, her walls clenching around your digits as you pump them in and out.
"Fuck, you're so tight," you murmur, your thumb continuing to work her clit. "I love how you feel around my fingers."
Tara's hips move in time with your thrusts, her body taking you deeper with each pass. You can feel her getting closer, her breathing growing more ragged with each passing second.
"Y/N," she moans, her head thrashing on the pillow. "I'm gonna... fuck, I'm gonna come."
You redouble your efforts, your fingers moving faster, harder. Tara's body tenses beneath you, her walls fluttering around your fingers as she teeters on the edge.
"Come for me, baby," you encourage her, your voice rough with need. "Let go. I've got you."
With a cry that's almost primal, Tara comes undone. Her body bows off the bed, her back arching as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her. You continue to stroke her through it, prolonging her orgasm until she's a boneless heap beneath you.
As she comes down from her high, Tara looks up at you with hazy, satisfied eyes. "Holy shit," she breathes, a lazy smile spreading across her face. "That was incredible."
You grin down at her, feeling a sense of pride at having brought her such pleasure. But you’re still throbbing with need, and it won’t be go anywhere any time soon.
As the haze of post-orgasmic bliss starts to fade, Tara's gaze drifts down to your still-throbbing erection. Her eyes widen slightly, a mix of hunger and concern flickering across her face.
"Y/N," she murmurs, her hand reaching out to wrap around your shaft. "You're still so hard. Do you... do you want me to take care of that for you?"
You groan at her touch, your hips bucking up into her grip. The feel of her soft hand wrapped around your sensitive flesh is almost too much to bear. But you force yourself to take a deep breath, knowing that there's something important you need to address first.
"Wait," you say, gently removing her hand from your cock. "Before we go any further, we need to talk about protection."
Tara blinks up at you, a little confused. "Protection? What do you mean?"
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. This isn't exactly the sexiest topic, but it's a necessary one. "I mean condoms, Tara. We can't just jump into having sex without them. It's not safe."
A flicker of understanding crosses her face, followed by a sheepish grin. "Oh, right. Of course. I wasn't thinking straight."
You smile at her, relieved that she's on the same page. "It's okay. It's easy to get caught up in the moment. But we need to make sure we're being responsible.
Tara nods, her hand reaching for the nightstand drawer. She rummages around for a moment before pulling out a foil packet. "Looks like I'm prepared after all," she says with a wink.
You take the condom from her, tearing it open with your teeth. Tara watches as you roll it down over your shaft, her eyes darkening with desire at the sight.
"Fuck, that's hot," she murmurs, her hand wrapping around you once more. "Seeing you take charge like that."
You grin at her, giving her hand a squeeze. "I'm glad you approve. Now, where were we?"
Tara's eyes sparkle with mischief as she pulls you towards her, guiding you to lie on top of her once more. "I think we were right about here," she purrs, her legs parting invitingly.
The heat of her core radiates against your protected length, making you shiver with anticipation. You line yourself up with her entrance, teasing her with the tip of your cock.
"Are you ready for me?" you murmur, your breath hot against her neck.
Tara nods, her hips lifting in a silent plea. "I've never been more ready for anything in my life," she breathes, her nails digging into your shoulders.
With a slow, deliberate thrust, you push forward, feeling her tight heat envelop you. Tara gasps at the intrusion, her walls stretching to accommodate your size.
"Oh fuck," she moans, her head falling back against the pillow. "You're so big, Y/N. It feels amazing."
You groan at her words, the sensation of her tightness driving you wild. You start to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, setting a steady rhythm.
Tara meets your movements, her hips rising to greet each thrust. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, punctuated by your shared moans of pleasure.
"Harder," Tara gasps, her nails raking down your back. "Fuck me harder, Y/N."
You oblige, increasing the speed and force of your thrusts. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful drive of your hips.
Tara's legs wrap around your waist, her ankles locking at the small of your back. The new angle allows you to go even deeper, and you feel her tightening around you, signaling her impending release.
"Y/N," she cries out, her voice strained with pleasure. "I'm gonna come again. Don't stop, please don't stop."
You redouble your efforts, pounding into her with abandon. The feeling of her walls fluttering around you is almost too much to bear, and you can feel your own release building.
Tara cries out, her body arching off the bed as another orgasm rips through her. Her walls clamp down around you, milking your cock for all it's worth. The sensation is too much to bear, and with a final, guttural groan, you come undone.
Your hips stutter as you empty yourself inside the condom, your body shaking with the force of your release. Tara holds you close, her fingers threading through your hair as she whispers sweet nothings in your ear.
As you both come down from your highs, you collapse onto the bed, your bodies tangled together in a sweaty heap. Tara nuzzles into your neck, placing soft kisses along your jawline.
"That was incredible," she murmurs, her voice hoarse from screaming. "I've never felt anything like that before."
You grin at her, pulling her closer. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," you say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Because we're definitely doing that again.
Tara laughs, the sound bright and carefree. "I wouldn't have it any other way," she says, her fingers tracing patterns on your chest.
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coinbasetradingguide ¡ 3 months ago
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souporsaladnatural ¡ 6 months ago
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Transcription of Jensen's full answer from That Part of his and Misha's panel
[Misha laughs, Jensen goes to speak but looks down shaking his head and grinning]
Jensen: “God… [Crowd laughs] Uh, professionally, [Crowd laughs again][...]”
Misha: “And you put that in air quotes.”
Jensen: “[Laughs] Use that term loosely. Uhm, there- there is- uh- there’s- there’s few people that, when the cameras are rolling, you get to um… truly create, moments that aren't on the page. Uhm, and it’s- it’s hard sometimes to find rhythm, and cohesiveness with everyone you work with. Uhh, and when you find the- the rare person that um, can- can, uh, play at a level that… makes you wanna be better, and also it almost is like a- it’s like a high that you get, when the creative juices are flowing and you're- you’re making moments that maybe didn't even plan to be there. ‘Happy accidents’ we used to call them. Of- Of emotion, or, uh- between-the-lines, uh- nuance moments.
And I think there’s a reason that the story of- of Dean and Cas skewed to where it was, was because, uh, I kept- kept being able to have that creative, um, ignition with Mish when- when those cameras were rolling that was uhh- that made me a better actor, uhm, and- and made me wanna be- wanna find that even more. And… and it’s- it’s a testament to not just his, uh, his talent but his- the way he preps, the way he plays, the way he- he uh, entertains, and performs. Um, there’s- there’s just such a uh, there’s such an openness. I say that um, that as- as an actor, you know people have asked me ‘I wanna be an actor, do you have any, uh, advice?’ I say ‘Know your stuff, but be emotionally available to any and everything when the cameras are rolling.’ And that is when you find the magic. And… the magic was always there when Misha would walk on set and those cameras would roll. So I think professionally that was one of the great assets that he brought on a daily basis, that I- that I got to be the beneficiary of.
In fact all- everybody, anybody that got to work with him, if they were available to it, and they noticed what he was doing was- was, you know, so nuanced, um, that it made them better. Um, so I really appreciate that gift of getting to work with him. Uh, the scene where he tells Dean goodbye, uhm, I- I- I blanked in that- in that scene. Because I became an audience member. I just simply was watching this unbelievable performance unfold and I had the best seat in the house. And then it was like my turn to speak and I was like ‘Oh, shit, uhm.’ I said ’Don’t ruin this for him, don’t ruin this for him.’ Uh, so when you get to work with somebody that has that level of talent and that level of expertise and- and- and knows how to- how to utilize performance the way he does, it just- um- it’s just really a gift.
Uhh personally, uh- the- he- he disgusts me. Um. [Crowd laughs] He’s just so dry that the oil never worked. [Crowd and Misha laughs] Buckets, of buckets of oil, it just… No, he- uh- I will say this, he’s- um- he- he’s such a man of- of many talents outside of just the acting field, uh, that it- it does truly disgust me sometimes. When he- in our meet and greet he’s like ‘What kind of hobbies do you have?’ and he’s like ‘Oh, I like to go into the woods and make furniture.’ I’m like ‘No!’ [crowd laughs] No! I see on- He’s like ‘What’d you do this weekend?’ ‘Oh, I went and like forged metal things with my kid-’ No! [Misha and crowd laugh]
Um… he’s such an amazing dad, he’s such an amazing friend, um… and… and uh, I mean this is very self-serving, but uh, it’s- um- he’s- he’s on the extreme short list of people that I would, that I would call, if I had a problem.”
[Misha gets up to hug Jensen, and Jensen immediately retreats to the other side of the stage. Misha hugs him, whispers something in his ear, and Jensen grins and hugs him back. They walk back to their seats]
Jensen: “[whispered into mic] He told me he loved me!”
What in the fuck was in the water this weekend
[Video] [Misha's Answer]
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tired-and-ticklish ¡ 14 days ago
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Employee Training
Disclaimer: This is a tickle fic, so if that isn’t your thing, then just ignore this. 
Summary: Jax isn’t taking his job seriously, so Gangle decides he needs some extra… training.
TW: Tickling (maybe a bit intense?), Restraints, Jax Being Jax, Spoilers for Episode 4: Fast Food Masquerade.
(Let’s face it, a lot of us saw that scene and were all thinking the same thing.)
Working a normal fast food job wasn’t at the top of Jax’s list of adventures. He’d rather be back at the circus, putting more centipedes in Ragatha’s room or stealing Zooble’s parts. But instead, he and the others were forced to work a terrible minimum wage job with an annoying Gangle as their shift manager.  Hell, it was the crybaby’s idea in the first place!
“Ooooh Jaaaaax~!” Speaking of the pain in his tail, Gangle called out from behind the rabbit, that stupid smile from the mask Zooble gave her still plastered across her face.
“The bathroom looks like a biohazard and needs a good scrubbin’!” Gangle told him.
“Shouldn’t like, a biohazard crew take care of that?” Jax asked, not wanting to put in anymore effort than the job was already requiring.
Gangle laughed. “Ohoh, Jaxy boy, don’t you want to be a model employee?”
“No, I don’t care about any of this.” Jax responded, crossing his arms.
“Well, that doesn’t sound like a can-do attitude to me!”
God, was she getting more annoying? “It’s not.”
Another laugh, simply followed by one word. “Bad.”
“I like you better when you’re sad.”
There was a sound, like glass cracking, but Jax ignored it. Honestly, the whole ‘chipper, happy-go-lucky’ attitude Gangle had at the current moment was making him wish they had stuck to the butcher adventure Caine suggested in the first place. Darn Pomni, darn suggestion box, darn not being able to actually swear in this Hell hole called a circus.
“Well..” Gangle replied, Jax either not noticing, or more likely, not caring, how close she sounded to strangling him. “Maybe you need some more…”
She paused, like Caine did sometimes, it was a bit uncanny to see. “More-”
“Training!” Gangle interrupted before he could finish.
Suddenly, two hands grabbed Jax, squishing him like a squeaky toy before dragging him into the back of the restaurant. Once they let go of him, Jax was shocked to find himself in a completely empty, dark room, save for the TV that suddenly turned on. On it was an employee training video, complete with the ‘motivational music, staring and made by Gangle, explaining how it would teach him how to be a good team member and asset to the cooperation.
Jax questioned when Gangle even made the video. Or maybe it was Caine’s doing? The adventures made no sense, so why did he expect a ‘normal’ one to make sense? The way the Gangle in the video spoke made Jax uncomfortable, talking about how dreams were unrealistic, and to stop trying. It was like she was losing it.
“But before we get into all that, first things first!” The Video-Gangle asked, smiling. “Are you smiling?”
“Uh, no…?” 
The music stopped. “Why not…?” Gangle wasn’t smiling anymore, just staring right at him.
Faster than Jax could respond, he was suddenly in a chair, four mechanical arms coming out and grabbing his limbs. They twisted him a few different ways, before shoving his face right into the TV. “Wait- Wait wait! N-Nobody can see this… right?” Jax asked nervously, suddenly regretting any and all decisions in his life that had led to this moment.
“Time for your employee reevaluation!”
With that, the robotic limbs pulled Jax back into the chair, his arms pulled up as far as they would go, his legs pinned down to the leg rest. Jax’s eyes darted around the room, trying to see anything he could use to try to free himself. He couldn’t move, couldn’t escape, couldn’t stop whatever Gangle had planned for him. 
“As an employee, you have to remember to smile!” The video continued, Gangle sounding more and more manic. “Don’t worry, we can help you with that!”
More arms popped out of the chair, Jax feeling his heart skip a few beats when he saw what the hands were doing, wiggling their fingers at him teasingly. Gangle couldn’t be serious, right?! His dread only grew as two of the hands removed his shoes, another unbuttoning his work shirt.
“G-Gangle wait wait wait! I-I-I’m smiling! I’m smiling!” Jax cried in a panic, trying to pull his arms down. “Y-You don’t have to do this!”
The Video-Gangle tsked lightly “Silly, we have to make sure our employees know that we serve with a smile~!” A sinister giggle came from her as she said that.
Jax swore he was going to find a way to break that plastic mask Zooble gave her! However, his thoughts of revenge were put on hold as one of the hands made a few test pokes to his stomach, causing him to jolt. This was bad, the way Jax’s body had been designed in this digital world physically made him unable to bite his lip, so that strategy was out the window. Seems like the jolts he made were all the hands needed, descending upon him.
“W-Wahahahit wahhait nohhohohoho!” Jax snorted, trying to twist and turn away from the devilish hands.
“See, isn’t that better~?” Video-Gangle asked, her ribbons wiggling as well “I’ll check on you in a while!”
A while?! How long was a while?! The darn clock seemed busted, what if he was in there for hours?! Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Gangle, or the robotic arms cared, the TV turning off as a pair of hands attacked his armpits.
“N-Nohohohoh nohohoho come bahahahack!” Jax pleaded. “I-Ihihihih’m smihihihihihling!”
The robotic hands continued their assault, gently tracing around his armpits, while the ones on his stomach dug right in, causing him to attempt to kick his legs. They hadn’t exactly gotten to his absolute worst spots yet, but Jax had a feeling it was only a matter of time. His paws were exposed, and he could swear he could sense two hands just behind his ears, waiting for the go-ahead to strike.
“Cohohohohome ohohohohon!”
He really hated how much they could actually feel in the circus sometimes. Sure, it was funny to see the others in pain, or watch their panic as he attacked their own worst spots, but having the tables turned on him? It also didn’t help that, thanks to Gangle, the arms knew exactly where his worst spots were, and how harshly or softly to tickle them to drive him up the wall. 
Case in point, one hand swirling a finger right on his navel, threatening to tickle the inside, while also cruelly never actually doing it. The ones on his armpits spidered up and down, even attacking his ribs at a few points. Jax wasn’t sure how long the tickling had gone on for, before the TV turned back on, Gangle’s face smiling at him. The hands stopped, allowing the rabbit to catch his breath. The relief Jax felt was short-lived, however, as the Video-Gangle spoke again. “Step one of your employee reevaluation is complete!” Gangle told him, sounding proud. “Now that you’re smiling, we’ve got to work on your attitude! Being rude to customers, or other coworkers, especially by throwing them in the deep fryer, is strictly forbidden at Spudsy’s!”
“Come on, it’s not like Rags was hurt all that badly.” Jax tried to argue, before immediately regretting it as he noticed the arms were grabbing something just out of his field of vision, making him dread whatever would be next.
“That’s the kind of attitude I’m talking about!” Video-Gangle huffed, before smiling again. “So, I thought you could use some extra motivation!”
Jax’s heart, or, what he supposed he could call a heart in this digital body, nearly stopped as the mechanical hands came back with paint brushes.
“Oh… [trumpet honk]...” The rabbit responded in disbelief. “Y-You’re not actually [quack]ing serious, r-right?!”
Unfortunately for him, Gangle was dead serious, as the paintbrushes glided up and down his paws, making him snort. The pair of hands by his head also got in on the action, softly, slowly, and tortuously rubbing up and down the insides of ears, making him scream out in ticklish agony.
“GA-GAHAHAHANGLE NOHOHOHOHO!”
“Aww don’t worry, I’ll check on you in a while again!” More random noises came from Jax’s mouth, trying to swear, but instead there were a few more musical instrument noises, a car honk, and even a cow moo at one point. That only seemed to encourage the hands to be even harsher toward him, one of the paintbrushes going in between his toes. Jax howled with laughter, trying to twist and turn away from his fate.
“IIHIHIHIHIHIH HAHAHAHAHATE THIHIHIHIHIHIS STUHUHUHUHUHPID AHAHAHAHAHAVEHEHEHENTURE!”
Jax then let out an uncharacteristic squeal as he felt feathers brushing up and down his ears. This was maddening! As the paintbrushes picked up their pace, Jax felt a horrible thought enter his mind. Would Gangle actually let him out of here? Or would she just keep him there until the end of the adventure, making sure he couldn’t destroy anything or cause problems for anyone else? “P-PLEHEHEHEASE PLHEHEHEHEASE IIHIHIHIHI’LL BEHEHEHEHEHAVE!” Jax cried out desperately.
It seemed to work, as the tickling suddenly stopped, the arms releasing him. Jax caught his breath, feeling a few phantom tickles linger. He brought his hands up to his ears, trying to rub the tingling sensation away as the TV turned back on.
“Thank you, valued employee, for deciding to be a team player!” Video-Gangle told him, looking happy, proud, and… relieved? Maybe Jax was imagining things. “Of course, here at Spudsy’s, we respect our employees needing time for themselves, so you may take a few moments to get yourself together before heading back out there!”
Small mercies, Jax supposed. “You’re uh… not going to tell anyone about this, right?”
Video-Gangle simply giggled, before the TV turned off once again, leaving Jax alone with his thoughts. Well, he supposed this made both of them even, in a way. Jax knew about the figurine thing, and Gangle managed to make him beg for mercy. He shook his head, getting his dumb uniform back in order. Once he was more composed, one of the large hands from before gently pushed him out of the room and back into the work area, patting his head before disappearing to God knows where.
Back to work, Jax supposed.
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prokopetz ¡ 2 years ago
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One of the more frequent load-bearing coconuts* in video games is the player character themselves: some quirk or limitation of the game engine requires that the player character must always be on screen, or at least loaded into the current map.
Most of the time, this isn't a problem, because when would you ever not want the player character to be present? There's one specific scenario where it becomes an issue, though, and that's when all of the following are true:
Your game uses in-engine cutscenes
At least some of those cutscenes occur on a different map from wherever the player character is located at the time that they're triggered (and the player character is not present for them)
Some limitation (e.g., of the game engine, of your targeted minimum system requirements, etc.) precludes loading multiple maps at the same time
Together this creates a problem: you need to load a map on which the player character is not present in order to run the cutscene, but the player character is load-bearing.
There are a variety of ways to solve this, but the customary approach is to make a note of the player character's current position, teleport them to the map on which the cutscene occurs, lock out their controls, turn them invisible, run the cutscene, then teleport them back to their former location when it's done. The upshot is that in every cutscene in which the player character ostensibly is not present, they're actually lurking invisibly in the background.
All this leads to what is possibly my favourite load-bearing coconut bug ever: Final Fantasy VII's disc 2 Midgar skip.
Basically, after you defeat one particular disc 2 boss, there's a multi-part cutscene where the action cuts to a conference room overlooking the battle; one of the NPCs present then calls another NPC on their cell phone, and the viewpoint jumps to that NPC's location (a mad science lab). The conference room map is used only in cutcenes, but the latter map, the mad science lab, is one the player can visit later.
Now here's the trick: for unknown reasons, that mid-cutscene jump to a different map re-enables the player character's controls. You're still invisible, and none of the NPCs present can be interacted with (i.e., because they're totally scripted); however, since the map on which the back half of the cutscene takes place is one you can visit later in the game, a bunch of non-cutscene assets get loaded along with it, presumably because it never occurred to the developers to disable them – critically including a boss fight trigger zone. This trigger is unconditional, since the only time this map can be visited legitimately, the fight is meant to occur.
This means that if you know what you're doing, it's completely possible to walk the invisible player character into that boss fight trigger during the cutscene. In spite of its other limitations, the game engine handles this without complaint, and play continues exactly as though you'd reached that boss fight legitimately, thereby skipping half the disc. From the player's perspective, it appears as though holding the joystick in a specific direction causes the cutscene to be interrupted mid-sentence by an inexplicable, out-of-context boss fight.
All because Cloud Strife is a coconut.
* To anticipate the inevitable well-actually, yes, I'm aware that the Team Fortress 2 coconut is a myth; somebody took a real phenomenon and falsely attributed it to a popular game for clicks, and now we're stuck with the term. If you don't like it, complain to whoever is in charge of how language works!
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ff-killjam ¡ 3 months ago
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How The Tables Turned [Ford x reader oneshot]
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Summary: This time, its Ford making you stop what you're going to make sure you get sleep.
Rating: SFW and very fluffy
Warnings: Aside from a slightly suggestive part, none!
AO3 version
A/N: Actually based on a period of time where I tried to learn how to use unity (before the whole drama of it happened). I refused to do ANYTHING but to work on my little project no matter how much I was starving for a few weeks straight. lol.
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It’s basically routine at this point for you to drag Ford out of his lab to head for bed. Even if you remind him of the benefits on sleeping and how the lack of it will impact his work, you still needed to get him into bed, sometimes having some food ready for him to make sure he didn’t sleep on an empty stomach.
That’s how its USUALLY IS.
Lately, you’ve started your own personal project involving learning a game engine to play around with. It was mostly just a random idea one day, wanting to try your hand at making your own little “video game”. Nothing too fancy, just something fun to put together and to learn some new skills along the way. There was A LOT you needed to look into and learn to make this happen, however.
From learning a coding language, the game engine itself, a mix between finding free to use assets and even making your own when nothing suited your taste- you had a lot on your plate. It wasn’t all that bad really, considering how this whole thing turned into a full blown hyper fixation fairly soon after starting it. It was easy to let the hours fly by as you were split between watching tutorial videos, drawing and fixing any errors/bugs in any of the codes you wrote down. You were aware of when you needed to sleep, eat and do other things for your health, but something about working on this project made you refuse to move from your chair. And you weren’t the only one to noticed this.
After a decent amount of time being with you, Ford has grown used to the routine of you coming to his lab to check up on him. It got to the point where he purposely stayed late in the lab to get you to come in and “pester” him to take care of himself better. The feeling of knowing you cared and loved him so much to go out of your way to make sure he knew that was something he relished in. Of course, he did felt a little “silly” and “immature” doing this instead of straight up telling you, but there was no harm being done anyways, so it was fine.
So when you stopped checking on him after a few nights, he couldn’t help but to worry a bit. At first, he figured you were just a bit busy, possibly even out for the night, so he didn’t think too much of it. However, when walking into your computer room and seeing you up staring at your screen with an open notebook with various random things written on it, he couldn’t help to smile a bit as you reminded him of his university days. You were just working on something, nothing too bad.
But as time passed by, he soon realizes he only ever sees you in your computer room. You barely went out for anything, even for food. Ford didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but he was worried. Things escalated for him when he barely sees you in bed anymore.
It’s not like he didn’t talk to you as you were deep in your work. He would sometimes check in on you when things felt a little too quite after he started to noticed your absent in his lab. Ford was happy you were able to pursue something new and to take the time and effort to do it. He was aware of the little game you wanted to make for the sake of saying “I made this!”. When he had the free time, he’ll listen to you talk about the things you learned, some of the issues you faced and how you fixed them, etc etc. But he can only take so much before he had to really step in for your own sake.
The sky was dark out, and it was around 1am. You weren’t in bed yet. Again. Ford was really concerned for you now. Walking through the dim hallway, he opens up the door of your computer room. He can see you fully concentrated on your screen, looking over some codes you put together, as if you were trying to find any errors in the lines of text that was presented in front of you. It was obvious how dry your eyes were, how your body longed for rest, but the urge to keep going and to fix this one mistake kept you from wanting to sleep despite how much you felt the need to do so.
It was almost funny to him. A taste of his own medicine some would say. It reminds him of the many nights on how he too would refuse to stop for the night, always needing to do one more thing before he could let himself rest. How you would do your best to persuade him to let himself walk away from his work, to take care of himself to avoid any health complications, and to spend time with you in the comfort of your bed.
It made him feel guilty as well. The things you did for him and how much you loved him to always go out of your way to show it. Ford knew he was taking full advantage of that, and he wanted to repay it back.
You jumped a little in your seat when you felt his familiar six finger hand land on your shoulder, being so focused on the lines of text on your screen that you forgot where you were for a good bit. You look over at Ford as he stood beside your seat, giving him a weak smile.
“Oh hey! Do you need anything?” You asked before quickly looking back at the screen again.
“Love, when was the last time you ate?” Ford asked you in a gentle voice.
“Uh… I had breakfast?” You answered, only remembering you had some toast with a sunny side egg on top when you last ate. It didn’t seem like it mattered too much though.
“Its almost one am” Ford replied, a little stern this time. You quickly check the clock on your taskbar, feeling surprised from how much time had passed.
“Oh… oops” you spoke mostly to yourself, feeling a little silly for not checking the time more often. “I’ll probably head to bed soon”
“Not soon,” Ford points out, “you’re going to bed now.” His words made you look at him again, confusion viable on your face.
“Just let me do this one fix-” Ford says your name, stern voice again, causing you to stop your sentence.
“You are fully aware of the effects of not taking care of yourself” Ford spoke to you with a smirk on his face. You knew that he was referencing the many of times where you brought out the facts of how the lack of sleep and self care can affect your health and day to day life. It was the best way to convince him to come to bed and let you cuddle with him until you were both asleep. “You’re no different form me, sweetheart. Got to practice what they preach, as they say”
“Uh…. I’m built different?” You gave a half shrug and a low chuckle at your own joke. Obviously, this did nothing to change his mind. You knew he was right, and had nothing to say to argue back. Ford knew this too. “Fine… let me quickly save and shut off my computer…”
Ford watches you quickly save any progress before shutting off your computer, the light of the screen turning off and making the room dark as it was the only thing on. As you start to stand, your body fully conveyed how tired you really were. You were about to walk to the hallway door before Ford lets out a ‘let me’, and you were now being picked up bridle style in his arms. You let out a small gasp, often forgetting how much muscle the older man has as he often hides it away in his iconic turtleneck. The comfort of him holding you made the realization at your own exhaustion hit hard. You can feel yourself somewhat go limp as Ford carried you to your shared room.
Ford felt you quickly relax in his arms, feeling prideful as he carried you to your bed. Sitting you on the side and pulling the blanket back. He lays you on your pillow before fallowing suit into his usual spot on the bed beside you. Your eyes were shut as you let yourself sink into the soft mattress, the weight of the blanket being pulled over you giving a sense of security, along with how his arms wrapped around you to pull you close to his chest. You let out a sigh of relief as you feel him nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, getting a few shivers down your spine.
“Sorry…” You mumbled to him, feeling guilty now for making him go out of his way to get you to bed. You feel him chuckle into your skin, the smile forming on his face being easily felt on your skin.
“Nothing to be sorry about sweetheart,” his replied, voice audibly sounding more tired, “I should be the one to apologize, making you go through this almost every night. I see how doing this almost all the time can be a bit frustrating for you.”
“Not if its you,” You were quickly to reply, “I’m always happy to make sure you’re okay”. Ford felt his heart flutter at your words. You always did surprised him with how much you loved him despite how many times you pointed it out.
“The feeling is mutual,” Ford placed a kiss on your skin as he caressed one of his thumbs that rested on you, “lets get to sleep now, I’ll be sure to do something for you in the morning” Ford gave another kiss on your skin, and you can’t help but to feel excited for what he had planned.
Silence followed as you two let yourselves slowly fall asleep in each others comfort. Feeling his steady heartbeat on your back lulled you to your sleep.
Ford smiled when he realized you fell asleep before he did. It was no surprise, you needed it really bad. Without fail every night when he has you in his arms like this, he feels like the luckiest man in the multiverse. He didn’t deserve you, but it was almost as if this is the repayment he deserved after many years of suffering, a way of life saying sorry to him.
And he wouldn’t ask for anything else.
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