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Map of the Soul, Chapter Six

For the @btswritingcafe‘s Map of the Soul: 7 Workshop

Pairings: OT7 x reader (kinda); Taehyung x reader; Seokjin x reader

Series Summary: If you give a piece of yourself to everyone you love, at some point, there will be nothing left for yourself. While feeling lost and alone in your adult life, a strange box falls onto your head in your own closet, and you take an unexpected walk down memory lane wondering where everything went wrong. Was it the romances that fizzled out, the friends & loved ones you left behind, the “what could’ve been” moments, the brush with Fate that never quite connected? Could the strange map you find have the answers you are looking for? Determined to feel complete once again, you embark on a journey to reclaim the missing pieces of your soul.

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 7K+

Warnings: cursing & vulgar language, anxiety issues, bad puns & cheesy jokes (it is a Jin chapter after all), mutual oral sex (69), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex (please be safe, darlings), creampie

Chapter Six: The Dish Who Ran Away With the Spoon

March 23rd, 7:07pm

You and Taehyung pulled up to your cousin Seokjin’s house and you hesitated after you parked. He caught on to your mood quickly and placed his hand on your thigh reassuringly. He knew where your head was at, and he waited patiently for you to speak.

“Tae, tell me I can do this,” you begged softly. “Tell me I can get through one night with her and not ruin my cousin’s graduation party.”

“It’s been three years, babe,” Taehyung replied. “Maybe things will be better now? Either way, I’ll be right here with you.”

Your head fell back against the headrest and you took a deep breath, trying to release any nagging bitterness toward your cousin’s wife. When Seokjin started dating Aeri four years ago, you were adamant that he rethink his life choices. You knew from experience just what kind of girl Aeri was and you told him on multiple occasions that she was just using him because his family had money. Aeri was well-known among your graduating class as a seeker of wealth, and she’d barreled through several of your friends in pursuit of their trust funds. You tried to reason with Seokjin, but he kept laughing it off as a joke and he insisted that she was nothing like that.

They announced their engagement after a year of dating, and you cornered Aeri at a family gathering and gave her the typical “if you hurt my cousin, I will hunt you down and make sure they never find the body” speech. You may have used some especially colorful language in the middle of your well intended speech, and who would’ve known that the phrase “selfish gold digging bitch” would cause such a violent reaction? Aeri had a breakdown in the middle of the gathering and Seokjin swooped in to save her, as always.

He’d been furious at you, accusing you of jealousy and threatening to uninvite you to his wedding. Blinded by fury, you assured him that you no longer wanted anything to do with him or his “conniving bitch wife to be.” Needless to say, in that one evening, you’d driven an unintentional stake between you and your closest cousin. The damage appeared irreparable.

The wedding came and went without you in attendance, despite your mother’s incessant pleas to make amends with Seokjin. There were a handful of family gatherings where you were all in attendance, but things always soured whenever you and Aeri neared one another. Tonight was no exception, but you really wanted the night to continue without incident.

I just need to avoid her, and everything will be ok.

“Ok,” you breathed out in a huff. “Let’s do this. If you see any indication of an impending kerfuffle, Tae-bear, you need to get me the hell out immediately. I will not ruin this for Sana.”

“I’m on it,” Taehyung responded while taking your keys. “Was Sana the weird little girl who would melt her Barbie dolls with a lighter and then fuse them together?”

“Yeah, that’s her,” you confirmed. “Now, that weird little girl is a certified welder who is going to be doing an internship at NASA this summer. With her skill, she’ll probably end up getting a full time job welding things for the space program.”

“Damn,” Taehyung remarked. “Whoever said trade schools were a waste of time were seriously mistaken. Good for her!”

You both made your way to the backyard, where a huge buffet table laden with food awaited the guests. The backyard was decorated in fairy lights and small tasteful centerpieces. Upon further inspection, Taehyung noticed that the centerpieces were actually small welded art pieces.

“These are so cool!” Taehyung proclaimed. “I want one!”

“You should see the ones I have at home,” came a surly voice from the end of the table. “You’d love them.”

“Sana!” you exclaimed. “Congratulations!”

You met her halfway around the table and pulled her into a quick side hug. Sana wasn’t really one for a lot of affection, so even the little hug you gave her flustered her a bit.

“I’m so proud of you,” you beamed. “I heard about your internship, it’s so exciting.”

“Thanks,” she murmured. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Sana gave Taehyung the once over and rolled her eyes playfully.

“You’re still hanging out with this jerk?” she teased. “I figured you would’ve ditched his pathetic ass a long time ago.”

Taehyung gave his best rendition of mock offense and stepped back slightly to “recover” from her insults. After catching a sliver of a smile on her face, he stepped forward to offer her a fist bump, which she gladly reciprocated.

“It’s good to see you, Sana,” Taehyung said. “I’m very happy to hear you’re doing well as a welder and not making headlines as a serial killer.”

“You never know,” Sana shrugged nonchalantly. “Could still happen.”

After several minutes of entertaining antics between you, Sana, and Taehyung, you realized you needed to use the restroom. You assured Taehyung that you could, indeed, go to the bathroom on your own, and you left him talking to Sana about her welding exploits.

You quickly made your way inside, careful to avoid the watchful eyes of your mother and your crazy aunts. You found the downstairs half bath easily enough, and you were so thankful that you’d avoided any drama on the way inside. Hopefully, your escape would be just as uneventful.

You were almost to the end of the hall when you were suddenly pulled inside a darkened room. You wanted to yelp, but the person who pulled you into the room held a hand over your mouth. You glanced at the immaculate manicured fingernails and gaudy wedding ring, and you knew exactly who’d accosted you.

“Please don’t yell at me just yet,” Aeri breathed out quietly. “I just need to talk to you, and I really need you to listen to what I have to say.”

You resisted the urge to snap at your loathsome cousin-by-marriage, but when you looked at her in the soft light coming in from the windows, your heart softened considerably. Your confusion increased as she flicked the switch on a small lamp in the room.

Aeri was a mess. Her makeup was a little smeared around the edges of her red rimmed eyes, her hair was slightly disheveled, and she looked genuinely distraught. She lowered her trembling hand and wrapped her arms around herself, as though she was trying to hold herself together.

What the hell happened to her?

“I know you hate me, ok?” Aeri began gruffly. “It’s no secret that you think I’m a stupid, spoiled whore who stole your cousin Jin from you. However, it was never my intention to come between the two of you.”

You started to speak, but she held up a hand to stop you. It was obvious she had more to say, so you nodded and held your tongue.

“When Jin and I first got together, I will admit that I didn’t have the best intentions,” she conceded. “However, it only took a few weeks for me to realize that Jin wasn’t like every other guy I dated before. He was so wonderfully different and sweet and caring. He made me feel beautiful and loved and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You remained silent, and nodded your head knowingly. Kim Seokjin always gave off an air of arrogance and confidence, but underneath that facade of self-absorption was a genuine ball of marshmallow fluff that thrived on support and encouragement for the people he loved and cared about. He truly was a selfless person, and you always loved that about him.

“You knew what I was like before Jin,” she continued. “I was a monster, for lack of a better word. I was selfish and manipulative, and you had every right to assume that I was going to get my claws into Jin, just like I had with everyone else I dated. When I realized how amazing Jin was, I actually tried to break it off with him because I was worried that I would hurt him and I thought I didn’t deserve to be with someone like him.”

You recoiled slightly. You were almost certain you’d misheard her, but the look on her face expressed the truth.

Aeri tried to leave Jin?

“It didn’t matter how hard I tried to leave him though,” she pouted. “He refused to accept my breakup speech as anything but nonsense. I kept trying to break up with him and he kept telling me no. It was actually a little frustrating.”

You stifled a giggle at your cousin’s ridiculous antics. Seokjin had a flair for the dramatic, so you empathized with Aeri’s frustration.

“After a while, I stopped trying to break up with him,” Aeri explained. “And Jin, he just...he just made everything in my life so wonderful and simple. It felt like my heart was finally awake, and I was over the moon for him.”

You smiled softly at her confession.

Leave it to Jin to transform a vicious monster into a cuddly ball of fluff.

“When you confronted me at the engagement party, I didn’t handle things very well and I apologize for that,” she admitted. “I was afraid of losing the only man I ever loved, and the two of you were so close that I was sure you’d convince him to leave me. I panicked and I lashed out at you because I didn’t know what else to do.”

She stepped forward and took your hand into her own. You were shocked at her sudden tenderness, but you allowed her to continue her unexpected confession.

“Jin is the one who convinced me that I was deserving of love, and he taught me how to love myself,” she explained further. “What I didn’t realize at the time was that I was monopolizing him from the rest of the family, particularly you. I caused the rift between you two and I never made any attempts to remedy that. Losing Jin would devastate me, so I would panic whenever you were near him. I’m genuinely sorry for that.”

She took a deep cleansing breath and reached for something on the side table in the room. When she lifted it, you saw it was a very recognizable fork.

“I found this the day of the engagement party,” Aeri explained. “I didn’t know what it was at the time, but after that argument you had with Jin, I found out what it was. He told me about this fork that belonged to your grandparents. This fork was yours, and he had the spoon, the only pieces left from the original set.”

“That’s right,” you confirmed. “Jin and I are the foodies in the family. We were always cooking together, so those utensils were entrusted to us as family heirlooms.”

Aeri simply nodded and examined the fork more closely.

“I heard you guys arguing that night,” Aeri admitted. “I was just inside the door. I know you said some pretty despicable things to each other.”

“I called him a fucking idiot,” you cringed. “I said that you were going to ruin his life and that I wasn’t going to stick around to watch that happen.”

“I remember,” Aeri said. “I also remember that Jin said that if you really felt that way, then he would no longer be your cousin. Then, you threw this fork at his head and told him to “go fork himself.”

“I don’t know what hurt him more,” you smirked. “The fork or my terrible pun.”

“You know Jin,” Aeri smiled weakly. “He loves your puns. They’re just as bad as his dad jokes.”

You both shared a small giggle. It was enough to lighten the mood somewhat.

“Since that day, I’ve had this fork in my possession,” Aeri informed you. “Jin can’t seem to find the spoon though. When he found the fork in my jewelry box this morning, he was pretty upset, to say the least. He knew you were coming to Sana’s graduation and he’s been trying to find a way to talk to you these last few years. When he found out I had the exact thing he needed to get that conversation started, he yelled at me for the first time in our entire relationship.”

Your jaw dropped. Kim Seokjin never raised his voice at anyone in anger. Yeah, he was loud and rowdy most of the time, but it was never sincere or aggressive. If he really yelled at Aeri, then something must’ve snapped his composure.

“He accused me of keeping you guys apart all these years,” Aeri sobbed. “He said that if I was hiding this fork from him all this time, then that must mean that what you said about me was true. He really thinks I’m trying to sabotage his relationship with you, and that just isn’t true.”

The tears streaming down her face made your heart ache tightly with empathy. Aeri genuinely seemed to love your cousin and now this fork was calling that into question.

“Aeri,” you asked softly. “Why did you keep the fork? Why didn’t you give it to Jin sooner?”

“I was afraid,” she cried out. “Afraid of losing him to you and your assumptions about me. He loves you and trusts you more than anyone else in the world, you know. All these years, he’s questioned that night in his head. Whenever your name is brought up in conversation, it hurts him because he misses you so much. I saw it in his eyes every time, it’s like there’s a piece of him that’s gone. I didn’t know how to handle all of that, so I was a coward and I hid the fork. Now, he thinks I’m also hiding the spoon.”

Your brain pulled on yet another string of Fate and you thought back to the mysterious spoon in your purse.

The fucking spoon! I spent so much time with the fork, I never thought about the matching spoon.

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you,” she explained. “I need your help to fix this. I know that you’re the only one he’ll listen to, and I will do anything to make this right. Will you please help me? You’re the only one who can.”

You took another look at Aeri and your mind cleared. This was not the same girl you used to see stomping on men’s hearts after sucking them dry financially. The love in her eyes was pure, and the affection she had for your cousin was genuine. There was real remorse and suffering seeping out of her pores. You felt an immediate sense of guilt for all your prior accusations against her, and you decided to remedy her unfortunate situation.

“Where is he?” you implored. “I’ll talk to him.”

Aeri took a moment to absorb your words and then rushed forward to embrace you tightly. The sudden show of affection was unnerving, but you accepted it with grace. If you were going to settle this whole thing with Jin, you should at least start treating his wife cordially.

“He’s in the kitchen,” she informed you. “I’ll go in there and chase everyone else out so you can talk to him alone. Just give me a few minutes, ok?”

“Ok,” you agreed. “I just need to get something from my bag.”

You split up in the hallway and you quickly retrieved the spoon from your purse in the car. Once you made your way to the kitchen, Aeri was waiting at the entrance for you. You could hear Jin asking for help from within.

“Thank you again,” she whispered. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

She squeezed your arm gently and then retreated down the hallway as you stepped into the brightly lit kitchen, taking a moment to appreciate the impressive wingspan of your cousin Jin’s shoulders in front of the counter.

“I hear you need some help, Jin-Jin?” you announced with a smile. “Maybe I can be of assistance?”

Jin’s shoulders ceased their motion and he set down the knife he was using to chop vegetables. He was cleaning his hands on his frilly apron when he turned around to face you. His face was unreadable, but you knew he was nervous about seeing you. The twitch in his right eye and the tension in his lips told you everything you needed to know.

“Hey,” he murmured with uncertainty. “I didn’t know you were here already.”

“Yeah,” you said nonchalantly. “So, do you need help getting that vegetable tray ready? You know I’m good with a knife.”

Jin’s lips settled into a polite smile and he reached over to the hooks on the wall to grab another frilly apron. He tossed it at you and you put it on while he pulled out another cutting board and knife for you to use. He settled the vegetables and tray between the two of you on the counter, and you started slicing away at a cucumber while he continued prepping the carrots. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes, but you took note of the subtle glances he tossed in your direction. After he exhaled with a sigh, you took mercy on your poor cousin and decided to break the ice the only way you knew how.

“Hey, Jin,” you smirked. “I know this cucumber is cool, but should I chop it like it’s hot?”

You swiveled your hips slightly as you continued to slice the cucumber, and Jin’s eyes glowed with amusement. He was trying not to show how pleased he was with your silly pun, but you could tell he was gearing up for a joke of his own.

“Do whatever you want,” he shrugged. “I don’t carrot all.”

He lifted a carrot stick and chomped on it to punctuate the sentence. You both tightened your lips to contain your laughter, but ultimately you both exploded with giggles a few seconds later. You and Jin put down your knives to lift your aprons up to dab at the tears collecting at the corners of your eyes. The two of you had a ridiculous sense of humor, but man, there was nothing you enjoyed more than hanging out with him and telling stupid jokes that only you and he would laugh at.

It was a relief to feel the tension in the kitchen dissipating so naturally. You missed having your favorite goofball around, and as you finished slicing the cucumber slices, you agonized over the time that you’d already lost. You arranged the sliced cucumber on the tray and grabbed the nearest crown of broccoli.

“Oh, good,” Jin commented. “I haven’t chopped the little trees yet. I’m glad you’re going to do them. You always know how to cut them the way I like them.”

You smiled brightly at his praise, and made quick work of the “little trees” Jin loved so much. Once the “forest” was arranged on the tray, you grabbed the multicolored cherry tomatoes and poured them into the corner slot. Another sigh from Jin captured your attention and you glanced over to catch his gaze as he leaned forward to arrange the carrot sticks on the platter.

“I’ve really missed this, you know?” Jin chirped. “Us, in the kitchen, making food and stupid jokes. I almost forgot how much fun this was.”

“Well, it’s been a while since we last did this,” you reminded him gently. “Actually, the last time I can remember was at your engagement party.”

You paused to gauge his reaction, and you had to give the man some credit. He was getting much better at concealing his emotions, but you were the one person who knew that the tips of his ears were about to flush pink from anxiety. Just as the blood rushed to the sides of his head, he released the breath he was holding. You almost smirked at his reaction, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“Yeah, about that,” Jin gritted out while rubbing the back of his neck. “I think we need to talk about what happened that night.”

“I know,” you nodded. “Jin, I just-”

“You were right,” he cut you off. “About everything. Aeri really is selfish and a liar and manipulative, and I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”

“No, that’s not-” you started to say.

“She’s been keeping secrets from me,” he interrupted once again. “Hiding things from me, and all I ever did was love her and trust her and give her whatever she needed. I thought I could help her become a better person, you know? Really learn how to love herself so she could see the wonderful person I saw inside of her. I thought she’d changed, but, I guess it just wasn’t possible.”

“She isn’t hiding anyth-” you tried again.

“So, yeah,” Jin huffed out sadly. “That’s it. That’s my life with the woman of my dreams, or I guess it’s more of a nightmare now. I don’t know how I can stay married to someone who lies to me and-”

“Will you shut up for one second?!” you cried out.

Jin paused his monologue and tilted his head to look at your fuming form. The gloss over his eyes made you sad, and more than anything, you wanted to relieve the melancholy oozing from his full lips. You lifted your hand to reveal the fork Aeri had given you earlier. His eyes widened, but his emotional grid just shifted from woe to fury.

“You see?” he pointed out. “That’s your fork! I couldn’t find it after you threw it at my head that night. I’ve been trying to figure out how I was going to talk to you after our fight and I knew that fork would be the perfect conversation starter. Aeri was hiding it from me and I found it. She probably has my spoon hidden somewhere in the house, and I promise you, I’m going to find-”

You pulled the spoon out of your pocket and his heated rant came to an abrupt stop, and you saw confusion creep across his temples and down to his befuddled expression. You could tell he was trying to work out the equation you’d laid before him, but he was having trouble solving it. You put him out of his misery and placed both utensils on the counter and then wrapped your arms around him.

Jin returned the embrace without a second thought and you both settled into a comfortable and soothing silence, only interrupted briefly by the occasional heaving sigh from one or the other. You patted his back and stepped away to hold up both the fork and the spoon in front of his face.

“Aeri didn’t have your spoon,” you affirmed. “I did. Before you even ask, I don’t know why I had it. It just appeared in my things and I found it completely by accident. She did have my fork, but she had her reasons for not telling you about it.”

“How do you know that?” Jin pouted slightly. “What? Are you and Aeri friends now or something?”

“Or something just about covers it,” you nodded. “She just pulled me into a dark room without warning and spilled the tea about all of this, and you know what I realized as she was crying her eyes out over this?”

“What?” Jin muttered grumpily.

“That girl honestly loves you,” you stated simply. “Like hand over my heart, grab a bouquet of flowers, and gag me with that stupid spoon of yours LOVES you. I was so blinded by my hatred of her back then, I never gave her a chance to be anything but the conniving witch I knew her to be. But all of that was before she met you, my handsome charming cousin.”

Jin’s expression softened considerably, and he leaned back against the counter, dropping his gaze to the floor. You took that as a sign to continue.

“I underestimated you, Jin-Jin,” you admitted. “I should have trusted your choices and put more faith in your judgment. Before Aeri, I never questioned anything you did. It was unfair of me to judge her so harshly, especially since you were so sure of her fidelity and loyalty.”

Jin lifted his eyes to meet your own, and he offered you a small smile. He reached over to take the spoon into his hand and his smile widened.

“Do you know why people never bring spoons to a party?” he asked. “It’s because they cause quite a stir.”

You groaned loudly and threw your head back to stifle the impending chortle from escaping. You should’ve been ready for one of Jin’s lame dad jokes, but they always caught you off guard.

“Come on,” Jin demanded. “Laugh! You know you want to.”

He poked your side with the spoon and you released the laughter you’d held hostage after he delivered his punchline. It took a few seconds to stop his incessant spoon attack, but he eventually wrapped his arm around your shoulder and kissed the top of your head affectionately.

“Oh, 고구마/goguma (sweet potato),” he sighed. “What am I supposed to do with you? How many times must I tell you that I am always right and I know what I’m doing? How could you even doubt me for a second? You really should have more faith in me.”

“You’re one to talk, 감자/gamja (potato),” you teased. “I wasn’t the only one who lost faith here. You never called me after that night, and you were always the first one to apologize and set things right whenever we got stupid.”

“Well, I would have” he argued. “But I couldn’t find your stupid fork. I couldn’t make anything right without giving that back to you, even after you threw it at my head and told me to “go fork myself.” That was a good one, by the way.”

“Thank you,” you giggled, while picking up your fork. “It just came to me in the moment.”

You heard a commotion behind you and you both turned around to see Aeri lingering in the doorway. She was shifting nervously against the door frame and biting on her lip. She looked like she wanted to speak, but didn’t know how to begin. You looked up at Jin who nodded at your silent request. You hugged his side and then walked over to Aeri.

Before she could say a word, you wrapped your arms around her and gave her a big hug. She was flabbergasted and immediately started sobbing against your shoulder. You tried to pull away to calm her down, but she melted against you, dripping tears and snot all over your shoulder. It was hard not to be grossed out by it, but you endured the discomfort for the sake of the moment. You were trying to mend the relationship between all three of you, and pushing her away for covering you in disgusting wetness would just have to be overlooked at the moment.

“Aeri,” you murmured against her head. “I have something to say to both you and Jin. Why don’t you go over to the counter so we can talk?”

She looked over to Jin and she hesitated, but he opened his arms to her and beckoned her forth.

“Come here, 여보/yeobo (honey),” he cooed. “It’s ok.”

She flew into Jin’s arms and buried her wet face into his broad chest. It was adorable how small she was against your cousin’s side, but somehow they fit together perfectly. It made your heart soar to see the love pouring out of Jin’s face and reciprocated in Aeri’s.

How did I never see this side of them?

“Well, I feel like I owe both of you an apology,” you said. “I was unfair to both of you, and I regret not giving either of you my blessing. I’m a horrible cousin, and I entirely take the blame for this family drama. I started it, and now, I’m finishing it.”

You stepped forward and took one hand from each into your own. They smiled at you and Jin’s eyes were sparkling with happiness.

“I’m sorry for everything,” you stated. “I hope that we can move forward from today and be cousins, the way we should have been from the moment Jin decided to marry you. From here on out, I want us to be friends.”

“Best friends,” Jin agreed. “I won’t even bother to say something silly like soulmate. I’m sure Taehyung would kill us if we even dared. Speaking of which, how is he?”

“He’s-” you started to say.

“TTALGI!” came a loud screech from outside.

“Loud,” you groaned. “And annoying. Did I mention the annoying part?”

You all laughed at that, and you noticed that the two of them were getting restless against each other.

That’s probably my cue to leave.

“I’ll give you two a moment alone,” you suggested. “I need to go wrangle my ridiculous soulmate before he causes any trouble.”

“Wrangle?” Jin mused. “Or did you mean to say strangle?”

“Either,” you quipped. “Both of them will get the job done.”

You stalked your way outside, leaving the two lovebirds to make up in the kitchen and wandered around the side of the house to find Taehyung slumped against the brick exterior, seemingly distraught.

“Tae?” you worried. “What happened? Is everything ok?”

Taehyung’s eyes were glassy and his serene expression was reminiscent of a drug addict riddled with chemical euphoria.

Fucking Sana! Did she get him high again?!

Your cousin dabbled in edibles, and she was crazy good at making them. She knew everything there was to know about the different strains and their medicinal and recreational applications. If she wasn’t so damned good at welding, she probably would’ve opened her own dispensary.

“Tae,” you reasoned cautiously “Please tell me you didn’t eat a gummy or a Rice Krispie treat again. I don’t want to have to explain your condition to your mother while you’re trippin’ balls.”

Whatever high Taehyung was riding, it seemed to be smooth, and as he focused in on your face, the haze seemed to clear and his pupils dilated further, which only fueled your drug theory.

“My beautiful, beautiful soulmate,” Taehyung gushed. “You have no idea how happy I am right now and I have you to thank.”

“Me or Sana?” you snapped. “I swear to goddess, Kim Elizabeth Taehyung, if you don’t start explaining yourself right fucking now, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

He took a deep breath and stepped forward to cup your cheeks with his gorgeous hands. There was a sparkle in his eyes you’d never seen before and you started to rethink the drug theory. Taehyung’s thumbs softly brushed across your cheeks, soothing your fears away with each stroke.

Before you could ask any questions, Taehyung dipped his lips and pulled your face to meet his own in the softest kiss he’d ever given you. He held you in place while he continued to caress your lips in a sensual waltz that only he could hear. The affection he lavished upon you left you trembling with anticipation, and the heat between your thighs increased with each languid suckle.

When he finally ceased his assault on your lips, he leaned his forehead against your own and released a satisfied hum. He then pulled away to show you his phone. There was a voicemail message on it and he played it on speakerphone for you.

“Hey, Taehyung, it’s Yoongi. I don’t know if you were actually serious about that marketing job thing, but it turns out I will have a full time position opening up soon. If you’re really interested, give me a call. I know your work pretty well already, and I think your style could bring something unique to the team. I won’t be back in town for another couple of weeks, but my cousin Namjoon is available to go over the details with you. Call me back when you get a chance. Later.”

Your jaw couldn’t drop any further and your eyes were reaching maximum width. As the information gradually coalesced into solid news in your brain, the rhetorical questions bubbled to the tip of your frontal lobe.

Yoongi wants to offer Taehyung a job?! What?! And did he say Namjoon...Kim Namjoon?

Taehyung’s grin was so wide, you were afraid it would split his skull in half. He broke out into his celebratory dance and started grinding up against you in the process. You were still reeling from his big news, and your brain felt like it had short circuited.

What the hell was happening right now?

“Tae!” you gasped. “What does this mean?”

“It means,” announced your soulmate. “That I, Kim Elizabeth Taehyung, may soon be working with the one and only Min fucking Yoongi.”

“I don’t understand. How did this happen?” you questioned him. “What about the job you already have?”

“Ttalgi,” he grinned. “If Min fucking Yoongi is seriously offering me a job marketing his music, then fuck that other job. This is my dream job, babe. I will be the Ultimate Director of Marketing, or DOM, if you will.”

You rolled your eyes at his crude innuendo and tried in vain to find something to say to him that might appeal to his sense of rationality, but you came up short. Taehyung was far too engrossed in celebrating this amazing turn of events to notice your growing apprehension.

Why were you suddenly feeling uneasy about this?

“Isn’t this a little sudden, Tae?” you argued. “I mean, we literally just saw Yoongi like a day ago. Do you think his offer is real? How can you be so sure that this is a legitimate offer?”

“If it’s legit, how can I say no?” he shrugged. “This is a huge opportunity for me, not to mention for my career. I can’t second guess anything right now, ttalgi, not if the reward is something I’ve dreamed about doing since I was a kid. You’ve seen my sketch book. How many album covers did I design? How many posters? How many times have I seen marketing campaigns for musicians and said that I could’ve done better?”

“I know, Tae-bear, but you shouldn’t make any hasty decisions. You didn’t already call him back, did you?” you asked. “Please tell me you’re going to think about this first.”

“What’s there to think about?” he responded. “I already called him back and I’m meeting with his cousin and lawyer, Kim Namjoon, in a few days to discuss the job. If I like what I hear, then I’m putting in my two weeks notice and starting a new job with Genius Labs, Inc.”

“When and where are you meeting him?” you scowled. “Are you ditching me during our soulmate spring break, Elizabeth?”

“No, baby, I would never,” he smirked. “Namjoon is going to be in town to meet with the university about a fundraiser. After we get back to your place, I’m supposed to go by the new Genius Labs studio office across town. Apparently, they set up a local office to help coordinate all the philanthropic work the company does with the university. That’s where I will be working if they hire me.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yoongi and Taehyung working together? Kim Namjoon suddenly reappearing in your life again? What kind of twisted reality were you living?

I don’t know if I’m ready to have so much of my past and present mixing together.

“I hate to kill my own buzz, babe,” Taehyung interrupted your thoughts. “But I just heard Jin announce that the food is ready and I’m starving. I am going to need a lot of energy if we’re going to celebrate later, yeah?”

You snapped your head up to look at his devilish smirk and the sinful glint in his eye. Seeing that hunger building in his mind tugged you away from your anxiety monster and pulled you closer to your hormone demon. You reached up and slid your fingers into his hair and then pulled back slightly, just enough to make him hiss. He pushed your back against the brick wall in response, caging you with his strong arms.

“Then let’s finish family dinner,” you purred. “Then we can go home for dessert.”

Taehyung reached down and slapped at the side of your ass, making it jiggle slightly. He bit on his bottom lip and then gazed deeply into your eyes. His dilated pupils were teeming with lust and you knew you were in for a wild ride.

“Careful, ttalgi,” he warned. “Don’t start games you don’t intend to finish.”

He planted a heated kiss on your lips, complete with a teasing swipe of his tongue and a nibble on your bottom lip. Before you could get carried away, Taehyung pulled you away from the wall in the direction of the party. The two of you walked to the backyard hand in hand and enjoyed the rest of the evening with your family.

After dinner was served, Sana managed to escape to go see her girlfriend at some point, and Jin disappeared inside with Aeri. You and Taehyung saw that as an opportunity to dip out gracefully as well. You stealthily discarded your plates and sneaked out the back gate.

You decided to go back to your house, since your parents would be at the graduation party for at least a few more hours. You and Taehyung made sure to get fully inside your locked bedroom before going completely feral on each other and tearing clothes off each other like crazed sex maniacs.

You were in the middle of a 69 position when Taehyung thought it would be a good time to talk about the future. With his fingers dipping steadily into your drenched core, he started up a casual conversation.

“Babe,” he mused after suckling on your clit. “If I get this job, I’ll need to find a place to live. Any suggestions?”

You moaned around the tip of his swollen cock and released it with a popping noise. He hissed at the sensation and started twisting his wrist with each slide into your swollen pussy.

“Ah,” you moaned. “I guess...ah...you could always...ah...stay with me until you...ah...found a place.”

You started stroking his quivering length and you dropped your head down to lick at his balls with each stroke. He groaned wantonly and thrust up into your hand to increase the speed.

“That’s a good idea, ttalgi,” he gritted out. “You’re so fucking smart.”

His tongue snaked its way into your folds and started penetrating your tightening hole over and over again. His stiff pink muscle slid up and down your fleshy walls collecting every ounce of arousal it could.

Your second orgasm was approaching and Taehyung wasn’t interested in edging you out this time. He started stimulating your clit along with his tongue fucking and it rapidly ruined any composure you had left. You barreled across the climax finish line and fell forward into Taehyung’s lap, convulsing slightly from the overstimulation.

Taehyung planted one last kiss to your dripping entrance and rolled you around so he could spoon you from behind while also slipping into your soaked pussy in one fluid motion. He started a steady rhythm against your hips and pulled you against his chest so he could play with your stiffened nipples.

“I’d really like that, babe,” he admitted. “You and me finally living together? Think about all the fun we could have. It will be amazing.”

“You’re amazing, Tae,” you purred. “Always fuck me so good.”

“That’s right,” Taehyung agreed while increasing his pace. “I know what you like, when you like it, how you like it, where you like it. I know everything about you, ttalgi. Just like I know that you’re about to cream all over my cock in just a few seconds.”

With one of his hands pulling on your nipple, one stimulating your clit, and Taehyung’s teeth biting down on your collarbone, you felt another orgasm careen over your skin, leaving you a moaning mess. Your moans only increased in pitch when you felt Taehyung releasing hot spurts of cum inside of you just a few moments later.

You laid in each other’s arms, cuddling while his erection softened inside of you. Taehyung pressed another kiss to your temple and sighed happily against your ear.

“If this all works out,” he pondered. “We’ll be seeing a lot more of each other. Are you sure you’re ready for that, ttalgi?”

Taehyung’s voice was laced with concern and you couldn’t blame him. This wouldn't be a silly college roommate situation for the two of you. Both of you were working adults with adult responsibilities and you’d never lived together before. You’d both had roommates before, but they were basically strangers to you. This would be starting a new chapter of your life with someone you’d known since you were a small child. The looming history between you and Taehyung had pervasive possibilities.

Can Taehyung and I live together without any unintended consequences?

Looking at his hand cupping your breast, you smiled and twisted your face to kiss at his fingertips. You turned in his grasp and tilted your head up to pull him into another kiss. The unprecedented worry in his eyes surprised you, and you wanted to allay any concerns he might have.

I shouldn’t worry about something like this. This is Taehyung. Good or bad, we always figure out a way to make things work.

“I’m not worried, Tae-bear,” you told him. “As long as I have you in my life, I know everything will be divine. I’m always going to be here for you, my gorgeous soulmate.”

Taehyung’s face lit up and he hugged you tightly against his chest. You both released a sigh of satisfaction and then settled into the pillow, his face inhaling your hair as he drifted off to sleep. You relaxed in his hold and smiled. Even though the future was filled with unanswered questions and lingering doubts, you were confident that everything would turn out well, especially if you had your Tae-bear to rely on. You snuggled against your soulmate and breathed in his comforting scent as your mind drifted into slumber.

I don’t know what you’re up to, Universe, but you might have some explaining to do.

Author’s Note: Thus ends the chapter with Mr. Worldwide Handsome himself, THE Kim Seokjin. Things are definitely spinning out of control with Tae, Yoongi, and Namjoon making an appearance in the last chapter. I hope you’re all ready to see who she ends up with in the end. Any guesses?

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Chapter Five: There’s Still Sunshine When He’s Gone

NEXT CHAPTER

Chapter Seven: Too Many Keys, Just One Door

MAP OF THE SOUL MASTERLIST

@caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma‘s MASTERLIST

#btswritingcafe #Map of the soul #kim seokjin #kim taehyung #eat jin #dad jokes #bad puns #bts collab #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fluff #BTS au #bts angst #soulmate #ttalgi #bangtan #bts bangtan sonyeondan

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bewareofchris · 5 years

Text

Public Relations 6/??

PG-13 atm | Alec Hardy/Dr. Bill Masters | Broadchurch, Masters of Sex | Strong language, eventual sexual situations

“The fact that Alec Hardy was not currently, had not ever, and did not want to date the American sex research did not seem very important at all to the town of Broadchurch. They did what they had always done with a little bit of juicy gossip: they made a spectacle of it.”

<<prev

It was not paranoia to say that Bill was being watched. The whole of Broadchurch seemed as if it had a hive mind, and every eye in the place was tracking his movements with the same incredible scrutiny as a spy network in a television show. More troubling than the sensation of being watched, was the fact that no matter how intently he was stared at, nobody seemed like they wanted to tell him why.

And then there was Olly Stevens, a boy with a press badge, that invited himself to sit across from Bill at his table-for-one at lunch. He had the look of having just graduated high school and the swagger of an idiot child. “Hello,” the boy said before he stuck his hand across the table, “I’m Olly Stevens.”

Bill glanced sideways, toward the door, the waitress and the hostess who had greeted him when he came in. None of them seemed as if they were very interested in how his lunch had been interrupted by a stranger. When he glanced back, Olly’s hand was still stretched across the table at him. Bill set his silverware down and wiped his mouth with his napkin, “do I know you?” he asked.

“I’m Olly Stevens,” the boy repeated with his hand still lingering in the air.

“Then I don’t know you.” Bill had never had a problem getting people to leave him alone. Where he lived, his face was well known as one of the least likable but most competent professionals in any field he’d undertaken. But here, the best his glower managed was to get Olly’s embarrassing hand to lower back to his side.

The boy was still smiling, “No, I guess you don’t. I work at the Broadchurch Echo.” (Bill was going to write Betty a very strongly worded letter when he got back to his hotel room, explaining all of his feelings about being sent away to a town where his mere presence seemed to excite some sort of frenzy.) “I was just wondering if I could ask you a few questions?”

“No,” Bill said. He picked up his utensils again, because they added a nice punctuation to the end of his denial. And the idiot boy was still sitting there, caught in a moment of confusion, but showing no signs of being deterred in the slightest.

“I was just wondering--forgive me if I’m being forward--but I was just wondering why an American sex researcher was here in Broadchurch?”

“I did say no,” Bill reminded him. “Why would you ask permission to ask questions if you were going to ask them anyway?”

“Are you thinking of relocating your sex research?”

To Broadchurch, the town that was so excited by a visitor it lost its fucking mind? Bill set his utensils down again and smiled at the idiot who couldn’t take a hint. He said, “excuse me,” as he slid out of his seat because he had been raised to appreciate the importance of manners.

“You don’t have to go,” Olly said in a rush, “you see what I really wanted to ask you was how you know DI Hardy.” The words were spoken so fast there was almost no spaces between them. And Olly had only turned in his seat to look at Bill, he hadn’t even had time to stand up to follow. His arm was hooked over the back of his seat as his lax-worried face slowly turned up into a smile. That was a reporter’s instinct, the moment they all seemed to know that against all logic and good intentions, the person they had come to harass was well and truly hooked.

“DI Hardy?” Bill repeated. The very man who was ignoring every bit of medical advice he must have received. The one that was a walking ghost at this moment. The one that accosted him in a public space to tell him to stay well away as if Bill had shown up here just to annoy him. “Why do you think I know him?”

“Oh come on,” Olly said.

The waitress that had been ignoring them was listening so obnoxiously it was amazing her ears hadn’t overtaken her head. Bill was grasping at some realization that was just beyond his understanding. He was on the verge of making everything make sense. All those knowing stares, and the cryptic giggles, and the slightly strange small talk. “I really don’t know what you’re implying.” But it certainly didn’t seem to have anything to do with Alec Hardy’s heart condition. That left him wondering what else there was to--

“Olly,” the hostess said, “leave the man alone or I’ll call your Aunt Ellie and Maggie.”

Aunt Ellie. Bill turned to look at the woman and then back at Olly who still hadn’t managed to be even slightly ashamed of his horrendous behavior. The name was so close to being familiar that it felt like he knew it without knowing why.

Olly managed a half-realized attempt at saying, “sorry,” as he stepped around him. When he left any chance of figuring out how he’d become linked to Alec Hardy went with him. Bill was left standing in place, searching out any sort of logical idea and finding none.

Miller was looking at him. No, that wasn’t the right way to phrase it. Miller wasn’t looking at him, she was glancing at him. She was sneaking peeks at him when she thought he wouldn’t notice. They were the smug, knowing sort of glances that she spared him whenever she thought she knew something about him that he hadn’t said.

No, these quick looks had guilt in them.

And she should be guilty, for shifting her focus away from the murder a boy that she knew to him. As if his imaginary sex life was more important. (And they were close, he could feel it, they were so close.

“Miller,” he said when he couldn’t stand it a moment longer. He dropped the file he’d been reading (again) to stare back at her with none of the attempted slyness she’d been employing. “What is it?”

“Sir?”

He hated that about her, the coyness, as if she hadn’t been caught outright. Now he had to say that he’d seen her, and that implied that he’d been looking back at her and they would have to argue if someone was paranoid or not. Hardy said nothing, just stared at her with skepticism that he hoped conveyed that he was simply too business to get sidetracked again.

“Alright,” she said, “before I tell you, don’t go off getting all,” she dropped the file she was looking over on the seat next to her as she turned to face him more fully, “grouchy. I’m sure that it can all be resolved, and remember that I was not involved at all so if you are going to get grouchy, you should do so at the right person.”

(That person most definitely being Miller herself.)

Miller drew in a breath, pressed her hands against her lap, and then said, “I heard,” so whatever she was saying was hearsay, “my nephew Olly,”

“The reporter?” Hardy asked.

“Are you going to let me speak?” Miller asked. He motioned at her to continue, “he works at the Broadchurch Echo. Well, I heard that he interrupted Bill,” it seemed impossible for Miller to say the man’s name without a tone of disbelief and amusement, “while he was having lunch. I don’t know what was being said, but now there’s a rumor around that Bill is Bill Masters, who is apparently a somewhat famous American sex researcher.”

For Christ’s sake.

Hardy didn’t have the energy to react to the news. He couldn’t even lie and say that he had known, because he didn’t know the man from any other stranger. It had been an accident that they’d met at all, and a disaster that the man had ended up here. And of course he was an American sex researcher. Of course he was, because the town of Broadchurch had decided that Hardy was fucking him, and he couldn’t just have a perfectly normal gay fling with any man, he had to have one with an American sex researcher.

Hardy pulled his glasses off and dropped them on the desk. His fingers were dry and rough, pressing against his eyes like he could make the whole stupid thing come undone.

“I’ll call him as soon as we’re done here, sir. I’ll talk to him. And Maggie Radcliffe--”

Maggie Radcliffe was another reporter, and regardless of her apparent morals and her adherence to some ethic code, she was still a reporter. A reporter with access to an American sex researcher and his lover, a somewhat disgraced detective working on a murder case. Even if Maggie wouldn’t sell the headlines, Olly would because the boy was made of ambition.

Even if Maggie didn’t, there was Karen fucking White to think of. By the time his hand had fallen away from his face, Miller had returned to looking at the file she’d be rereading. As if nothing had been said, and an innocent man’s life wasn’t going to be completely upended by the misconceptions of these little fucking minded people.

“Aren’t you going to ask?” Hardy asked.

Miller looked properly ashamed when she looked at him then, and good for her since she was the one that started it all. “No,” was the sound of the woman that did want to know, but wasn’t going to ask now that the whole thing had gotten out of hand.

He nodded, and thought how nice a drink would be, and then pushed himself out of the chair. “I’m getting a cup of tea.” He didn’t offer or imply that he meant to offer, and Miller was good enough to say nothing at all.

next >>

@marvelmisha, @may-darling, @it-is-ineffable if anyone else wants to be tagged just leave a reply on the post.

#illogical husbands #alec hardy #bill masters #grouchy bastards in love #public relations: the fic

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swyllh · 6 years

Text

junshua: all real values

title: all real values

premise: junhui can control probabilities. he can’t make boys (like jisoo) fall in love with him.

genre: angst, fluff, modern magical au

wordcount: 4183

ship: junhui x joshua

warnings: implied sexual content

cross-posted on: AFF

"you are the kind of boy that boys will fall in love with. they will fall hard, fast, and short of your every expectation."

the coin, suspended in mid-air, glints knowingly. this is where he begins, this is where it falls - everything narrows, shrinks, crowds in on this one moment of judgement. the sound of passers-by and irrelevance fade into an inconclusive, bated breath. junhui squints, feels the pounding of blood and instinct in the back of his head. he pushes the thought forward, needling focus into a single, hard point before his eyes. fate, undecided then, twists and tweaks itself accordingly.

"heads," he whispers. the coin slams back down in his palm, yielding.

"you cheated," a girl younger than him cries, and the bubble of miracle splits open - everywhere, sounds and noises come rushing back in.

a car passes them by in the adjacent road, and a dog is barking fervently. sunlight winks in the periphery of his upward glance, and everything feels right again.

"i didn't," junhui says calmly, pocketing the coin. "i guessed right."

he's not good at math. the answers are straightforward and stubborn, laid out in the hard, honest strokes before him. the chalk crumbles at his glare, but remains firmly etched on the blackboard. junhui sighs, and raises his shaking hand. someone, qiutong or yanpeng, fakes a cough behind him. his math teacher, an old but humorous man, folds his arms and gazes knowingly at junhui's unmoving figure.

he presses the chalk into the board, and starts writing gibberish. but if he believes it's right, then maybe he'll be spared the extra homework.

tell me i'm right, he prays, turning over to look at his teacher. the old man lowers his glasses and squints, getting up from the table. things are looking hopeful, and junhui gulps nervously, willing his gift to somehow transcend the laws of this world to spare him for this one period.

"wen junhui," his teacher says slowly - possibly a tone of wonder? - and then clocks him in the head. "don't sleep in class next time."

he goes on his first date in the summer of 2010. it's hot, and sweltering, and chock full of smoke. the fact that he's wearing hand-me-downs and ratty old sneakers doesn't help, but he'll do what he can with it. the popsicle in his hand is melting with a vengeance, but it's a stinging mint that he regrets buying. whatever. he bites into it, relishing the cold and the strange tingling sensitivity it bestows on his gums.

"wen junhui!" qiutong yells, nervous but brave. "over here, you dummy!"

he turns to where her voice is, and nods his confidence into place. she looks at him appraisingly, and he smiles brighter. qiutong's dressed up much nicer than he is - she's managed to stay sweat-free, a biological victory on her part, and not past the point of overdressing. he thinks he'll be able to get his first kiss by the end of the day. it's not a particularly nice thought, and it leaves a somewhat sour taste in his mouth. but still. he's a teenage boy, and that's what always happens.

she does kiss him, shyly, on the cheek, and he thinks he should have pulled her back for an actual kiss. but he doesn't, and she stays smiling at him while he walks her home.

summer vacation passes with a rapid, heated succession of sweet nothings and cotton-dry kisses. his fling blurs into a hazy, stifling memory, like deliberately coy touches against his neck. qiutong, still wearing her hair long and sleek in a ponytail, prances into another girlish infatuation with the boy next door. junhui continues reading his comics in class.

but over the summer break, some things have visibly changed. yanpeng, a funny guy who had only reached junhui's nose at best, returned with a tall, lanky frame. he's still the same goofball struggling with the guitar, but this time, there are clusters of girls in quiet amazement when he practices.

his hands have gotten bigger too - his middle finger and thumb are no longer separated when he circles a hand around junhui's loose wrist.

"heard you went out on a date with qiutong," yanpeng says, wriggling his eyebrows.

It's meant to be a greasy gesture, but it comes off as rougish and playful. junhui licks his lip, caught by the leftover itch of summer.

"yeah."

"lucky bastard," yanpeng exclaims, leaning back in his chair.

his tanned, uneven neck is all hard edges now, leading down into the barely visible hollows of his collarbones. the rest vanishes behind the clean white folds of his shirt. crisp, junhui thinks, almost cool.

yanpeng leans forward, peering into junhui's face. "did you kiss?"

junhui doesn't trust his voice to speak (it still breaks embarrassingly whenever he's pretending nothing's changing). so instead, he nods, mildly pleased with the effect of this one simple gesture: yanpeng's eyes widen, beautifully bright with awe.

"you lucky bastard," yanpeng says slowly.

junhui smirks, his ribs threatening to burst under a shameful mix of pleasure and want and guilt. at this distance, he can see the light-brown flecks in yanpeng's eyes, as well as the flutter of each lash. his gaze wanders down in a sinful, vulgar blink, resting on the other boy's pale, chapped lips.

it's nothing like qiutong's - she had always been wearing those sticky strawberry glosses that clung to his cheeks possessively. and though they were sweet and feminine, she kept reapplying them. eventually those kisses felt like obligations, and the tacky weight of each smack too heavy to bear alongside the summer heat.

"i wonder what it's like to kiss," yanpeng says, leaning in.

junhui suddenly pulls away, and the motion extinguishes a light in yanpeng's eyes. no one speaks. the silence pushes yanpeng back to face his own worksheets, leaving junhui with a devastatingly attractive view of his straightened spine.

i wonder what it's like to kiss you, junhui had thought.

in a heartbeat, he hears those words echoed through yanpeng.

the party clamours on; junhui holds the red plastic cup close to his chest, laughing at some beer-soaked joke that's being shared. qiutong is in the corner, whispering in the same low dulcet tones she'd croaked into his ear the last summer. in the narrow span between a failed beer pong toss and the lucky outcome of a bet, jun finds himself finishing the last of the alcoholic infusion.

yanpeng is kissing someone else now. the sight of it - junhui's suddenly pressing a palm to his mouth, overcome by the acrid taste of bile rising up his throat.

don't look at me, he thinks, stumbling back into the counter and then, why don't you look at me like that. please. please. pleasepleaseplease.

yanpeng shifts, pulling away from his first kiss with a dazed look. the universe, morbidly amused, makes him stare unseeingly through junhui.

junhui bolts out of the house.

the stars, winking fervently, form an intricate carcass against the hollow sky. junhui wipes at his mouth, heaving uselessly. something bubbles at the base of his throat and reduces him into a laughing wreck.

he pulls out a coin, cool against clammy heat of his fingers. it offers no resolution, and is only ever honest in its glossy, half-hearted reflection. he tosses it, right hand moving in a well-practiced flourish. the coin spins into a white glint, suspended in midair, awaiting judgement.

"heads," he whispers. the coin slams back down in his palm, yielding.

he moves to seoul in a few years. the language is an assortment of words uncertainly shaped in the same sounds, but his intonation is always just a little off. korean tastes strangely reminiscent on his tongue, like home in an alternate dimension.

he begins with simple odd acts here and there, underlining auditions with a ballpoint pen, circling unknown words and mistaken characters. but his determination to succeed is what pushes him forward - literally.

a firm handshake, neatly-pressed shirts and a leatherbound will ticking against his wrist - he wants, he wills.

it's how he meets jeonghan. the shoot is less moving than he'd expected; when they bring out the cameras and leave the recording mics behind, junhui starts to feel a little worried. but he's immediately overwhelmed by someone entering the room, and can't help but turn around.

the man, glowing and eternally understanding, graces him with a smile - one that forgave all of his misconducts and unfortunate kisses. redemption, too easily earned and hardly ever well-deserved, glides towards junhui in a couple of strides. even the taste of his name on junhui's lips is a refreshing gift.

"yoon jeonghan," jeonghan had introduced himself. "you must be junhui."

junhui takes his hand, compelled. "yes."

(something fizzles, pulses, stings just right - jeonghan's eyes light up, mirroring his own.)

in a matter of minutes, he's agreed to move in with jeonghan and his family.

family is a pretty broad way of phrasing it - from chan to mingyu, the boys have absolutely nothing in common. that is, until junhui sets his bag down in his room, and is immediately accosted by eleven new faces. seungkwan's the first to arrive, his bright, glossy face in a face mask and cucumbers in either hand.

"you must be junhui!" seungkwan coos.

jeonghan sighs, and gives them a look. "really, seungkwan? you had to get the whole house up and moving at eleven?"

seungkwan startles, and turns to face ten other faces. "no, that wasn't me! i wouldn't have brought them."

at this, chan awkwardly raises his hand. "i think it was you, jeonghan-hyung."

"yeah," seungcheol confirms, wrapping an arm around jeonghan's waist. he presses his face into jeonghan's shoulder, sighing.

"sorry," jeonghan says, though it's more towards seungcheol than anyone else. "anyway, this is wen junhui."

there are introductions, and the same fizzle runs through the room. junhui knows there's something different in this house, but he just can't place his finger on it. minghao, the only other one speaking mandarin, sits him down, and shoos everyone else out the room. jeonghan retreats, kindly shutting the door behind him; if not for that pointed gesture, he might have felt compelled to follow him, too.

"jeonghan-hyung is very attractive," minghao says, matter-of-factly. "i remember things. you?"

"what?"

minghao shrugs. "everyone in this house has a gift - vernon can heal cuts and bruises, seungkwan is sensitive to the space around him... things like that."

"oh," junhui says weakly. "that makes sense."

minghao's expression softens, if only minutely. "it's alright, we take care of each other here."

junhui, silent for a moment, finally says, "i believe you."

the same current jolts down his arm, and leaps in avid, endless circles around his room. minghao, stunned, stares at him with his mouth agape.

"does jeonghan-hyung know about this?"

jun shrugs. "he knows there was something, i don't think he knows what it exactly is."

"it's not safe," minghao says quickly.

"not if i will it to," jun bites back with equal fervour. "and i will."

minghao stares at him, eyes darting to his packed, singular luggage and the newly-furnished room. there must be something that's won his approval, or at least his pity, and so he nods, jutting his chin out sharply and downwards. he raises a finger and taps his temple.

"i'll hold you to that."

probability is a game; junhui has mastered it. each morning when he wakes, he watches the shadows of leaves dance on the ceiling. from there on, he wonders how his day will go, counting the forks in his path: the shared bathroom will be empty, there will be just enough milk for his cereal in the fridge, the train will be right there when he reaches the platform... he could go on forever, count every variable of free will in the deterministic universe. the coin will always yield; the chances stacked in his favour. the odds of every event falls prey to a binomial distribution - it will, or it won't.

but junhui always wills. he has to.

seungcheol and jeonghan are exchanging delicious, intimate words in the living room after a particularly rousing dinner routine; mingyu's outdone himself this time. junhui sits by the kitchen counter, and scrolls through his phone. minghao's reading a book next to him. he doesn't know exactly what it is, but something makes him look up.

the sight freezes him: jisoo, jaw tight, is burdened with the strangest succession of emotions on his face. junhui follows his gaze and finds that it lands on jeonghan.

junhui knows it. even at this distance, he can taste the sour, acrid taste in the hollows of his cheek.

and then jisoo is looking straight at him, eyes wide. junhui takes it as a cue to leave. he stumbles out of the barstool, and rushes back to his room. in the darkness of the stairs, he wonders if someone, anyone in this house is hiding in the black spots of the hallway, listening to the uneven pounding of his heart. he hates being so transparent, so easily read - jisoo had probably felt something, and found a single name curled up behind junhui's facade.

it hurts, still hurts. he doesn't know if it will ever go away.

(he wants it to, he doesn't want it to)

"junhui?" jisoo's voice is behind him, and an extra pair of feet are padding along the corridor. "junhui."

"yes?" he's glad his voice doesn't crack now.

he turns around to see jisoo, whose face is flushed and marred by worry.

"please don't tell anyone," jisoo whispers.

junhui stops in his tracks. "what?"

"just now," jisoo says. "you saw."

it hits him - he had recognised himself in jisoo just then, which means...

pressing his lips together, junhui walks over to his room and pushes the door open.

"let's talk inside."

jisoo, slightly chastened, enters his room. junhui slips in after him, locking the door behind them. he can't say he's not taken aback - jisoo, one of the older boys, has always been a picture of unmoved tact and poise. now, however, he's worrying his lip and sitting on junhui's bed. junhui settles down beside him, leaving a polite distance between them.

"it's ironic," jisoo says first, "that someone so attuned to other people's emotions is betrayed by their own."

junhui doesn't know what to say to that.

"i like him," jisoo whispers, soft but firm. junhui is envious of that - confidence is often too loud. "i like him so much, junhui."

"how long?" junhui wants to slap himself for the question.

jisoo takes it in stride. "a while. since i met him. i don't know."

junhui knows what he means. the room, too large for this silence, shifts in and out of focus.

"i had a - someone i liked," junhui says. "he almost kissed me."

the admission feels more like a confession of guilt. but saying it aloud emboldens him; he takes a coin out of his pocket and makes an unnecessary gesture to show it off. jisoo leans forward, drawn in by the magic trick (or the sudden stir of regret in junhui's chest).

"heads or tails?" junhui asks.

jisoo shrugs. "tails."

"heads," junhui says, and tosses it.

the coin lands. junhui doesn't need to peek to tell he's right. the point's been made anyway - jisoo's solemn now, catlike eyes glowing in the dimly lit room.

"i pulled him into it," junhui says, "and i pulled us out of it."

the thing about guilt is, the longer you keep it, the more attached you become to it. you think yourself special for it, and let it guide you around; a stockholm prisoner, chasing blindly after the vivid blaze of uneasy heat and stealthy fear. it grows greedily, gaudily, like a precious little secret to be hoarded.

junhui finds himself casually, carelessly glancing at jisoo. the many innocent gazes exchanged morph instantly into a confirmation of their individual crimes. in many ways, junhui feels like an accomplice, picking out the way jisoo is so readily attuned to jeonghan. to the common eye, it would just be a side-effect of their gifts - jeonghan is a steady force of attraction that demands; jisoo is too emotionally available for his own good.

junhui learns to read jisoo - he doesn't cringe, much less frown. the only indicator of hurt and heartbreak is the small, wrinkly smile toying on his lips and a strained silence to mimic calmness. something about discovering this makes him pleased, as though it confirms his own nagging discomfort.

(that, and the fact that it's getting harder for him to keep his eyes off jisoo.)

junhui doesn't mean to, but he overhears a fragment of a conversation. he's almost done getting dressed and leaving his room, when jeonghan's voice, meek and confused, slips into his room.

"do you ever hate what you have?"

there's a pause. "yeah, it's tiring."

it's jisoo.

"it is, but everyone's dealing with it." jeonghan pauses for a moment, and when he speaks again, it's fraught with doubt so unlike him. "shua, do you think seungcheol...?"

"he does."

"how do you know it's real?"

"it is."

he finds jisoo in his room later, sipping on a cup of tea. jisoo answers only on the third knock, eyes rubbed raw. his shoulders fall at the sight of junhui, and the faltering excuses shed themselves almost immediately. jisoo paces back to his bed, and rearranges the pillows around him.

"i heard," jun says, honest, "what you and jeonghan-hyung talked about in the hallway. i'm sorry."

"it's alright."

junhui joins him on the bed. "you okay?"

"never been better," jisoo jokes, holding out a hand.

junhui takes it. "you're really strong, hyung."

"i'm not," jisoo denies, still smiling despite the puffy eyes. "i'm really not."

junhui shakes his head. "i think you are."

jisoo exhales shakily.

"believe me," junhui says, earnest.

when jisoo fixes his gaze on him, junhui suddenly gets an urge to pull out his coin and prove something, anything - he'll spin possibilities out of nothing for jisoo, build an entirely new universe to house jisoo's inexhaustible heart.

"i trust you," jisoo says, squeezing junhui's hand.

junhui wakes up to an uncomfortable chill pooling around his shorts. his neck is hot, sweaty, and longing for a second more of dream-jisoo's caress.

jisoo. dream. kisses.

junhui sits right up, and fumbles to get the incriminating, tainted pair of shorts off him. in the shower, he turns the temperature down to the lowest, and scrubs at his skin till it turns a shameful red.

"jeonghan-hyung's gone," minghao says to him in the morning.

"what?"

minghao looks concerned, but jisoo's hand falls on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. "he'll be fine; seungcheol said to leave him alone."

jisoo doesn't seem to think so - the twitch of his eye, a grim look poised over his face and the stiff, strained hand on minghao's shoulder... junhui wets his lip and swallows, mind wandering to trace the contours of jisoo's hand. he knows it's a good, steady weight, and jisoo's got long fingers as a guitar player.

"junhui?" minghao asks. "you okay?"

junhui doesn't trust himself to speak. but jisoo is watching, and the thought of jisoo catching on sends a confusing thrill down his spine.

"check his fanbase's twitter," junhui offers. "i'll talk to the photographers we know."

he grabs his leather jacket, and hops off the barstool at the kitchen counter. as he's about to leave the penthouse, jisoo's hand circles around his wrist. junhui panics, stilling completely. but jisoo's too absorbed in his worry for jeonghan, and misses this.

"thank you, junhui," jisoo says, sincere - knowing the depth of jisoo's feelings for jeonghan makes junhui want to cry, or throw up, he doesn't know which.

so he says, "trust me.", if only to hear the three words again.

"i trust you," dream-jisoo had whispered into the crook of his neck.

real-jisoo had just smiled and said, "ten years isn't long when it's with yoon jeonghan."

wonwoo finds his lost keys one day, and knocks politely on his door. when junhui opens it, wonwoo's stonily standing there, keys in his outstretched hand.

"i think you lost these," wonwoo says, features softening. "they were in the shoerack."

"thank you, wonwoo," junhui says, and then adds teasingly, "you're such a keeper."

wonwoo flushes, but smiles anyway. "i'm good at this anyway."

sunlight filters in through the windows and hits the rim of wonwoo's circular glasses just right. he's goodlooking, there's no denying that. junhui plays with his keys, drawing for time, trying to picture wonwoo in place of jisoo in one of his less ridiculous dreams.

(it still involves a great deal of kissing though.)

"um, junhui?"

"oh," junhui says. "oh, sorry, i just zoned out."

wonwoo laughs, a warm chuckle. "yeah, minghao says you've been doing that a lot."

"thanks, though," junhui grins back, embarrassed.

there's a creak, and both junhui and wonwoo turn to see jisoo hastily trying to close his door. jisoo jumps, as though caught redhanded for some reason.

"hey," jisoo says, biting his lip. "sorry for interrupting. i didn't mean to eavesdrop-"

"oh, no," wonwoo says. "i'm going back to my room anyway. bye, junhui, don't lose anymore things."

junhui rolls his eyes, and playfully replies, "you'll always find it for me."

wonwoo shuffles off to his room, shaking his head. junhui's tacky, exaggerated smirk is stuck on his face, until he sees jisoo's expression. there's that same small smile on his lips that doesn't quite reach his eyes. jisoo swallows, his arm limp against his side. then, catching junhui's gaze, quickly flashes him a smile before shutting the door completely.

save for the guitar playing, jisoo is nothing like yanpeng.

junhui's only memory of yanpeng spans across the awkward adolescent summer of 2010 - the uncomfortable chafe of starched collar, limbs too long and excited boyish smiles. with jisoo, however, there's only the thought of cool, breezy quiet and long, yearning talks in hushed whispers. there's also the occasional hand holding and heads-on-shoulders, but junhui tries not to indulge himself beyond reason.

jisoo is kind, pliant, and overly generous. he's a good person, really, but he's always catching junhui unawares with his friendliness. it leaves junhui wanting, and trying so hard not to will it to happen. jisoo is no coin, much less a hot-headed experiment for the sake of curiosity.

junhui holds back, tossing pennies in the air and catching them before they can yield to his command.

the day jeonghan returns, abashed and exhausted, junhui's at the door, mildly spiteful; jisoo looks relieved to see jeonghan, and physically delivers him into seungcheol's waiting arms. junhui knows it's childish, knows it's terrible of him to be irked that jeonghan's back - a part of him is soothed now that their resident angel is back, but still.

minghao pulls him away, glaring. "wen junhui."

"what is it, hao?"

"you're not exactly being discreet."

junhui shrugs. "i haven't done anything."

"of course you haven't," minghao says, rolling his eyes. "what was that with jeonghan-hyung?"

junhui shakes off minghao's grasp. "i'll tell mingyu to cook up something for tonight then."

it's the worst idea he could have. there's something eeriely reminiscent of the way jeonghan and seungcheol are curled up on the couch, lost in their own world. junhui's just done with the dishes - he had been avoiding minghao's rebuke - and stepping out of the kitchen.

he spots a familiar figure near the dining table staring over at jeonghan.

it's jisoo. jisoo is looking in jeonghan's direction, a small smile on his lips- something in junhui snaps, like a dam bursting apart, acrid bitterness flooding through him. his hand mechanically rises up to cover his mouth, overwhelmed.

don't look at me, junhui thinks, please, please, please, why don't you look at me like that?

jisoo's head turns towards him instantly. junhui barely registers anything before jisoo's hand is wrapped around his wrist, guiding him back to his room. they stumble awkwardly through the hallway, familiar but still unused to the dark.

in the safety of his room, jisoo's grasp suddenly feels like a morbid reminder of all his dreams. he tries to shake it off, and jisoo lets him, if only to cup his face.

"junhui," jisoo whispers, "i'm going to do something. stop me if you don't want this."

jisoo moves forward, and presses his lips against junhui's. it's everything jisoo is - kind, soft, pliant, and generous. junhui stills, struck by the strange, giddy feeling of redemption, or something better. and then he pushes back, hand tangled in jisoo's shirt, insatiable heart going want, want, want.

(something fizzles, pulses, stings just right.)

when jisoo pulls away, eyes gentle and bright, junhui feels the rush of spring bloom in the tiny, tentative space between them. he moves in, guided by jisoo's fingers rubbing circles on his jaw, and learns to savour the taste of new beginnings in the quiet murmur of his name.

#seventeen #seventeen ff #seventeen fanfic #junshua #junhui #jisoo #joshua #angst #fluff #modern magical au #aaaaaaaaaa i am so in love with this au aaaaaaa

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xtruss · 4 years

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Opinion

Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez's Eloquence in the Face of Arrogance is a Master Class

By eviscerating a Republican’s excuse for his foul-mouthed abuse the congresswoman showed the power of rhetoric

— Francine Prose | Guardian USA | Tuesday July 28, 2020

It’s worth watching the video to see how Ocasio-Cortez, without particular outrage or emotion, pronounces three words that explode like smart bombs in the decorous House.’ Photograph: AP

Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s 23 July address to the House of Representatives was a welcome reminder of what political speech can be: eloquent, lucid, truthful, intelligent, moving and persuasive. It also made you aware of how low public discourse has sunk. From both sides of the aisle, we hear soundbites, attacks, promises that vanish before the ink dries, reasons the rich should prosper while the poor stay poor. We’ve learned to accept the word salad – rambling, digressive, inarticulate, salted with evasions, distortions and lies – we’re served whenever Trump comes to the table.

By contrast, Ocasio-Cortez’s address was a masterpiece of heartfelt, unadorned plain speech that (consciously or instinctively) employed the tools of the orator, the rhetorician and preacher. What carries us is repetition, rhythm, emphasis, cadence, pronunciation (the congresswoman leans into her Bronx vowels) and a seamless transition from each event or idea to its larger implications.

Walking up the steps of the US Capitol building, the congresswoman, as she tells it, was “minding my own business” when she was “accosted” by Representative Ted Yoho, a Republican from Florida, who “put his finger in my face … He called me disgusting, he called me crazy, he called me out of my mind, he called me dangerous.” Then she went into the building to vote, to make sure, she adds, that her constituents from New York’s 14th district can keep their homes, feed their families and live with dignity.

When she reappeared on the steps, Yoho, in front of the press, called her, “and I quote, ‘a fucking bitch’.”

It’s worth watching the video to see how Ocasio-Cortez, without particular outrage or emotion, pronounces three words that explode like smart bombs in the decorous House. The insult is horrifying, but she’s not all that horrified. Because she’s had working-class jobs, she’s heard it before. She’s “tossed men out of bars”. So she’s not some fragile flower – read female – who can’t take the rough and tumble of Capitol Hill. Yoho’s abuse was neither “deeply hurtful” nor “piercing” to her, though she notes that his behavior was not an isolated event but part of a “culture of impunity” that accepts “violence and violent language against women”. By saying it in front of a reporter, he was giving other men “permission” to do the same.

It’s too bad this had to happen, but I, for one, am glad that “fucking bitch” has been entered – for the first time, I assume – into the Congressional Record. As hateful as those words are, they alone can express the nastiness, rage and contempt that are heavily diluted when the insult is euphemized into “a vulgar slur” or (as Yoho’s spokesman sweetly described it) “a barnyard epithet”.

Meanwhile Ocasio-Cortez’s speech takes another turn. She’d been ready to let the incident go, “pack it up and go home – It’s just another day, right?” But what drove her to speak up were the excuses Yoho gave Congress, insisting that it was all a “misunderstanding”, that “having been married for 45 years with two daughters, I’m very cognizant of my language”.

In a few rhythmic sentences, Ocasio-Cortez pulverizes the “daughter defense” – the suggestion, made by men including Brett Kavanaugh and Mitch McConnell, that having female children automatically makes them more sensitive and respectful to women.

“And this I could not allow … I could not allow the victims of verbal abuse, and worse to see that – to see that excuse and see our Congress accept it as legitimate. I do have issue with using women, our wives and daughters as shields, as excuses for poor behavior. I am someone’s daughter too. I am their daughter, and they did not raise me to accept abuse from men.”

“Having a daughter does not make a man decent. Having a wife does not make a decent man. Treating people with dignity and respect makes a decent man.”

That resonant word, decent, may remind some listeners of how the chief counsel for the US army, Joseph N Welch, began the downfall of the destructive and despotic Senator Joseph McCarthy by asking the famous question, “Have you no sense of decency?”

“She’s Different From What We’re Used to Hearing. She Makes Us Pay Attention!”

Ocasio-Cortez ends her speech with more repetitions (accost … without remorse) and variations as she thanks Representative Yoho and brings us full circle back to the Capitol steps. “I want to thank him for showing the world that you can be a powerful man and accost women. You can have daughters and accost women without remorse. You can take photos and project an image to the world of being a family man and accost women without remorse and with a sense of impunity. It happens every day in this country. It happened here on the steps of our nation’s Capitol. It happens when individuals who hold the highest office in this land admit, admit to hurting women, and using this language against all of us.”

In rhetoric, the name for the repetition of an opening phrase is anaphora, and if you Google the word, several sites direct you to Marin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech. I’m not suggesting that Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez comes anywhere near MLK’s oratorical powers, but she’s on her way. She’s different from what we’re used to hearing. She makes us pay attention. With her tone, word choice, posture, her honesty, she makes it clear (in case it needs clarification) that women are as articulate, intelligent and brave as any man. Women have been accused of being irrational but the logic of Ocasio-Cortez’s speech proves (in case it needs proving) that women are as cool-headed as any man, certainly more than Yoho.

If, in the future, there are public speaking classes, students might study Ocasio-Cortez’s speech, which has been widely tweeted, viewed on YouTube and other social media. At least 10 of those views are mine. This was partly because she was speaking for me and every woman who has ever been called a fucking bitch. But I also kept watching because, as someone who, to quote Yoho’s sad, stiffly awkward phrase, is “cognizant of language”, I wanted to watch the congresswoman’s speech and try to figure out how she did it.

— Francine Prose is a former president of PEN American Center and a member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters and the American Academy of Arts and Sciences

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sigma7 · 7 years

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give him the stick DON’T give him the stick

The good news: the Fenslerfilms versions of the classic GI Joe PSAs have been converted to HD!

youtube

The bad news: some Wikipedia buzzkill has decided that the exhaustive description of the PSAs on the Fenslerfilm Wikipedia page is just not encyclopedic-enough to retain on the page itself. It’s relegated to the history of the page, but just to insure the survival of these laser-precise summaries, I’m including them below. Given a year for each, I could not write better summaries.

#1: You're Not My Friend A young boy gets lost at a carnival while checking out a shooting tent. He bumps into Alpine, who confuses the boy with, "Mi mi mi mi," noises, in a send-up of the poor animation of characters' speaking mouths. Alpine quickly adds, "Naw, I'm just kiddin' with ya." The boy's friends return and ask, "Hey man, who's that weird dude you're talking to, bro?" The boy awkwardly says to Alpine, "My friends are here, oh cool, s-s-see you later." Alpine's face then strains as he appears to fart.

#2: Blanco Nino Some children are playing football. One of them is tackled roughly to the ground. He discovers that his nose is bleeding and asks for someone to take him to the hospital. Another kid turns to him and says "you sure about that?" Footloose shadows over the boys and says authoritatively, "Nice catch, blanco niño, but too bad your ass got saaaacked!" After which Footloose appears, through video editing techniques, to tackle the boy.

#3: Body Massage Two boys on bikes stop in front of a downed live wire on the road. One suggests that they "launch" over it. Roadblock approaches and asks, "Who wants a body massage?" He casts the wire away as he sings softly to himself in a Barry White-style baritone ("Mr. Body Massage Machine...GO!"). One of the boys then asks "Eeeeeh, what the hell?" Roadblock proudly responds, "Body massage!"

#4: Fire On Your Sleeve Two boys are camping. While putting more logs on the campfire, one says, "Speaking of logs, I'm going to take the Cosby Kids down to the river," then one of the boy's sleeves catches fire. Spirit runs in speaking in a Native Indian language (sampled from Brocket 99). He wraps the boy in a blanket and rolls him on the ground for an excessively long time. Spirit lectures the boy again in his strange language. The other boy asks, "You didn't take anything out of our tent, did ya?" Spirit gives an answer (once again in vernacular) and gives a slight nod.

#5: Ice Three boys race onto a frozen lake, the first one crying, "Last one there's a penis pump!", while the other two attempt to catch up, shouting, "That's not fair!" over each other (a theme which continues throughout this PSA). The first boy slides on the ice ("Holy cow, I'm totally going so fast. Aw, fuck!") and then slips, cracking the ice. While the other two attempt to walk out to rescue the boy, Snow Job approaches on skis. The two boys ask for help, but Snow Job launches a foul-mouthed tirade at them in a Cockney accent. When the children reach out with a stick, Snow Job approves ("Give him the stick."), then immediately contradicts himself ("Don't give him the stick!"). When they look at him and reply simultaneously ("We're sorry," and "Do you know my dad?"). Snow Job then sings a loud "Oh" to an A note in a bass-baritone voice.

#6: Kids Fry Two children are wakened by a smoke alarm. They approach the door, but Barbecue arrives at the window, letting out a series of vocoded noises. He opens his palm toward one of the kids and releases an energy pulse, disintegrating the child. The other boy looks at Barbecue in bewilderment, then succumbs to the same fate.

#7: Porkchop Sandwiches Two boys are in a kitchen. Their dubbed voices make them sound like they are mentally challenged. One of the boys turns on the stove and puts a frying pan on it. The other boy, who is standing in the doorway to the kitchen eating an apple, says to him, "You don't know how to cook anything." The boy standing in front of the stove says "Yeah I do." The flame from the burner ignites curtains which are hanging near the stove, causing the boy who turned it on to start stuttering in panic. Blowtorch runs in, shouting "porkchop sandwiches!" This line is one of the most frequently quoted by fans, and Fensler has until recently sold T-shirts sporting the phrase. He arrives at the kitchen door and in a panic-ridden voice orders the children: "Oh shit, get the fuck out of here! What are you doing? Go, get the fuck out of here, you stupid idiot! Fuck, we're all dead! Get the fuck out!" His panicked tone of voice contrasts oddly with his calm body language. Outside, he tells them, "My God, did that smell good!" prompting a stream of gibberish from one of the boys. One of the boys says something along the lines of, "Detector no go and you tell me, do things, I done runnin'..." This is met with Blowtorch's staring toward the camera, followed by a closeup of that same stare.

#8: Slip A boy is standing on the edge of a cliff, and his friend runs off toward the woods shouting, "Mom, Dad, come here! You gotta see this! This is so cool—" The cliff edge the boy is standing on then gives way, and the boy falls into the sea, screaming, "Shiiiiii-(t)" as the cliff crumbles beneath him. The PSA cuts off abruptly at this point, lasting only nine seconds in total.

#9: Belch Kids playing baseball get into a heated argument over whether a runner is safe or out. Cutter (apparently drunk) arrives and challenges one of the boys to what is apparently a belching contest (represented by the voice-actors as a lengthy vocal fry vocalization). The boy initially demurs, suggesting a different kid as an alternative participant. Cutter refuses, explaining: "Because I already had him. That's right, kids, I already had him." The boy reluctantly agrees to play, and after about 32 seconds of "uhhhhhh" belching-noises from both, the boy cannot do it anymore and concedes defeat, but Cutter continues in a trance-like state for another 40 seconds until the PSA ends, with an excessively long final note, lasting about 20 seconds, on the chorus of "G. I. Joooooooooooooe..."

#10: Bus Rider A boy and a girl high on medicine cabinet drugs and/or possibly alcohol go into the kitchen to get some more, with the boy saying, "Yeah, we should totally hit it again but I get first dibs on it." Doc appears in the window singing a dancehall song. The boy joins him in a bizarre high-pitched voice until it ends. Doc repeats an approximation of "Sunshine dey yah, a time fi di bus ride," in nearly indecipherable patois. Based on the song "Fun Time Deh Ya" by Night Rider.

#11: There's No Retard In Team Kids playing soccer accost their goalkeeper for failing to stop a shot ("There's no retard in team!"). Flint approaches and gives the kids a bewildering account of the day's international news. The news is as follows, "Damage to the base is said to be heavy and the Israeli jets are reported to have made it back to their headquarters." The team scores and while celebrating Flint returns and his news report continues: "A 49-year-old unidentified man went berserk last night, opening fire with a 12-gauge shotgun in a crowded downtown restaurant... Fighting broke out overnight between rival factions along the Israeli-Syrian border. Initial reports claim the Israeli fighters bombed a guerrilla base, kill—" with the "G.I. Joe" chorus ending, cutting Flint off in mid-sentence. The news announcements were sampled from "Segue (II)" off New Power Generation's 1995 album Exodus (Track 15). The same samples were also used on Megadeth's "The Scorpion" from the 2004 album The System Has Failed, the Spin Doctors' "What Time Is It," Chamillionaire's song "The Morning News," off his 2007 album, Ultimate Victory, and Jonathan Coulton's song "Shop Vac." The announcements can also be heard in Cowboy Bebop's "Session 5: Ballad of Fallen Angels", playing on a radio in the background during Annie's store scene; the video game Grand Theft Auto's in-game radio station "Head Radio"; the Sega Dreamcast game Shenmue 2, during the music track "Gifts"; in the background of episode 1 of Californication; and in the game Fahrenheit, where it can be faintly heard among static on a restaurant's radio. This also played in a radio news report in the movie "XIII".

#12: Car Accident While riding bikes without lights or reflectors, two boys narrowly avoid an accident with Dusty's jeep. He crashes and runs over to the boys with helicopter noises in the background, bellowing a butch version of the "Game Over" theme from Sega Rally Championship ("Game Over Yeaaahhhhhh!") to the boys.

#13: Pink Purse A boy talking in ebonics jumps a gap at a building site and a sound effect plays, presumably because the pit shown is far too wide for a child to jump across without supernatural assistance. Before completing the gap, he tells his companion "It's just eee threasy (three easy) steps, just flip it, stick it, and see you later bye!" The young girl is hesitant to do the same. He exhorts her to try, telling her "You better bring it." Lady Jaye approaches and asks them, "Kids? Did you happen to see a pink... um, I wanna say, vinyl purse around here somewhere? ...I'm just dying to get my cigarettes." The boy reels back, protesting that he hasn't seen any purse, but the scene slows down in the middle of his sentence in order to poke fun at the low quality of inbetweening in the spot, showing a loss of volume in the boy's head in different frames. The girl responds in a peculiar manner; she appears to slow down time to the point where her animation frames (four in total) are played for several seconds each. On the last frame, she lets out a surprising "Bah!" sound. The film ends with a shot of Lady Jaye smiling nervously.

#14: Motorcycle A boy named Eric is being talked to by a stranger off-screen, who is attempting to give important life advice to the boy. He talks at breakneck speed, and when Eric fails to pay attention, the man drives off, annoyed. The monologue is as follows: "Now you listen to me, Eric. You don't blow your money on those comic books, you understand? They don't do you a damned bit of good, and the nude mags, you're gonna be inheriting mine when you're 16 anyway. Now look, the junk food and the candy just rots your teeth, gives you bad breath, and the girls run like hell. Stay the hell away from buying any rock TV shirts, or hip hop gear, or anything like that. Arcade games—pick out one that you can do, okay? ONE that you can do as opposed to a whole bunch of them that you don't know what the hell you're doing. Techno music just puts a hole in your brain an... are, are you listening to me? Look at me when I'm talking to you!" At this point, the man drives away and Wild Bill approaches on a motorcycle. He treats Eric and Eric's friend to a confusing, tone-deaf and completely non sequitur rendition of Arlo Guthrie's Motorcycle Song. Perhaps the most confusing aspect is that Eric's friend appears to morph after the stranger drives away. He was clearly an Eric clone, but takes on a much darker complexion and different clothes by the time Wild Bill arrives. This friend later attests that he's "about to putdapressabutdawutdawiddaman." Wild Bill continues to sing when Eric shrugs his shoulders saying that he doesn't know what he's doing, but gets cut off by him singing "I just wanna ride my motorcy..." then pauses for a second to say the remaining "...cle."

#15: Help Computer A boy approaches a dog to pet it saying, "Aw, hell no, what's up, dog?", but the dog reacts violently, causing the boy to back away. Mutt arrives and says, "Hey kid, I'm a computer! Stop all the downloadin'!" as the boy steps back from the dog. The dog leaves. Mutt puts his hands on the boy's shoulders and asks him to, "Help computer." The boy explains, "I don't know much about computers, other than, other than the one we got at my house, and my mom put a couple of games on there and I play 'em." Mutt, either annoyed by this or so angered that his software malfunctions, replies with a garbled robotic message from the NBC series NewsRadio.[19] The sound byte is specifically from season 3, episode 24 entitled "Space". It is the sound that Dave's artificially intelligent chair makes when it is being shut down against its will.

#16: Swimming Two kids are swimming in a lake (one splashing the other shouting "You like it, you love it, you need it!") but a thunderstorm develops. One kid gets out but the other stays in. Deep Six rises from the water, surprising the boy who's still in the water (shouting an exaggerated "Oh yosh!") and shepherds him onto land. The boys are terrified as Deep Six's protection suit gives him muffled speech so it is impossible to understand what he is saying. One of the boys asks, "Are you in the Army?" Lightning strikes the water and the second boy says, "If I had been in that water... dead." Deep Six continues to lecture the boys in his muffled tone, and one boy responds with some lightning fast dialogue which sounds something like "It's really cold out here...bye!"

#17: Australian Kids who are playing truant hang around an abandoned refrigerator. Recondo (with an Australian accent) is keeping tabs on them. He says, "I'm glad you guys... skipped the class today. We're havin' fun, aren't we?" One of the kids replies, "I wanna play videogames." He responds, "We had a good conversation, heh heh heh. You, you're the ringleader," followed by a burst of maniacal gibberish. As he puts one of the children in the refrigerator he exclaims, "Go'n, get in that fridge there, boy!" and "They don't understand! We gotta sneak back in the school." One other kid expresses a desire to get in the fridge, too. Recondo's chuckling ends the PSA.

#18: Pimp A blind boy and his friends are out walking in the country. The blind boy (with the help of his white cane) is acting like a stereotypical pimp to the annoyance of his friends, who tell him, "Brian, you ain't no pimp, dude!" The blind boy, looking for his money, says "Where's mah money?" A blonde girl speaks up and says "That's my money." Brian then replies; "Man you're just a Jealous motherfucker!", possibly since he is a pimp. Spirit approaches them, speaking in the same Native American language used in PSA04, also sampled from Brocket 99. The blind boy finds a cat in a hollow log. The girl then says that "it's such a wonderful experience here with the Indian."

#19: Fire Alarm Starts with the scene of a house on fire. A boy challenges a boy to push a fire alarm saying, "Bet you won't touch that button, bitch." He tries to do so, but Barbecue approaches them, making the same noises he makes in "Kids Fry," stops the boy from pushing the button, and pops off his helmet. He says (with a slight Upper-Midwestern accent) "Hey guys. Ah, you know it's funny, these people, they go to sleep, they think everything's fine, everything's good... They wake up the next day and they're on fire."

#20: Dockside Bars Two boys have a race through a park. One takes a nearby bicycle to cheat, while the other catches up, saying, "Hey, what the fuck? No way! Suck my dust, bitch!" Shipwreck stops them both, says, "I believe I knew your mother, son," and asks if his name happens to be Johnny. He then asks a series of questions implying that he is the boy's long-lost father. In the end, he asks "Does your mother still hang out at dockside bars?" The boy is bewildered, but Shipwreck follows up with his next question; "Johnny, do you play baseball?" The line of questioning used by Shipwreck is reminiscent of Captain Oveur's questioning of a child passenger in the comedy film Airplane!.

#21: Water Skiing A child is waterskiing. She quickly falls off. Scarlett approaches and the child enthusiastically says, "My turn! My turn! My turn!". She then takes off on the water skis. Scarlett watches on and hums a tune, which develops into a scat singing improvisation session.

#22: Mr. LaFitte Some kids are skateboarding in a roller park with sound effects from Tony Hawk's Pro Skater. Gung-Ho approaches with a girl he calls Susie. He acts with a flamboyant homosexual stereotype telling the girl, "Susie, don't forget your sandwiches!" The boys approach him and he says "Oh, you boys look so lovely in your little outfits." The Yellow Helmeted kid says "Hey! Whats up Miss, uhh..Mister LaFitte?" The Red Helmeted Kid says "Hey.. Watch me Ollie!", referring to a skating move. GungHo then says "I just want to eat you up!" Yellow Helmet Kid then says "Love the tattoo, Mr.LaFitte." GungHo places his hands onto his hips and says "Look at all your different colored hats!" (The Gung Ho character's name is Ettienne R. LaFitte)

#23: Anime This PSA is entirely in Japanese. Kids are making a treehouse. One of them falls but Quick Kick arrives just in time to catch him. A nonsensical conversation in Japanese takes place, which consists mainly of stereotypical phrases from a Japanese-language learning course ("What time is it?", "Please wait while I change my clothes", "Nice to meet you", "How are you?", "Please call me in two or three days.") and has no relevance (when translated) to the incidents in the PSA. The closing chorus is sung in Japanese ("Jii waratashi fuzukuru!"). The timing, music, and ending are all parodies of classic anime.

#24: Buzz Lightyear Three boys are on a boat. One makes an insult about the other's mother ("I fuckin' haxxord your mom's ass last night"). The insulted boy replies with "You might want to put a vest on", and then proceeds to knock the insultee (who is not wearing a lifejacket) off the boat with the sail. The third boy then says "Orange vests are for pussies", clearly in a tone mocking a previous (unheard) conversation with the drowning boy, while wearing an orange vest himself. Deep Six arrives in a submersible boat and drags the boy to safety. Deep Six, still speaking in an unintelligible muffled falsetto through his diving mask, tries to lecture the boys. One of them asks, "Hey, aren't you Buzz Lightyear?", and another whispers "I love your movies." Deep Six gets noticeably angry about this comparison and shouts in his muffled voice.

#25: Fuckin' Old School A girl turns to a boy and says "fuckin' old school". The boy in turn faints but it is edited to appear as if he is break dancing within a large group of children. A chiptunes instrumental plays throughout alongside sporadic crowd reactions. Airtight appears in an extreme close-up, and says (over the music) "Damn... these beats are so fresh... sssssssnap!"

#gi joe #porkchop sandwiches #who wants a body massage #GAME OVER YEAH #holy cow I'm totally going so fast AAAH FUCK

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