#the fuck is this guys name.?? i hate him. i hate him so bad
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The Hills
Genre: angst, smut smut smut, fluff ending
Warnings: toxic relationship, fighting, sexual conduct, 18+ minors dni, Matthew loving praise and compliments
Featuring: matthew tkachuk x female reader
Summary: you and matt fight hard…but when the fighting is hard, the making up is so much harder ;)
Note: in honor of the panthers win, i figured today would be the day i post this. Haven’t written smut in awhile so fingers crossed it’s not awful
You ran your hand through your hair as you watched Matthew skate off the ice. He’d just gotten into a bench clearing brawl that resulted in him being ejected from the game. While him being a pest and occasionally fighting was part of his game you were used to, it didn’t mean you had to like it. And sure, you obviously come to games to support the team. But it sucks having to sit in the stands while your boyfriend is hitting the showers early.
“Y/n, you okay?”
You looked over at Sam Reinhart’s girlfriend, trying to muster up a smile but she could see right through you. “I just hate when he does this shit. Cause now I get to deal with him at home.” Once there was a stoppage in play you threw your bag over your shoulder and stood up, “I’m going down early.” The girls not blaming you, they knew your relationship with Matthew all too well by now and when you both were in your moods, it was best to let you be.
Things with Matthew were great 60 percent of the time, 40 percent of the time you often wondered why the hell you two were together. You’d been together 3 years now and yet the fighting only seemed to get worse. But on the flip side, so did everything else. The sex, the romance, everything seemed heightened the longer you two stuck it out.
Making your way down to the family area you knew you’d be waiting awhile, with Matthew only having been ejected in the second period. But you wanted to be by yourself, your frustration and anger not fair to take out on the girls who were trying to enjoy the rest of the game. You helped yourself to the complimentary drinks, though you knew it probably wasn’t the best idea with you already being frustrated. Alcohol was just adding gasoline to the fire.
buzz buzz
Picking up your phone you saw Matthew’s name flash across the screen, meaning he’d finished showering and getting any medical attention after his fight.
“Where ya at?”
“Family area.”
Turning your attention back to the game being broadcast on the large tv’s in the area, you hadn’t noticed Matthew walking over to you. “Fucking 6 drinks? Jesus Christ, is the game that bad?” He chuckled as he grabbed your chin and pulled you in for a kiss. “Yeah, it fucking sucks when your boyfriend gets thrown out in the second period and I’m left watching anyone but him.” He rolled his eyes at you as he turned his attention to the screens. His fingers intertwining with yours as he stood with you for a bit, needing to leave in the last few minutes to be in the locker room with the boys for the post game talk from coach.
He kissed your head before leaving, “maybe fix the attitude before I come back out huh? I’m not in the mood for the bullshit tonight.” You rolled your eyes as you flashed him a fake smile, the drinks hitting you all at once and you were also not in the mood, but you knew it was inevitable. The two of you already egging each other on.
“Have a good night guys, see you Monday.”
Matthew called to his teammates before meeting you at the end of the hall to head to the car. Your six drinks definitely had you a bit more than tipsy, and he could tell. Simply ignoring it as he took your hand in his, not wanting to start a fight at the rink in front of anyone. The walk to the car silent, but once the doors closed, he unloaded on you.
“Are you fucking serious? Getting drunk, by yourself? In front of god knows who from the organization! Do you think? Sometimes I truly don’t get what goes through your head or convinces you to do this shit.”
“You!”
Without hesitation you spat back at him as you threw your bag into the backseat. Resting your head on your fist as you leaned against the window, not wanting to look at Matthew.
“Me? I make you drink and make a fool of yourself? I’d love to know how the fuck I do that.”
“Because I’m dating a guy who loves to start shit. To play dirty, take cheap shots, get in dumb ass fights for fun on the ice and he gets thrown out. I can never enjoy a game and cheer you on like all the other girls get to do.”
His grip on the steering wheel tightening as he tried to bite his tongue. Knowing you were drunk made it hard to be truly angry with you, because you were spitting out harsh digs. But he knew this was coming from a place of hurt within you, and he knew to take some of it for what it was.
The rest of the ride was silent, Matthew trying to cool off while you were trying to bite your tongue and not say another drunken fueled slew of harsh comments.
As he pulled into the garage, he took the key from the ignition before looking at you frustrated. His voice coming out calm but stern as he spoke, letting you know he was upset and more importantly, he was hurt.
“If you feel like you have no reason to be proud of me, or to cheer for me. Then, don’t fucking come! Stop coming to games. Stop wearing my jersey, or any of the custom game day shit I buy for you. Because if you’re not proud to be my girlfriend and support me, whether I’m scoring goals or getting in fights, then I don’t want you wearing any of that shit. Pretending like you support me when really you wish I was something else.”
Before he could say anything else, you stormed off and into the house. Immediately heading to your closet in your bedroom and pulling out any of the gameday jackets and jerseys Matthew had ever gotten you. Matthew soon trailing after, only to find you halfway down the stairs with a handful of clothes. Taking them to the backyard and tossing them in the fire pit, Matthew sprinting after you to stop the drunken act from going any further.
“You don’t want me to wear these? Fuck you! Then no one is ever gonna get to wear these again!”
Luckily Matthew had gotten to you before you dared light the fire pit and send the clothes up in flames. You tried fighting him but his grip on your waist was too strong, pulling you away from the fire pit as you began to cry.
The way Matthew held you could back you down from whatever cliff you were on. His embrace immediately relaxing your entire body as you cried in his arms. He just held you, not bothering to acknowledge what you were about to do in your drunken rage. Letting you have as long as you needed to calm down.
“I hate you, so much. How could you say that you don’t want me to come?” He shushed you as he helped you back to your feet, leading you inside. “Y/n, you have no right to criticize the way I play this sport. You’re making it about you when you know this is how I play my game. I was brought here, because of how I play. I’m successful in this league, for how I play my game. And I know you don’t mean any of this shit you’re saying tonight. But I’m not going to forget it. That shit hurts feeling like my own girlfriend doesn’t even support me.”
The tone of his voice immediately sobering you up. The last thing you ever wanted to do tonight was this, but once again, it was like the two of you fighting had become inevitable these days. You didn’t know what it was that made you two constantly get on one another’s nerves. It was like fighting had become your love language. Because the stronger the fight, the stronger you two made up.
Matthew had left you in the kitchen as he headed up the stairs to the bedroom, then into your shared closet. Tossing his tie to the floor before discarding his suit jacket and dress shirt with a sigh. He’d be lying if he said he never questioned why you two constantly did this, the fighting like crazy. Spitting harsh things to one another before always making up in the end. There’s no way it was healthy, but he loved you more than anything, and the second he ever thought of just walking away, he’d immediately regret even thinking about it to begin with.
He hadn’t even heard you enter the closet, slightly flinching as your arms snaked around his waist. Resting your head on his back as your hands ran up his stomach and over his chest. Not sure if you should attempt to apologize or not, waiting for some type of reaction from him to be your sign.
“Are you done?”
His tone a bit harsh as he relaxed more into your touch. “Matty I’m so fucking sorry. I, it’s not an excuse, I was drunk, and upset. But, you know I’m so fucking proud of you. I should have never said any of those things to you. Should never have even thought of burning those clothes. That all was so stupid.”
He somewhat chuckled as he listened to you apologize, his mind not even focused on the last hours events, just focusing on getting past it all.
He turned to face you, seeing you’d been crying downstairs, brushing you hair from your face before resting a hand on your cheek.
“We can’t keep doing this, fighting like crazy. Being so awful to one another just to turn around and say we didn’t mean it. There’s clearly something going on making us act this way. I don’t know if we get off on the fighting, but we can’t keep doing it. Especially after the shit you said tonight. You were ready to burn all of those clothes I’d gotten for you. I’ve never seen you like that. And that hurt.”
Your gaze dropping to the floor as you felt embarrassed, ashamed even of getting so drunk and taking out your frustrations on Matthew. It was stupid to be mad at him for getting ejected, because you know this is how he plays. You’ve known him to be this way since you started dating, and to compare him to anyone else is unfair.
“Baby I’m sorry. I’m so fucking proud of you. Every day, I’m proud of you. You fucking played in the playoffs last year with a broken sternum! While I found that hot as fuck that you fought through the pain, it did scare me at times. But you’re right, this is who you are. And I love that about you. I love seeing you slam guys to the ice, stick up for your teammates, and get to play the game you love as your job.”
Your compliments always working wonders on Matt, and it wasn’t that they were disingenuous. It was the way you complimented him that just did something to him. Hearing you say how hot he looks when he’s in the middle of a scrum, or when he lays a big hit. He’d let you compliment him for hours.
“Keep going.” He smirked down at you with a cocky grin, letting you know his anger was subsiding. His hands now moving to your waist, pulling you closer to him.
“I mean, you did look pretty hot beating the shit out of that guy tonight. Your mouth guard hanging out of the side of your mouth as you took him to the ice.” Your fingers playing with the curls of hair on his chest as you bit your lip.
“And don’t get me started with how sexy you looked sitting in the penalty box, legs spread apart as you caught your breath. I can’t tell you badly I wish I could’ve come in there and climbed right in your lap.”
He moaned as your hand traveled down to the bulge that was growing in his dress pants. “Well, who says you can’t still have your chance to climb in my lap tonight?”
Without warning he picked you up by your thighs, your legs subconsciously wrapping around his waist as he carried you into the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed and letting you have your moment in his lap. “How’s that feel baby?”
Grinding your hips so your ass painfully circled over his rock hard erection that was practically bursting through the seams of his dress pants. “Mmm, it’s amazing, but I think you might need to take those pants off. Feels like your zipper is about to pop.”
Slowly climbing off of him, you took your place on your knees as his hands flew to the buckle of his belt. Getting it undone and off, making your job easier. Making sure to palm him through his pants on your way to the button and zipper. Pulling his pants and boxers down in one motion as his cock sprang out and slapped his stomach. The sight mouth watering for you and you couldn’t wait to have him.
Matthew’s hands immediately grabbing fistfuls of your hair as he guided you down his length. Holding you as you deepthroated him. A low groan coming from his lips as his head fell back.
“Fuck me, y/n. You’re such a good girl for me.”
His words of encouragement going right to your core as you clenched your thighs, feeling your pussy pulse. As much as you wanted him to have his way with you, you knew that you needed to make up for the shit you pulled earlier.
Your head now bobbing up and down on his length as his hips were thrusting to meet your mouth, the expletives pouring from his lips before he forced you down, taking all of him once again.
“Jesus Christ baby, you’re such a good girl taking all of me in your mouth like that.” He pulled you from his length, pulling you to your feet as he stood up. Looking down at you with lust filled eyes before swapping your places.
“Get these clothes off.”
Matthew working on your bottoms as you handled your top half. By the look in his eyes you knew you were in for some serious teasing. His favorite way to get back at you for nights like tonight.
He trailed kisses up your thighs before brushing his scruff over your core, causing your hips to buck against him. “Mmm, someone is needy tonight huh? Too bad you’re gonna have to be really patient.”
You groaned as he kissed and touched everywhere except where you needed him. But you knew if you tried to lead him in that direction, he’d only do the opposite.
Matthew loved how needy you’d get, seeing the want in your face as he teased you. His fingers lightly tracing your slit, feeling how wet you were for him. Taking his fingers to his mouth and tasting you.
“Tell me what you want baby, I wanna hear you beg.”
Where did you start? You wanted it all, and you wanted it now. Your brain couldn’t pick one thing, your thighs pressing together in need or some form of pressure at your core.
Matthew pushed your thighs apart as he found his place between them. “I guess I get to pick huh? Make sure you tell me what feels good baby. You know I love hearing you.” He smirked before lowering himself down, hooking his arms around your thighs before his tongue traced up your slit.
“Fuck…oh my goddddd.” Your eyes rolling back as you arched your back. His touch feeling like fire as you tried your best to deepen the contact. Needing more.
He smirked against you as he focused on your clit. His tongue lapping up your wetness as he quickly slipped two fingers inside. A gaps catching in your throat as you immediately began grinding with his rhythm. “Mmm, yes baby.” He felt himself getting harder by the second at you grinding against him while his fingers thrust in and out of you. His tongue not stopping as your hands burried in his curls.
“Yes Matthew, don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop. God you make me feel so good.” Your back arching even further off the bed as you felt your release close, moans and expletives continuing to pour from your lips.
Picking up his pace as he felt you close, Matthew locked eyes with you. Lust filling his orbs as his fingers turned their efforts to your clit. The sensation too much as your hips bucked and legs began to shake, your breath short as you tried holding in your screams.
“You think I can make you squirt for me tonight baby? Show me what a good job I’m doing?”
“God fuck, yes Matty. I wanna squirt for you so bad. Please!”
Matthew quickly pressed his mouth back to your clit as his fingers thrust back inside you, riding you through this orgasm. Your entire body shaking as you kept your eyes locked with his, watching as you felt your release coming. Squirting all over him as his fingers never stopped. Draining you completely as you tried to catch your breath, his fingers now in his mouth as he tasted you.
“Fuck you’re delicious baby. Now get back in my lap.”
Sensing you were in a daze of lust and overstimulation, Matt picked you up, flipping you over and into his lap. Groaning at the feeling of your dripping pussy gliding along his length.
The two of you taking a second to catch your breath before you lined his cock with your entrance, slowly sliding down to adjust to him as you both let out a moan, taking all of him inside. “Fuck baby, I don’t think I’m lasting long tonight. You’ve got me so close already. Fuck me and show me what a good girl you are.”
And with that you pushed him back on the bed as you used his chest to support you, bouncing your ass up and down on his cock. His hands gripping your hips and slamming you down harder. He groans now deep as he could barely hold back, he thrusts sloppier as he reached his peak.
“Matty, fuck me. I know you need it baby. I need it. Give it to me please. I love when you pound my pussy baby.”
He pulled you down into his chest, wrapping his arms around you before he began to take over. Pounding your pussy as hard as he could, as fast as he could. Needing to give you what you needed, to get what he needed. Moans pouring from his lips as he held you tighter, your pussy dripping as you could barely breathe.
“Where do you want it baby? I’m gonna cum.”
“Anywhere, just give it to me please.”
He delivers a few more hard sloppy thrusts before moving you off of him, “knees.” He instructs you to find your place on the floor as he stands above you, his wrist quickly jerking his length as his hips buck and a soft groan erupts from him.
You’d taken his length in your mouth as he thrusted forward towards you. Taking all of him as he bucked his hips, emptying his release into your throat as you swallowed it all. “Fuck…me.” As you made sure you’d gotten every drop, you slowly pulled yourself from him. Matthew falling back onto the bed as he caught his breath.
“You’re fucking amazing baby.” He helped you up and pulled you in for a kiss, giving you a little spank on your ass.
“Now, go get all of those clothes out of the fire pit and then I’ll help you get cleaned up.”
#matthew tkachuk fanfic#matthew tkachuk imagine#nhl blurb#nhl fics#nhl imagine#nhl fanfiction#hockey imagine#hockey fic#matthew tkachuk#florida panthers
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Hey pretty do you still take requests? If you do please write something about Lewis Hamilton x Fem Reader and their relationship is like that one video of rihanna and asap where rhi is looking lusty at asap. Lmao I'm bad at explaining I'm sorry, anything will do tbh i trust you. 🥰
Those sinful eyes - Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader
ᝰ.ᐟ A/N: Oh i just know what you mean lol. All the requests in my account got deleted and this is recent so if you are one of those peeps who sent me a requests back then you are free to send it again, I'm very sorry for the long take. 💋
ᯓ★ One of the things you can use against lewis is your eyes. They have a big impact on him it can be staring up at him or staring down at him.
"Don't move so much babe, I'm trying to do your hair." You giggled as you place your feet behind your ass resting it on his knees to comfortably sit on his lap while he wiggled like a child, "I'm sorry missus." as his eyes traveled from your lips to your eyes.
"fuck.." he muttered looking at you breathlessly, "What you have a staring problem now?" you joked as your fingers made their way into his curls before carefully tugging a piece as you continued your work with braiding his hair since the fronts are the only thing that was left untouched.
"You are so beautiful and beautiful and beautiful." Lewis blabbed looking back at your left to right eyes as if he is watching a tug rope competition fighting over which side is he gonna look at with how close you are.
The biggest hate love he has on the way he folds quickly just by the eye contact. The intimate eye contact and smile does something to him that will make him want to go on convulsion.
George once pointed it out on him which became a whole joke on the grid.
"The family guy is here again." Max said as lewis approach the drivers who just sat down and talk after the practice race, "What do you mean, we don't have a kid yet?" lewis cluelessly said as he sat down between all of them.
"With how whipped you look at her oh you will be soon" George marked spreading his arms on the back of the chair to welcome lewis more to share a detail about both of yours relationship. "Have you seen how his girl look at her? If she looked at me that way i would even faint, lewis is just a humble guy." Lando pointed out to side lewis and to give him a concrete reason on why lewis acted like that when you look at him.
"I mean have you seen lewis? I would look at him that way too" max stated before sipping his redbull.
ᯓ★ Get dressed, get your nails done, buy all your make up, own him up.
Another weakness of his is seeing you all ready and pretty for somewhere you guys are going for a date or whenever you go to the paddock.
"Hey guys i wasn't informed we are all meeting in here." Lewis entered as the laughter and talking went down to silence, "What's that on your face?" Lando was the first one to speak up which broke the silence.
"What what??" Lewis asked as he rose his phone up using it as a mirror to look at himself
"That kiss mark.."
"Oh it's from my missus." Lewis answered confidently before sitting down as a big smile still plastered on his face like a kid who's proud of his medal, "Yeah of course.." George bitterly said rolling his eyes and smacking his lips.
"Wow the missus really wifed you up."
That's one of his title that he is very proud of, hell have you guys checked on lewis when both of you first talked? He is very proud of it bragging it to everyone as if he won the most luckiest man alive. What worse when you said yes to his proposal of being your boyfriend who will definitely be your husband soon.
One of his dream is making a family with you, finally hearing his surname beside your name.
"Hello Mrs. Hamilton you look beautiful in that dress." Lewis addressed walking at your back feeling his palms on your back like he is sculpturing like those statues in museum, "Thank you Mr. Hamilton, you look handsome as ever.." You complimented back placing your hand on his face caressing his jaw and cheeks, holding up an eye contact on him with pure admiration.
"Of course i do, you are the one who picked my outfit" he commented and yes he lets you pick on what he wears. There are times where both of you wear a matchy outfit or just a same color shirt just so people can't tell you both apart. "Did you like it?"
"Oh i love it Mrs. Hamilton, look how good we look besides each other" He kept the nickname before looking at both of you in the mirror holding your waist like the mirror will take a picture any time moment. "I think something is missing hmm.." he said looking at you.
"What do you mean, you look really good." You muttered looking back at him, "My kiss.." he pouted as you smack his chest feeling a sigh of relief. "Darling you scared me" you giggled before grabbing his face with one hand and placing a kiss on his cheek.
Looking at the pigment that rests on his face is like looking at the painting of work from the history. The memories and moments of how many times you have did this, it's like reminding everyone that you own him, The seventh time world champion who makes everyone know that he can't function without feeling the affection you give to him by the daily basis.
"How i love looking at that on my face everyday, God knows you will walk down the aisle as a scene and confirmation to everyone that i am gifted with a gorgeous wife like you."
#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x fem!reader#formula one#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader
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Thinking about being tenyas chubby lil girlfriend!!
...........................................
• Tenya adores you so, he would kiss and blow on your tummy making you feel oh, so loved!!
• He loves how much shorter than him you are and uses that to his advantage.
• Everyone sees tenya as some up tight guy who can't get laid but boy did this big dicked loser know how to fuck.
• He loves picking you up and slamming you on the bed, especially when he's angry with you.
• Bending you over in a mating press when you're feeling insecure, telling you how beautiful you are and how he loves you so.
• He loves spoiling you with his riches I feel. He just loves buying you your favorite food!
• It's not like he's trying to keep you plump or anything, especially since you had lost a lot of weight, he just wants you to be happy and he'd do anything for you!
• when you get into a fight, he's always first to apologize, he hates fighting, he hates arguing, he and hates being apart from you more than he hates being wrong, he'd do anything in his power to keep you close.
• I feel like a lot of people think tenya would be so nervous and jittering during his first time but I feel he'd actually, yeah he nervous, but he'd know what he's doing.
• like ofc it's possible, but there's no way this tall ass, fine ass, blue eyed god doesn't get horny from time to time, he def watches porn n DEF wacks his stack.
• I feel like he'd be into little things like holding you close, and 'making love' to you rather than 'fucking' you.
• he loves getting compliments about his eyes, he might have shit vision but boy are those things beautiful.
• he doesn't let people talk bad about you when you're around, not that he lets them when you're not but he knows how sensitive you are so if he's alone and someone says something about you or your body, he'll tell them to fuck off, but if you're around you can't convince me he won't get down n dirty behind your ass bro
• speaking of he's an everything guy, like legit, he's the kind of guy that can't say what he loves, however I feel he's more appealed to lips, than ass or thighs or boobs n shit like that, there's something so sexy about your lovely glossed lips.
• or when you have lipstick on and you want to suck his dick, the stains that get left on his girth as you deep throat his long veiny cock, he loves for it.
• he loves when you have little tears prickling from the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill as you gag around his cock, spit forming at the corner of your red tinted lips, your lipstick smudged all over you face.
• he's not a heavily sexual person, no but he does love giving you what you need, even if that's a good ol' dicking down.
• he just loves you so much, laying on your arms, your tummy, your thighs, boobs, ass, you name it he loves it, he wants to spoil you so much, he wanst to assure to you that you'll never have to lift a finger while hes here.
• he wants to be a hero, sure, but why be everyone's hero if he can't be yours?
Think'n bout ten ten🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽
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AN; he's such a sweetie bro, you can't tell me old women don't just love how formal and respectful he is bro????? I'm officially INLOVE W him bro, need me a lil geek in my life. I wanna fucking destroy him. Might have to make a corruption fic ab tearing this little handsome dork apart.
Oh n he don't call you no goofy shi like 'my little star' or wtf ever yagami yato got y'all thinking 💀
#tenya lida#iida tenya#tenya iida x reader#mha#mha x reader#hes so babygirl#tenten#chubby reader#cvnts-post
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After a bad breakup, Soap vows to never ever ever EVER date anyone again. No guys who're always just after a quick fuck and not much else (he has a thing for assholes, he is aware. He hates it too). No gals who nag and nag and cannot deal with his whole thing after the first bout of attraction wears off (he hasn't met a single patient woman in his life, he swears).
He's sick and tired of everything, of even trying. He wanted to marry his since as of two hours ago ex-girlfriend. And what did he get? A "sorry, I want to break up"! He's sitting by the river, looking at the ring he'd proposed with. It's nice. It's got his last name in it, because it's an heirloom. He's never gonna use it now. His sisters all only have girls. What even is the point? So he throws it into the river as far as he can.
He spends the rest of his leave trying to pretend he is not depressed.
//
Two months later, during his leave, Ghost pulls a fish out of the water. It's a nice catch for his dinner. But when he guts it, he finds a ring inside. It's really nice. Whoever lost it had to be missing it. But with only a last name, he has not much to go on to return it to its owner.
Still, he puts it in his wallet, just in case.
//
Another seven months later, Soap is transferred. Ghost barely acknowledges him for the first couple of months. He sure as fuck doesn't even know his name. Soap tries, despite everyone warning him, telling him he'll get himself killed playing with fire. Ghost never does anything to him, beyond the occasional friendly shove when Soap really gets on his nerves. Eventually, he stops telling Soap to go away nine out of ten times.
It takes over a year working together before Ghost learns Soap's name. By then, Ghost is sure he's in love, as ridiculous as it sounds. He's also sure he'll never do anything about it outside of his daydreams. But when he hears "John MacTavish" a bell in the back of his head rings. He fishes out his wallet, drops it, gets on one knee to pick it up while mumbling: "Johnny? Soap? I think I got something of yours."
Soap almost faints as Ghost pulls the ring out. It takes a moment to register that he knows that ring. His first thoughts are already out of his mouth by then: "Are you proposing to me, Ghost?"
"I... what?" Ghost looks at the ring then at Soap. "Looks like it," he admits.
Soap falls to his knees too. "We're not even together," he laughs.
"That a no?"
"That's a yeah why the fuck not."
They both break down laughing. But neither ever chickens out, walks the whole thing back. Soap's wearing his heirloom engagement ring. Ghost is telling everyone he proposed just to watch the faces of people.
They don't kiss until the first anniversary of their engagement.
I was NOT expecting that fish part alshdhdh I love this so much accidental proposals my beloved <3
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Guys I don't normally talk about this on this blog, so I'm only going to say it once, and im going to say it as calmly as I can:
Stop with the pro-Trump - sorry, "anti-Biden" propaganda.
Stop spinning this as a choice between good domestic policy and bad foreign policy vs. bad domestic policy and good foreign policy - there is no universe in which Donald "Muslim ban" "build the wall" "turn Gaza into a parking lot" "has streets named after him in Israel" Trump is an improvement on our foreign policy, no matter how much it may FEEL like we can't get any worse and no matter how aggressively some people try to spin his end-of-term (i.e., EARLY COVID ERA) detainment numbers as "proof" otherwise.
Letting him win the presidency does NOT imply to the Democratic party that Americans want better foreign policy, either - they look at what the majority of voters say as evidence of what the people want. This is why they're so damned wishy-washy - because leftists keep trying, and trying, and trying the inaction strategy...so they go for the actual voters. They go further right - because that's where the people they see as "motivated enough to care" are. Abstaining doesn't send the message "I hate both of these options" - it just says "I don't care." It says "do whatever you want to me or anyone else, it's no skin off my nose." It says "those protestors? They're a tiny loud minority. Most Americans want more war, not less."
You cannot boycott a government the same way you can boycott a business - they're getting your tax money anyway.
You cannot change the world by sitting on your hands and doing nothing. Anyone with power who tries to tell you that inaction will get you what you want is someone who is trying to silence you.
If voting were useless, if voting made no difference, if the right weren't utterly terrified of losing power, then we wouldn't have gerrymandering, voter suppression, disenfranchisement of prisoners, disenfranchisement of anyone with a felony record, voter roll purges, we wouldn't have had to fight to secure voting rights for women and POC, the list goes on. The worst people in the world really, really want you NOT to vote. I am begging people to be more aware that just because someone knows how to speak your language to spin your silence as action does NOT mean they have the best interests of you or ANYONE else at heart.
And there is so fucking much more at stake than this one issue and "imperialists' comfort". Half the horrible shit that has happened domestically in the past four years has been because Trump stacked the Supreme Court - the overturning of Roe v. Wade? Remember that? We're likely to have more vacancies in the next 4 years. If he gets more appointments, we could be fucked for DECADES.
"But what about the rest of the world?"
Look. If I can't convince you that Trump's foreign policy would be worse (even though it is), let's consider climate change. Let's consider environmental laws. You know who the first people fucked over by climate change are, no matter who it is that's fucking around? People in Africa and South America, mostly. Do you want to enable the dismantling of the EPA? Or are you willing to admit that someone whose first act upon being sworn in was to rejoin the Paris Agreement is a lesser evil in that regard, even if his foreign policy re: international weapons sales is maybe 5% less dogshit at best?
If I can't convince you that the lives of disabled and queer people in America are worth the same as anyone else's - not more, not less, but THE SAME - then can I at least convince you that not turning Brazil and Congo into 45°C uninhabitable wastelands, or at least buying some time against that ticking clock, is a worthwhile endeavor?
I know some of you think that there's a chance that if we let Trump win, it will galvanize people to fight back harder. We tried that in 2016-2020. People died. Laws against protests tightened up worse than they EVER have under Biden - I was getting emergency alerts about curfews on a daily basis, because of crackdowns against the BLM protests. The actions being taken against the antiwar protestors now are despicable, yes - but they are nowhere near the same level of intensity. Accelerationism is tricky like that though - it FEELS like you're getting more done when the pushback is harder, doesn't it? - but all it does in the end is kill more people and set precedents to set us even further back.
Trump wants to invoke the Insurrection Act. Martial law. Do you really think that we can take on the most expensive military in the world, domestically, and win?
Do you really think that there is ANY amount of "motive" that will be enough to see us WIN a sweeping Hunger Games-style, burn it all down and rebuild from zero, "revolution" - i.e., a civil war against the US military - at all, let alone in time to save a SINGLE person in Gaza, or anywhere else for that matter? Let alone in the 5-7 months it will take to elect and inaugurate a president? The system will go on, with or without us.
At the end of the day, this is a trolley problem. People are going to die, and it sucks, but there is no third option - BUT, if you pull the lever, the casualties will be fewer. The question is not of which option results in fewer deaths, it's not of which of those lives is "more important", it's not of whether or not the numbers are ACTUALLY somehow secretly equal - it is only of whether or not you can pull the lever, or at least admit to yourself that you can't bring yourself to do it instead of trying to invent a reason the higher death toll is an objectively better outcome, actually.
Please. Think calmly for a minute about what the alternative is. Remember everything Trump has very clearly said about Arabs, remember the streets named after him in Israel, before just assuming that at least he can't be any worse, let alone that he's going to somehow be good on foreign policy and spare at least one non-American for every American he kills. Think about EVERYTHING that's at stake instead of flying into a blind rage about how that evil traitorous Joe Biden wrote "gullible" on the ceiling, because when you mistake sitting on your hands for a political statement just because the plea to do so was wrapped in emotionally charged leftist lingo, you are playing PERFECTLY into fascists' hands.
Please.
#serious tag#uspol#current events#muting this btw dont try to start shit with me#im being as calm as i can be but for me to actually say this on main?#i am EXTREMELY done#and if i have to see any more ''oh both sides are just as bad#no i dont have any evidence that a single palestinian will be saved for any american killed i just want to believe it#or i want everyone to suffer equally'' shit on my dash from people who USUALLY KNOW BETTER#i am going to spontaneously combust with an intensity that could level a city block#the devil is gonna fuck us anyway. grab a fucking condom at least.#i am begging you. just grab the fucking condom.#i dont want to just produce yet another smug rant#i am gently grabbing you by the shoulders#but i am shaking with rage internally that this talking point has been so effective#finally if i cant convince you with logos#can i at least invoke pathos + ethos and point out#on the narrative lovers' website#that ''it cant possibly get any worse'' is what we call ''tempting fate''?#if you didnt suffer that badly under trump the first time then look at the infamous b-52 diagram#and stop letting people tell you your experiences are universal#if you did then stop believing people when they piss in your eye and tell you its raining#just because biden didnt immediately bring about utopia#we're still undoing REAGAN'S damage right-wingers LOVE to set time bombs like that
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[BAD DECISION #37] Faking It
warnings: pleased be seated for THE JANITORS CLOSET hehe, and iconic chapter in the bd universe. seokjin! pregnancy scares! tittie worship, thigh riding, semi-public, a lil self-pleasure, multiple orgasms, kissing <33, cum in panties??, idk, one of my fave bd smut scenes and they don't even shag! there's a lot of plot in there. all the fave characters!! and the biggest villains!!
a/n: i figured out the wrong headers!! this header was actually the og 36 header and the og 37 header is what I used for 36 lol
also also also i knew i said there would be more updates tonight buuuut I finished write #60 today so I'm editing that instead hehe. there's a direct reference to something said in this chapter in #60!
wc: 18k
bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)
AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI
In the quiet bustle of Jeongguk's favourite downtown cafe, Yoongi frowns.
"Are you even listening to me, Gguk?"
On the table sits a half-drunk coffee, the bitter taste a little too much for Jeongguk at this time in the morning. Notebooks open, pens scattered on the driftwood table, Jeongguk has spent the morning earnestly scrawling down revisions to his business plan.
The centrepiece of the table - a single white rose in a thin vase has been put on an empty seat. Just would have been in the way.
Also kind of made Jeongguk's blood boil, but he knows he shouldn't be irrationally angry at a fucking flower. A nice one at that. An expensive one.
Just like Seokjin had made sure to remind you on his calling card.
Happy Birthday, Darling. Exquisite roses for an exquisite girl. You can pretend they're from your new guy if you like - I'm sure he agrees you deserve the best that money can buy. All my love x
Stupid prick hadn't signed his name, but he has set a precedent. There's only one person who'd send you white roses. Not just a dozen. Not two dozen. Three fucking dozen. Thirty-six.
36 identical, soulless roses destined to die within a week or so, already embarking on their demise.
Danbi had snorted. "What's that? A rose for each time he cheated?"
You had smiled. Shook your head. "Think four dozen would be needed for that."
Jeongguk had been with you when you'd redistributed the roses to your CU ajumma aunties, and had to deal with their scrutinising eyes. Had smiled, and played nicely, even when they called Seokjin the 'handsome one'. As much as he might hate that tall mother fucker, he's got a pair of eyes. Knows he's a bloody god.
And so Jeongguk had moved the rose on his table out of sight before he even realised that he would need to.
The display of his iPad, which is still covered in your small fingerprints from lazy days wasted in his bedroom, has dimmed. It obscures the last revision of the plan. Hides it away from prying eyes.
A work in progress for years, now, he started planning for the samgyeopsal restaurant during his first semester of university. Had been a hypothetical project that he just hasn't been able to let go of. Like a first love, it kept coming back to the forefront of his mind.
For a little while - he's not sure how long; three, maybe four minutes - Jeongguk has been watching the beads of condensation sweat down the side of his glass. The straw, given to him by a barista with a warm smile and nothing else remotely interesting about her, lays beside the glass, still encased in its plastic wrapper.
He hears your voice and its tone of concern each and every time he raises the now-wet glass to his lips.
Careful, Koo. It'll hurt your teeth.
With every fabricated iteration of your concern, his mile-a-minute heart temporarily eases. For those scarce moments, it doesn't feel as if it'll burst straight out of his chest from the sheer exhausting stress of the unknown; His future. Yours. The one that you may or may not have together.
Funny how you're the main source of his stresses right now, and yet are the only thing able to ease them.
And so the straw remains as it is - still, untouched - just so he can pretend you care.
Dazed and most definitely confused when he looks up, Jeongguk's vacant eyes land on Yoongi. There's a frown on the older mans face, but a softness to his eyes.
"Hm?" Jeongguk hums. "Sorry?"
Sighing, Yoongi reaches for the straw that Jeongguk has so purposefully left discarded. Snaps the thin plastic wrapper apart. Reaches over and pushes the straw through a cluster of stubborn ice that just refuses to melt. Helps his friend in a way that makes total sense, and yet Jeongguk's mind is so jumbled up that it almost feels an attack.
It's him who frowns, now. Dimples form in the creases between his lips and cheeks, a thick line making itself known in the ridge between his eyes. Yoongi pays it no notice. Simply says, "Coffee'll stain your teeth. You'll thank me when you're older."
Perhaps he will. For now, Jeongguk's teeth are still pearly white. He's no need to worry about them.
"What wrong with you, huh?" Yoongi presses. "Spent all of last week badgering me to help you out, and now that I am, you've been a world away all morning. What gives?"
For all of the words that he could use to rabbit on about you for hours upon hours, they all seem to be stuck in his throat, dryly swallowed down like bitter pills sticking against his oesophagus.
To mention you now would be to admit that you occupy all vacancies inside his brain, in each and every waking moment. You're there in the moments he doesn't spend awake, too. A constant. Just as permanent as the glitter that's trapped between the woven threads of his cotton comforter, and as deeply embedded into him as the tattoos on his skin.
Pressing his lips together, piercing flipping in the corner of his mouth like it so often does, Jeongguk shrugs. "Sorry. Think my brain is shutting down."
If Yoongi suspects anything other than this as a viable excuse, he doesn't mention it. Just nods. Accept the white lie, and Jeongguk hopes he knows there's a white flag tied around it, too.
It's not that he wants to lie to Yoongi. He just doesn't want to be honest with himself.
Phone face down on the table, Jeongguk's device holds a whole host of contradictory search terms in his browser history. Questions he could probably ask Yoongi, but won't. Questions he should ask you, but most definitely won't.
Girlfriend - cause he figures it will bring back more results than fwb, or whatever else he could equate you to - missed her period, what should I do? Do girls miss periods often? Missed period, meaning, what? Having a baby with fwb, what now? Abortions? What if an abortion doesn't work? Is adoption good for the baby? How to be a single dad? What if only one person wants to keep it? What the fuck oenejoiegohhfo e.
The final result is still open in his browser. Was about three in the morning. Jeongguk had been sweating beneath his duvet, skin just as clammy as the condensation rings that have soaked into the wooden table from his iced coffee glass.
Nothing is confirmed. No test has been done - and yet he's thinking about where a playmat would fit in the living room, but also knows the name of the clinic downtown that would quickly and effectively prevent that from ever being his reality.
"We've made good progress," Yoongi tells Jeongguk. "Can take a break, if you like? Got a couple weeks till your meeting with the bank. Still got time."
There's no place in Jeongguk's business plan for a baby. He half wonders if maybe he should ask Yoongi where to factor it in. Knows better.
So instead, Jeongguk nods. "Yeah. Think that might be good. Sorry."
Yoongi just dismisses it. Tells Jeongguk it's fine, and really means it. Knows that trying to straighten out the fine details of a hypothetical business is harder than it would first appear. They've been troubleshooting; thinking of problems just for the sake of it. Making sure that Jeongguk's application for a business loan is airtight.
Of all of his friends, Yoongi is the only one who's ever been through anything similar. Is a fountain of knowledge with a wealth of experience that he's lucky enough to have access to.
Jeongguk half-thinks he must be mad for jumping in head first with this restaurant idea of his. Isn't sure he's got what it takes. Just knows he has to at least try, so he can say he can. So that even if he suffers the lows of failure, he will have experienced the highs of hope. Maybe even the uncharted territory of success.
"Could be a good idea to talk some things through with other people," Yoongi offers. "Someone in hospitality. Maybe DB. Get different scenarios neither of us have thought of yet."
Jeongguk doesn't need any more make-believe scenarios where you're involved. Has already thought of far too many all by himself.
But Yoongi doesn't know that, and Jeongguk would like to keep it that way. "Yeah. Maybe you're right."
It's this encouragement from Yoongi that has a text from Jeongguk pinging through to your phone a quarter of an hour later. Phone in your back pocket, you'll check the notification that buzzed quietly in a moment or so.
For now, you're locked in conversation with a woman who is both everything you fear and everything you want to be. Peachy-cheeked, with a crystal white smile and lips that are somehow perpetually glossed, Jina has been talking you through the upcoming event that Taehyung is showcasing for at the Ryu.
"I was really impressed - hold on," she huff a little through the strain of reaching across the desk for her file. You immediately get to your feet to help her out. Her peach cheeks are now pretty pink apples. She exhales a deep-rooted breath and plonks back into her own chair. Laughs at herself, and her inability to do even the simplest of tasks, then rests her hand adoringly over the incredibly large bump that protrudes from her stomach. Is appreciative as she says, "Thank you." Looks down to her bump, and laughs again. "Hurry up, now. Mummy has jobs to do."
The way Jina speaks to the little life that's growing inside of her makes you want to violently vomit. Not for disgust, or anything negative, but for the fact that you're terrified of a similar fate.
Well-put together, still in designer garments, Jina has her life together. Is the Lead Gallery Coordinator at the Ryu. Spent her twenties working her way up, only to land her spot at the top two weeks before she welcomed in her thirties. She's distinguished. Had worked damn hard to stay at the top, even when her assistant is consistently trying to fill the shoes she hasn't even taken off yet.
It's why she's still working, even when her due date is within touching distance. Will be damned if some jumped up twat that studied illustration at the expense of his wealthy parents, and has never actually produced an illustration worthy of any praise, ends up behind her desk. Perhaps she's jaded, and perhaps she's bitter that she never got an easy ride, but she did at least have passion - which is more than can be said for her assistant. The only reason she keeps him on is because his parents are benefactors of the gallery. Can't fire him, even if she wants to.
"Sorry," she smiles back up at you, then hums. Ponders. Pregnancy brain is not being kind to her these days. "Where was I?"
With a kind smile, you happily remind her. "You were saying you were impressed?"
"Ah, yes! I was. I am. With the both of you, actually. Kim Taehyung is producing art that actually entices people, which is a rarity these days. I'm surprised his portfolio wasn't passed onto me sooner."
Although when she considers her assistant, the surprise wanes.
"And you," she continues, then looks down to flick through the proposed show in the file you put together earlier that day. "You say you're just doing this part-time? As a favour?"
Nodding, you explain, "Taehyung's a friend, and this is my area of interest. Should have gone down this route straight after university, but you know what the industry is like."
With a pitiful smile, Jina nods. "No money in it unless you already have money."
It's no secret that the arts are a luxury for those who can afford them - not just the masterpieces themselves, but the time to indulge in them. Apprenticeships and internships pay poorly, so in order to get your foot on the ladder, you have to come from money. Have to be able to rely on parents, or aunts, or uncles to fund your living expenses while you live out your dreams.
Wasn't an option you'd had, so a compromise had been made in the form of the art cafe. It's minimum wage, but you do at least enjoy it and can pay the bills.
At such a point in her career where the money is good enough for her to never worry about finances, Jina's heart bleeds for you. From one creative to another, she wishes there was a way she could help.
"You've got everything I'd look for in an assistant," she tells you, and the compliment just serves to make you feel disappointed. Success has always been a goal of yours, and you regret not working harder towards it. The past year has taught you many things, but mainly it's reinforced the idea that you shouldn't spend time on things or people who don't enrich your heart.
And so you throw caution to the wind; chance a suggestion that you know is beyond your capabilities.
"Well, perhaps I could help out when you're on maternity leave?" You chance. Know that you don't have enough experience nor credentials to take on her role, but fuck it. What's the worst she could do? Say no? "Help keep things running smoothly?"
When Jina smiles, you know that rejection is coming your way - but at least you tried.
"No money in the job," she sighs. "The gallery director hasn't opened up a vacancy. My assistant is stepping up."
Even saying it out loud makes her blood boil - but she knows it's bad for the baby, so tries to cool it.
"I have a sneaky suspicion that they'll open up a vacancy in April. Maybe May. When it does, you'd be top of my list for recommendations," she offers. Knows that things are gonna fall apart without her there. The higher-ups won't realise what a fundamental error of judgement they've made until it's too late. "That if you'd be interested?"
You don't think you've ever been asked such a stupid question.
This is a lie.
You've spent time with the Dionysus boys. Have been asked a million questions than this one.
"Of course!" You enthuse. "I mean, I don't get me wrong, I love my job - but an opportunity like this would be... I don't even know," you laugh, unable to articulate yourself properly, so try simplicity. "Yes. Please. If that happens, please pass along my details."
She nods. Understands your excitement. Was in a very similar position, once upon a time. All it took was someone taking a chance on her. She'd like to do the same for you. Has seen your work ethic for an unpaid favour to a friend. Knows you wouldn't let her down.
"Now," she smiles, moving along the conversation as to not dwell on a situation that might never happen. "We're about a week out from the next show - has Taehyung finished the new piece? Any causes for concern?"
"Yes, and no," you assure her, even if it is a little lie.
Taehyung scrapped his piece last minute and has been in the studio ever since your birthday. Had a new wave of inspiration, apparently. Declared as such about twenty minutes after the knocking from Danbi's bedroom had eventually come to an end, so you dread to think of what this new piece could be like.
Still, you trust his creative process, so know that whatever he produces will be more than enough to satisfy the gallery execs.
The meeting runs smoothly; no hiccups to iron out. The subway ride back to the middle of town has to contemplate what life could be like had you met Taehyung earlier; if you could have a career to be proud of by now.
But there was no Taehyung without Jeongguk, and no Jeongguk without the devastating impact of Seokjin. Funny, how the entire time you were with Seokjin, he'd wished you had a better job. Lamented the minimum wage, and your irregular working hours. Would steer the direction away from what the pays the bills whenever you'd meet one of his friends, and they'd ask, 'what do you do for work?'. He'd never been proud, and so in turn, nor had you.
You wonder if he'd be proud now. It's bittersweet.
And as you arrive at Jeongguk's favourite cafe and spot him immediately - chin in his palm, a soft pout on his lips, papers scattered all over his table - you're the one who feels proud.
Seeing the ones you love chase their dreams is a special sort of pride. One that makes your heart swell. So much potential. So much hope.
Ordering up fresh drinks before you head over, there's a thick tension in the air. Jeongguk doesn't even realise you're here yet. Is too consumed with thoughts of you, like the idiot he is. Thoughts you, and his future, and how he doesn't know how to plan anything when he doesn't know what life will look like a year from now.
He clocks you as you're confirming the order with the barista. A hot flash of panic disrupts his body, but it cools just as quickly. Fucks with his body temperature regulation. Makes him feel all clammy and horrible despite the aircon in the cafe.
There's a smile on your lips, and Jeongguk finds one on his, too. There's a shine to his eyes that only glitters whenever you're nearby, and it's noticeable all the way from across the cafe.
Coffees in hand, clothes remarkably formal for a day off, Jeongguk narrows his eyes as you approach.
"What have you been up to?" he queries instead of greeting you properly, not caring for small-talk. Wants to know the big stuff. His brain has been cruel to him today. Hopes you can help remedy it slightly.
"Gallery," you simply say, taking the seat beside him.
There are four chairs at the table. Yoongi had been sitting opposite Jeongguk. You could have chosen to sit there, too.
He doesn't mention it.
"Everything going alright?" He asks, reaching over for his coffee with a small, appreciative smile. "Thanks."
"All good, I think," you say, sucking a little air between your teeth.
He cocks a brow. "You don't sound convinced."
With a bit of a defeated shrug, you purse your lips together. "I just..."
The way you trail off is all too familiar. Jeongguk's used to it. Has been a while since you struggled to find your words so badly.
"Big girl words," he teases softly, which earns him a small laugh from you.
"Fuck off," you smile, then shake your head to realign your thoughts. "No, I just... Sorry. Did it again. I just don't know how sustainable this all is, yanno?"
Jeongguk doesn't say a word. Knows that you aren't done formulating just yet - and when you sigh, before launching into a little ramble, he's proven right.
"I mean, I'm already a shift down this week to help with prep, and next week I've had to book two days off work. And like, honestly, it's fine," you stress. "I enjoy it so much, but long term? When Tae's shows get bigger and bigger? I just dunno, Gguk. Dunno."
You want it to be long-term. Never knew it was something you wanted until you realised maybe you can't have it. Seem unattainable now in a way that you knew before you started helping Taehyung out. The thing so wonderful about dreams is that you fool yourself into thinking they can come true. You neglect rational thinking.
Confronted with the restraints of the industry, it's hard to ignore. Hard to pretend like you could still have it, if you really want it. Things like that don't happen for people like you.
"Well just wait until I get the restaurant going," he smiles, knowing he doesn't have a solution for you - but that he does have the ability to talk about the future with you in a way that doesn't feel all that terrifying. "When I'm super successful and have queues out the door, I'll hire you. Will pay you above minimum wage and let you work with Tae on the side."
"Oh yeah?" You grin, enthused by the childlike excitement in his sparkly eyes. "Gonna be a big hot shot restaurant owner?"
"I'll have you know, I'll be the CEO," he nods his head smugly.
"Oh, that's sexy," you tell him.
"I know."
You hum a little and then decide that a little flirt is okay. "Would be kinda hot, fucking the boss, wouldn't it?"
He raises a brow. Swipes his tongue along his bottom lip, wetting his lip ring as he toys with it. "Would be a HR nightmare."
"Would give me a reason to call you Sir."
"Don't," he smiles, eyes closing, teeth showing. Sweetness encapsulates him despite the stickiness of the scenario that's playing out inside his head right now. Shakes his head. Slowly opens his eyes to find you again. Laughs. "You're fuckin' trouble, Byeol."
"S'why you like me."
"True," he admits rather shamelessly. Doesn't fancy denying it today. Not to himself. Not to you. Not to the world around him.
The air between you gets thinner. Feels like you can only keep breathing if you keep your eyes on one another. Up, and up you go into the atmosphere. Any higher, and you'll be in the fucking stars.
"I hate to ask..." Jeongguk murmurs and you immediately feel your floating soul crash back down to earth. The stars are off-limits today. Your feet must remain firmly on the ground.
"Then don't," you say sharply, not wanting the conversation to go in the direction you know he's steering it in.
"Byeol," he simply reprimands, knowing that it's a conversation that needs to be had. "You've not given me any updates."
"'Cause there's been nothing to report back," you say, as if it's no big deal; as if you haven't spent every waking moment thinking about it. As if your daydreams aren't getting more and more concerning. "I've skipped a month. That's all. It's not that uncommon."
"Well, according to WebMD, apparently some women get periods even when they are pregnant - like, certified, tested, proven true pregnant," Jeongguk states, his late-night research coming to the forefront of his mind. "That's not supposed to happen. Just like you're not supposed to miss your periods when you're not pregnant-"
"Gguk," you plead. "It's not that linear. All sorts of things affect periods."
"I know," he replies, and bless his heart, he really does think he knows. "Stress, eating habits, exercise, medical issues - I've read, like, 6 articles about PCOS in the last 24 hours. Didn't even know what it was last week."
You're fond as you smile over at him. "Why have you been reading PCOS articles?"
" Because ," he stresses, but gives no immediate follow up. Looks over to you with pleading eyes, like a puppy dog waiting for scraps. "Look B, I don't know what's going on. You won't tell me what's going on. The best I can do is try and understand."
"I've told you, Gguk. It's fine. Please. Just trust me."
It's a naive ask, for him to trust you, when you don't even trust yourself.
"Will you please just take a test?" He asks. "The longer it takes, the less options you'll have. We'll have."
You know he's right. Know that there's a test waiting in your bedroom, and that you've spent hours looking at because you're terrified of a result. A positive result, that is.
You won't admit to the way that the idea of a negative result makes you feel. Not to Jeongguk, nor to yourself. It's not what you want. You know that it wouldn't fit into your life. You know that the idea of being in Jina's position would wreck any goals or plans for your life.
And then you're feeling defensive. Pressured. Overwhelmed.
"Look, I said it's fine," you insist, trying to reassure not only him, but yourself too. "I know my body. It just does this sometimes. If anything, I'm probably less fertile than I should be."
"Yeah, but you don't know that-"
"And you don't know that I'm not."
"B, this affects us both," Jeongguk says, his patience waning, tone firming. He's right.
"I know that!" You snap back, 'cause it feels like he's backing you into a corner. "You think I'm not aware? Gguk, if I am-" you refuse to say the word, then quieten your voice. Look around. Get a little closer. "If I am , then I'm the one who has to deal with it. I'm the one who has to live with it. I'm the one who has to experience it."
"Oh what, so suddenly I play no part in this?" He argues right back, but keeps his voice quiet. Mirrors you. Is right there in the corner with you. If this is a boxing match, then he's not your opponent; he's the coach giving you water in the break and patching you up. There's no need to see him as the enemy. "I'm not just some random fucking guy, B. I'm not about to jump ship."
"Okay, hypothetical," you say, encouraging him to use his imagination a little. Try and see things how you see them. "It's positive. I don't want it, you do. Then what? What do we do?"
He's silent for a moment. Looks a little defeated as he shrugs. Doesn't look at you. "We'd get rid."
And even though it's what you think is the correct answer - putting priority on the carrier of the child - it still makes you a little sad. There are layers to such a decision. It's not straightforward. The complexities are beyond what you're capable of considering. There is no 'correct' answer. There are just choices; the one that you take, and the ones that you don't.
It's a curse how vivid your imagination can be; how you can imagine the rough skin by the tips of his fingers as he'd hold your hand in the waiting room, the look in his eyes as you turn to steal a glance at him before going through a pair of double doors that would ultimately change the outcome of your future, and the sterile scent of a medical facility that you'd really rather never visit.
You can picture his smile; pretty but ever so weak. Gorgeous little lies of 'it's okay' wrapped up with bows that could have maybe one day been tied in a child's hair instead.
Pull yourself together, you scold yourself. You don't even want a kid!
"If I were to get rid of it, while you wanted it... Gguk, you would resent me for what I took from you until the day you died," you say solemnly.
The gravity of it all is setting in. A positive result would ruin your lives regardless of whichever option you choose.
The pair of you have been gambling, and it seems like your luck is out.
"I wouldn't," Jeongguk frowns.
"How do you know?"
"Well how can you be certain that I would?" he counters. Is desperately trying see your point of view, but it's obscured by his own opinion on the matter. "Look, none of this is worth us getting worked up about until we know what the fuck we're dealing with. You might not even be pregnant."
He's right. You know he's right. The word makes your stomach lurch regardless.
So you nod, but plead, "Just give me a little time. Please."
He agrees. Knows that you do at least have a little more time before any certain decisions would need to be made. Walks you home. Tells you to keep him updated.
But then one day turns into two, then three, then four - and before you know it, you're ignoring one another, trying to pretend like all of this isn't happening; as if nothing has changed, and as if you haven't potentially fucked it all up just 'cause you couldn't stop messing about.
It's laughable, really. Your insatiable need to fuck one another has become its own form of birth control. Jeongguk isn't even waking up hard these days. Too stressed. No worry of fucking, now. Dick seems to be broken.
In all reality, he knows that it's nothing to do with his cock. He's not waking up hard, 'cause there's a lack of blood flow. Heart isn't pumping it like it normally does. Goes with the territory of not having you around.
But if he acknowledges that, he acknowledges everything he stands to lose before he's even had a chance to have it. Have you .
It's what he's thinking of now - cock limp, scowl hard - the night before Taehyung's art show. It's been five days. You've not kept him updated. He's not asked for updates.
You've both been pathetic - but he's attributing it to you. Thinks you're deliberately being childish so that he won't think having a kid is a good idea - as if he even wants them right now.
Sitting on the couches of Taehyung's studio space, the usual suspects are up to nothing much. Just having a few drinks the night before the show. It's a bit of ritual - nothing set in stone, just kind of what happens. The easing of Taehyung's nerves means he always wants to indulge.
Stewing in the corner like a little parasite, Jeongguk's face of thunder hasn't eased all evening. He never gives a straight answer when he's asked about these little moods of his, so no one has bothered to press too hard. He is at least in attendance - which is more than can be said for you.
"It really doesn't matter," Taehyung smiles, unphased by Jeongguk, stroking Danbi's back as she scrolls through her phone, looking for outfit inspiration.
"Yeah, no offence Danbi, but everyone's gonna be looking at the art," Jimin mumbles through a mouthful of overpriced breadsticks. "No one is gonna care what you wear."
Rolling her eyes, Danbi doesn't care for his opinion. "So? I want people to look at me, which is why my outfit needs to good."
Still stroking her back, Taehyung is so incredibly fond of her unwavering self-assured place in the world. "People will be looking at you," he supports her. "What's DB wearing?"
Flicking through to your message thread, which had ended earlier that afternoon with a very blatant bullshit excuse for your lack of attendance, Danbi scrolls up to find the picture you'd sent her earlier that day.
"Oh, it's nice," Taehyung downplays it. Knows exactly why Danbi is desperate to find something showstopping. Will never let her be aware of this, though. What he does do, is make sure it reaches the right people. "She shown you, Gguk?"
The grunt that Jeongguk makes is barely audible. If there's one thing he doesn't want to see right now, it's you. Especially you looking all fancy and shit.
He's still annoyed. You haven't spoken to him since your fight other than to send him dumb instagram reels. Rabbits hopping about. Shit like that. He smiles every damn time and it only serves to piss him off even more.
But, like the true nuisance she is, Danbi forwards the picture through to Jeongguk. She hasn't heard directly from you that you're fighting with Jeongguk, but anyone who has spent time with the both of you in the last few days will be able to figure it out.
Jeongguk knows better than to click through on the notification. Knows that if you wanted him to know what you're wearing, you would have shown him.
But he misses you.
Wants to see you, even if he knows it will only serve to annoy him even more.
He's proven right.
Standing in front of your mirror - the one used for your first selfie with the bird necklace on Christmas Eve, and also used for your own sadistic pleasure on that very first evening Jeongguk learned what it felt like to be yours - you're in a black dress.
Satin, he thinks. Something silky. It's short, like your dresses so often are, cutting off midway down your thighs. Fitted. Sweetheart neckline that blooms over the top of your chest, with sleeves that follow this same structured line. Shoulders fully exposed, there is a small tickle of satisfaction when Jeongguk notices your bird sitting prettily in place, right where it should be.
Even if you are annoyed, like he knows you are, you're keeping him close. It's more than can be said for last time. You've no intention of pushing him away or so it would seem. He takes comfort in this, a self-indulgent smile on his lips - until he realises and flattens them once more.
"S'fine," he just says as he locks his phone, as if his heart isn't beating all irregularly. "I'm sure she'll look nice."
Danbi glances over to Taehyung, who just rolls his eyes, and encourages her to show him more of her own options.
Jeongguk pretends to scroll through his phone. Is really just looking at that picture of you again. Hates the way it makes him feel. All fuzzy and out of sync. Perfectly safe and yet terrified all in the same fleeting moment.
Has him thinking about what he should wear, too, even if the other boys are telling Danbi that it really doesn't matter.
You look so well put together, he thinks. So intentionally gorgeous. He would say unintentionally , and knows you'd look just as gorgeous in one of his old shirts, but is well aware that you've put effort in. It should be appreciated.
It's decided - at two-thirty in the morning, all alone by himself, contents of his wardrobe piled onto the floor - that Jeongguk will also be wearing all black.
He will match you. It will be intentional. He will hope you notice.
'Cause even if he is a little pissed off with you, it doesn't matter. Had grown up with parents who'd bicker, but would always say 'there's no one else I'd rather argue with.'
He thinks the same could be said for the pair of you.
If your worst fears are confirmed, and you're forever tied to him, then it's something you'll need to learn to navigate. Neither of you are perfect, but neither of you are pretending to be. You're showing him exactly who you are by showing him nothing at all, right now.
And he adores you all the fucking same.
Jeongguk decides on black slacks, and will pair them with a thick belt. A satin shirt will be tucked in, unbuttoned just enough for a little bit of his chest to show. Nothing too indecent. Just wants to match your neckline.
The jacket he's chosen is red. Hopes it'll dare you to look at him, and prevent you from ever looking away. He's being bold, 'cause he stupidly thinks he needs to be, as if you won't be searching for solace in the form of him all night.
He also thinks he needs to consider the kind of man you want . The kind you need . You seem to go for the prim types. The proper. Well-dressed, well-groomed. He's got the outfit sorted. Knows he's being a little risky with the lack of a top button and tie, but he also knows he looks good - so fuck it.
Which is also what he says to his barber on the morning of the show.
"You've been growing it out for a while," she hums. Only re-permed it a couple of weeks ago. Hadn't been expecting him to come for a walk-in appointment so soon.
He shrugs. "Fuck it. It's just hair. It'll grow back."
She laughs, and tells him that he's right - but double-checks before she goes in with the clippers. He's not had anything so close to the scalp in about a year. Started growing it out around the same time you started showing up to the bar.
He braces himself. Grits his teeth. Don't let fear get the better of you.
"I'm sure."
Time stands still within the walls of the Ryu. Moments of life - fleeting expressions of biased emotions - are preserved for voyeuristic viewing pleasure. You're a guilty participant. Salivate over the mixed media, and equally mixed messages. Have a desire to understand. To decipher. To know.
The walls are dark. Slate grey when the floodlights are on, they look black under the diffused bulbs that focus solely on the works.
'Unplugged: The Lonely Hearts of the Digital Age' reads the exhibition branding on the front of the paper guide in your hand. There's an evocative nature to the pieces; an exploration of intimacy and isolation in the modern landscape of smartphones and high-speed internet.
"Oh, entirely," you smile pleasantly at the gentleman twice your age, who had come to stand beside you while you had been observing some of the work. He's been asking your thoughts, and you've been bullshitting spectacularly. "In a world where we're more connected than ever before, there somehow seems to be this... disconnect . A real lack of interpersonal relationships that stand the test of time."
He nods, half-moon glasses resting across the bridge of his short nose. "Too easy these days. Dating apps, and whatnot."
You cast your eyes down to the fingers he has wrapped around a champagne flute. He's without a ring. You wonder if he's a victim to them, too.
"The grass is greener mentality," you agree. Know all too well what it's like to be on the receiving end of such a dilemma. "Always searching for something... more."
A small chuckle emits from his thin lips as he continues to agree.
One of the serving staff, no older than a high school senior, offers their tray of champagne in your direction, but you decline. It's unusual of you - but it's no secret you've not been feeling exactly 'usual' lately.
From across the room, Jeongguk glances in your direction as you shake your hand and head, a polite smile on your lips as you refuse a drink. Your eyes don't flash to his, but he doesn't need them to.
When your gaze falls back to the artwork in front of you, he can easily see your perplexion.
He also notices how your skin doesn't sparkle like it usually does beneath gallery lights. A tight frown forms on his face to match yours.
The paintings you're looking at aren't Taehyung's. Jeongguk doesn't know the artist. Oil, he assumes from this distance. Hyperrealism. Enlarged. A matching pair with stark differences.
The first, to the left, is dark. Navy blues and deep purples depict the foils of condom wrappers, each with a name and date scrawled into them. They're scattered atop what looks like a legal document.
He can't work out the words from where he is. Doesn't realise they're divorce papers.
None of the wrappers match the name of the document, yet all of the wrappers are dated during the duration of the marriage.
On the right hand side, the other painting is clearly part of the same collection. A packet of oral contraception. 28 days worth. Includes the placebo days. Like the condoms, each empty window of the contraception has a name. Some repeating. Some not. There are no names written during the placebo week.
It begs the question; is the taker of the contraception just using the men when it's convenient for her? Or are they just using her when it's convenient for them, and leaving her in the dust when her body is unavailable?
You're not sure which scenario makes you sadder. Reminds you of this time last year. Reminds you of Seokjin. Reminds you of the people that you used to forget about him on the lonely nights.
If you were to think about your own pills, and the names that would inscribed, you know you'd have packet after packet with only one name. Everyday of the week. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, every night. Over the placebo days, too.
Not because Jeongguk has been fucking you all day every day - although sometimes it does feel like that. No. It's not that all.
Instead, it would be because he gives you the intimacy you need to make those pills worth it. He doesn't have to constantly be in bed with you. Quite often isn't. It's just that you'll keep taking those pills 'cause you always want to be available for him in any capacity you can be. Those pills are his just as much as they are yours.
And you hate it.
Hate that you feel this way. Hate that indulging in such intimacy with the person you hold closest has resulted in such a clusterfuck of emotions. Hate that he isn't beside you right now, deciphering the names and making up ridiculous stories about the fictional people in front of you. Hate that when you glance over to his direction, you find him engaged in conversation with a group of people you consider friends, only to notice that Hayun is there, too.
Your arms fold a little tighter into your chest as your eyes fall back on the painting. You're alone, now, the man who had been chatting with you also now distracted by associates.
"Hey," a soft, feminine voice sounds next to you. Seoyeon. Hair loose, but with pretty little plaits running through it, she's wearing white trousers and a fitted blazer. Looks demure as ever. "You okay?"
A simple question that calls for a simple answer - yet it feels all rather complex.
You nod. Say you are. Return the question. She returns your answer.
"Gosh, that's depressing," she says of the artwork, and it makes you laugh. She's not wrong.
"Makes you feel something, at least," you offer, to which she hums in agreement.
"I suppose - but I was feeling perfectly happy before I saw it," she giggles, nudging your shoulder, seemingly aware of your less-than-stellar mood. "Watcha doing over here all alone?"
It's a great question. Fantastic question. Devastating answer.
Oh, so I've been fucking Jeongguk for months and he's convinced himself that I'm carrying his spawn and now he's mad at me because I haven't done the test to confirm nor deny. Oh why? Why I haven't done it? 'Cause it'll change the trajectory of my whole entire life and I'm fucking terrified. And I skip periods all the time. No biggie.
Now isn't the time for such honesties, though.
"Just wanted to read all the names," you say, nodding towards the art.
"See any you recognise?"
"Well, there is a Jimin on the first Wednesday," you grin.
"Why am I not surprised," Seoyeon laughs. "Our very own Casanova. Oh - speak of the devil!"
"Devil?" Jimin questions as he approaches you both with fresh champagne flutes in either hand. "Me? Please. You both know I'm an angel."
The way you incredulously both raise your eyebrows at him, bemused smirks on your faces, would suggest that no, you don't 'know' he's an angel.
"Oh, piss off," he laughs, standing between you both, offering you the champagne flutes. When you decline, he's curious. "Oh? Dry night?"
Nodding, you decide that you'll give as few answers as possible when it comes to your lack of drinking - not that it matters, given how much you've abused your body with star fuckers in recent weeks. Any damage is already, inevitably done.
"One of us needs to be the sensible one," you joke, and ignore the burning gaze you can feel from across the room.
His stare is sweltering, like early May heat after a freezing spring, regardless of the cool air that's currently circulating around the room.
It's stuffy, the way his eyes follow you. Suffocating.
And yet you love the warmth. Want evidence of him on your skin like the burn of a summer sun.
Turning your head as Seoyeon and Jimin natter, you're surprised to find his shamelessly dark eyes still on you.
Hair pushed back, he's wearing it shorter than usual. It takes you a moment to realise it's been cut. You think a part of you dies from such a devastating loss - but it's revitalised within the same millisecond. It's criminal how handsome he looks. How mature he seems. Jaw tense, bone structure highlighted, he's a vision. Heaven. Ethereal.
Matching your all black attire, there's one keen difference. One that throws you off entirely: his jacket. It's one you've never seen before. Red. A kaleidoscope of different tones. Dappled, they bleed into one another. You can tell it's expensive. Tell it's being worn with a purpose.
It's unusual for him, and yet he holds a beauty that can only be compared to that of Venus herself. The jacket was made for him.
But you don't like the idea that maybe actually it was made for him, by the only seamstress you know. See no other reason for him to own such an item.
Stupidly, it upsets you how good red looks on him. Pisses you off.
Across the circle of people he stands with is the seamstress herself.
Just as you match him with your silky black dress, she matches him with her scarlet nails and deep ruby cocktail number. Gorgeous in the way that her hair effortlessly waves over her shoulders, she pays your judgemental eyes no notice.
They look good together. Like they belong. A good girl. Upper class. Bad boy. Her bit of 'rough'. Jeongguk likes a good Romeo and Juliet type story. You're sure he loves the romanticisation of their coupling.
So caught up in your own head, you almost miss the way Jimin deliberately chooses to include you in on the conversation once more. Just asks your opinion on the piece, then asks if you know the artist. He wants to check that he's not the Jimin scrawled into the pill packet.
"I'll find out," you promise him - but you're certain he's not. Park Jimin isn't exactly the most unique of names, but you don't want to hurt his ego.
"Legend," he grins, before roping Namjoon in for his opinion on whether or not it's his name.
"It's nothing to be proud of," Namjoon assure him. "If it's you, you're being branded as a hit it and quit it kinda guy. You're only on there once. Most of them are on their a few times. You not good enough for round two?"
Scoffing, Jimin looks to you for defence.
You just smile. Make your excuses and leave. Bless him.
As beautiful as the show is, there's a sadness to it. It revives unpleasant memories. Provokes parts of your brain that have been well trained to not make a noise.
Schmoozing with some of the higher ups from Shilla finances, you're going for the hard sell. Telling them all about Taehyung, and how he's hotly tipped to be one of the most successful artists of this generation.
It's all bullshit, of course, but someone has to have that title. Why shouldn't it be him?
"He certainly does have a gift," one of the older men acknowledges. His name evades you now, but you remember him from networking events with Seokjin. Would always treat the serving staff with kindness, which is more than could be said for most of them. It's the only reason you're entertaining the conversation - the other men you recognise from those events have been avoided by you at all costs.
You're about to call Taehyung over, when the looming intrusion of a bowing gentleman makes itself known in your personal space. It's his presence you notice first. Aftershave second. Stoic, burly voice third.
"Director Choi," he interjects from behind you. "It's good to see you here."
Smiling, with just as much kindness as he shows to everyone, Choi nods back. "Kim Seokjin! I didn't realise you'd be here tonight."
"Ah, well," Seokjin smiles. You can hear it in his tone, even if you daren't turn to face him. Your skin suddenly chills as his large hands rest over the tops of your bare shoulders. "Was back in town, and couldn't miss it. You're speaking with the city's best curator."
The way he squeezes your shoulders, skin on skin, makes you want to be sick. It's as if you've had far too much of the champagne you've been turning down all evening - but your stomach is empty. All you'd be able to do is gag.
Yet your body is entirely frozen.
And neither of the men care enough to notice.
"It's quite the collection," Choi nods, but doesn't keep his focus on you. Like the serving staff, he's always polite to you, but will always see you as a second-class citizen. You're not a man. He doesn't respect you. As human? Yes, he does. But as a person? Why would he waste his time if he can't profit off of you? "Tell me Seokjin, how have you been? I hear your department is up by 3.7% this week?"
The conversation around you is stuffy, like that sticky summer heat clinging to your skin once more. It's unpleasant, but inescapable. There's nothing you can do, except let it ruin you.
One breath in; through the nose. One breath out; through the mouth.
Repeat.
One breath in; through the nose. One breath out; through the mouth.
There's a squeeze of Seokjin's hands; a silent instruction to not move your shoulders so much.
Half a breath in. Half a breath out.
You've an inability to focus on anything other than basic survival.
In the times you've seen Seokjin since the breakup, he's always been so good at acting as if it never happened. He touches you just the same. Speaks with just as much fondness that always made you think you actually meant something to him.
For so long, you wished he would be like that with you in public. Would proudly claim you as his own.
But now that he is, all you want is for him to look at you with remorse. Regret.
Sort of like Jeongguk is doing, as he spots you from across the room. Was just doing his quarter-of-an-hourly checks to make sure you're still okay - even if he is annoyed with you. Thinks that anyone who has ever spent even a smidgeon of time with you should know that the look in your eyes is far from okay.
They're downcast. To the floor. Your nostrils flare ever so gently as you inhale. Mouth forms a delicate pout as you exhale. Breathing exercises. He recognises them instantly. They're the same ones Jeongguk does when he's frustrated and trying his damn hardest to not break another display case.
It's been working lately. Not a permanent fix, no, but it's been going okay. Has finally been reading one of Namjoon's self-help books that's been on his bedside table for months. Fills the time that should be spent on you doing that, instead.
But Jeongguk thinks all of his hard work might just go down the fucking drain when he realises what's happening. When he notices exactly who has a possessive grip on you. When, from across the room, he hears Seokjin laughing at some vapid joke that he knows mustn't be even remotely funny.
"Hey, Dan," he calls over to your best friend, breaking her from her conversation with Taehyung. When she looks at Jeongguk, she follows the direction in which he nods.
She gasps. Drops her hold on Taehyung's forearm, and doesn't hesitate to beeline straight for you.
Jeongguk knows it should have been him - but he also knows you're stubborn. Knows you might have chosen to stay put just to spite him. Also knows that stress if bad for the body. Says so in another one of those webMD tabs open on his phone. You're stressed enough as it is. Don't need him causing a scene. Danbi is what you need right now.
Not him.
But he needs air - so heads out towards the stairwell and just keeps on going up. Up and up, until there's nowhere left to go. Closer and closer to the stars. Further and further away from his very own.
Elbows resting on the wall of the rooftop, Jeongguk lets a deep-rooted sigh exhale from his body. Lungs heavy in his chest, he's in need of respite - yet even that seems like an unattainable goal these days.
He wishes to be back in Busan; where the sun shines and so do you.
The darkness of the city envelopes him, now, much like it obscures his heart. Confuses it. Tells him all sorts of lies. She loves you. She loves you not. She loves you. She loves you not. He's not sure what's the truth, anymore.
He's not plucked at daisy petals since he was a kid, but he does occasionally pull glitter from his skin. That's when the rhyme repeats. That's how he knows he only has space in his heart for you.
And so when the bustling sound of the city is interrupted by a voice that isn't yours, he frowns.
"Watcha doing up here, buddy?"
The roll of Jeongguk's eyes is so damn weighted he's surprised it doesn't sound like stones are being turned. Of all the people he wants to be alone with right now, Hayun would be towards the bottom of the list. Likely beaten only by your shitbag of an ex.
"Needed some air," he lies. Doesn't look at her as she takes the space beside him, then shuffles over a little. Doesn't wanna touch her. The intrusion of her perfume is enough to make him feel sick. Has done ever since she approached him in the courtyard of Dionysus.
"Could have gone for a smoke with Tae," she says all rather pleasantly.
Jeongguk is well aware of this. Truth be told, he could do with a cigarette. Could do with many things right now.
Could do with a few shots, or even a high. MDMA, maybe. Something that'll have him thinking death is inevitable before he manages to reach his come up. Could spend the whole night pinging. Wouldn't have to think about you, or your ex, or the fact his heart already feels like it's got a little ecstasy running through it these days.
But you're not drinking, and so Jeongguk isn't smoking. Is finally actually trying to make some good decisions for a change, to atone for all of his questionable ones.
He shakes his head. Bunches his face up ever so slightly. Is dismissive as he simply says, "Didn't fancy it."
Just like he doesn't fancy engaging in this conversation.
She nods, pretending to care. Fabricating a persona that matches how awfully pretty she is. "You don't seem like yourself."
Mentally, Jeongguk sneers. Physically, he remains unchanged. Statuesque.
"You've been saying that ever since you came back," he eventually sighs. Looks over to her. Doesn't mean to be so cold, but frankly no longer has the patience. "You can't fuck people over and expect them to welcome you back with open arms. Doesn't work like that, Yun."
Hayun's laugh is parasitic. Gets under his skin. Crawls about. Makes him feel sick. His body rejects it.
"She's inside your head," is all she says. "Never used to be like this before she came around."
In the far distance, a police siren sounds. It's swallowed up by the fumes of rattling exhaust pipes and the posing arrival of planes from foreign lands. In a city that never rests, Jeongguk thinks it mad that Hayun expected him to remain exactly as he was.
Doesn't even register what she says about you. Pays it no attention.
"I don't wanna keep doing this, Hayun," Jeongguk says quietly.
It's strange, because he knows it's the 'right' thing to do, but it still doesn't feel entirely correct.
Years of knowing her - of loving her - have been reduced to nothing but resentment and wasted time. Everything he experienced with her equates to emptiness. The good - of which there was plenty - and the bad - of which there was marginally more.
"What do you mean?" she asks, as if she doesn't already know.
"I don't wanna pretend like we're still friends," he simply states. "It's doing nobody any favours."
It's something he should have said a long time ago. Something he's known for far longer than he's wanted to admit. Something Jimin has been telling him for years.
"Gguk," she tries, and reaches out for his hand - but Jeongguk tears it away from her.
"No," he reaffirms. Is setting boundaries. Is being as firm with her as he wishes you'd be with Seokjin. He keeps his voice measured. Sensible. Wastes no more energy than is needed. "I'll be perfectly cordial with you, but I'm not gonna act like we're anything more than strangers. Said it yourself, you don't know who I am these days. Please stop trying to find whoever you think I used to be."
"So I guess the marriage pact is vetoed?" She tries to joke. Thinks that making light of the situation will ease things. Make them less awkward.
He doesn't dignify her with a direct response to that. Instead, he stands a little straighter. Taps his ringed fingers against the wall so that a clunky pat sounds against the urethane coating that covers the entire roof area. Turns to face her. Looks down upon her. "I'm asking you nicely, Hayun - but if I have to ask again, I won't be."
There's nothing she can say to reel him back in. Not anymore. Not like she used to. She knows this. Hates this.
But one thing Hayun refuses to ever do is embarrass herself. Not for a man. Especially not for one she didn't even want that badly in the first place.
That's exactly the issue at hand, though. He was always the one chasing her. Always. Must have worn through a hundred pairs of shoes in pursuit of her - but he's stopped running now, and she can't quite wrap her head around it.
"Okay," she simply says. Smiles. It's insincere. Jeongguk doesn't realise this, 'cause it looks like every other fuckin' smile she's ever cast his way. "Look, emotions are high. I won't take this to heart. Whenever you're ready, you know where to find me."
Glancing over to the door, Hayun's ruby-red lips falter. Her smile almost cracks, but she holds herself well.
"Oh, goodie," Hayun hums. "Suppose I should leave you to it."
Jeongguk doesn't follow her gaze. Knows that there's only one person who could evoke such a reaction - and right now, he's annoyed with you, too.
He does, at least, say, "I suppose you should."
It's not until Hayun begins to strut away that Jeongguk turns to the door. Not to watch her walk away, no.
To watch you walk towards him, instead - but you don't.
You stay leant against the door frame. There's a sultry smile on your lips, and he's surprised to see they move a little as Hayun approaches. He can't hear you, but he knows your lips almost better than he knows his own. Can work out exactly what you're saying.
Lipstick's a little smudged.
Jeongguk knows that it absolutely is not - but the way Hayun's hand lifts to her lips suggests that she doesn't know this.
It's evident you're trying to evoke some sort of insecurity in her. Seems to have worked. Also seems to be incredibly mean-spirited - but he's not gonna hold it against you. Knows that it's the least Hayun deserves. It's not like he was exactly kind to Seokjin upon meeting him, either.
The sounds of the city echo out around you as a small breeze carries the scent of the trees that are finally starting to rebloom after a harsh winter. There's hope to be found in the darkness of this night. The promise of rebirth.
Or at least there is, until you begin to make excuses to leave.
"Just came up for some air," you explain, not looking to engage in conversation with him. If anything, you just feel like you're losing your breath.
He nods. Purses his lips. Turns away from you. Hopes you'll come to join him.
There's a you-sized spot right beside him. Hayun had tried forcing her way in, but the fit just wasn't right.
His broad shoulders widen as his elbows rest back upon the wall, body silhouetted in the skyline. Something about him today feels so new. So different. Maybe it's just the hair - but hair holds history. You feel like he's cut you out of his. Is starting afresh, maybe.
Whatever the case, he's clearly not concerned in inviting you into his current narrative. Is quite literally blocking you out.
You had arrived to find him locked in conversation with Hayun. Engaged. He'd watched her walk away, and the moment she was gone, couldn't stand the sight of you, or so it seems.
And so as Jeongguk waits - wishes - for you to walk towards him and slink your arm around his waist, you decide to cut your losses. Hadn't even come up to the roof to see him. Had been hoping to be alone after the whole Seokjin debacle.
It's not like you hadn't known Seokjin would be in attendance tonight.
He had messaged you to confirm the date. You just hadn't expected him to waltz in like a proud partner, parading you around in front of his colleagues.
So yeah, you had been shocked. Had been unable to respond in a way that accurately conveyed how you felt. Had panicked. Had cried in the storage room that Danbi had dragged you into while she gave you a pep talk and wiped away your stray tears, before suggesting you get some air.
You wonder if perhaps she knew Jeongguk would be here. Seems likely, knowing her.
Your lip trembles as you go to speak, unspoken words vibrating between them. There's no sound. Just the city. The cars, and the revellers from a bar a few blocks down. Jazz music echoing up the stairs to the rooftop, too.
And then there's Jeongguk's voice. Quiet. Controlled. Commanding.
"The first bird," he says. Looks down as he does so. Builds his confidence, then turns around to look at you. Is displeased to see your body facing away from him now, about to walk away - as if you hadn't instantly turned your head to look at him. "The first one. We went to the water park. Some guy looked at you in a way you didn't like, and you went straight on over and told him to stop being a perv. Remember?"
Of course you do.
But you say nothing. Do nothing. Just turn your body. Let him know you're listening. He continues.
"You know your limits, B. You know your boundaries."
You nod, now. Still stay silent.
Jeongguk's jaw grates, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. You're avoiding his confrontation, just like you've been avoiding all talks of anything serious since that day at the cafe.
And it's pissing him off.
"So why do you let him overstep them?" Jeongguk continues - and finally, this accusation gets a rise from you.
"I don't let him do anything," you scoff - and then you accuse. "You're the one I've just found hiding up on the rooftop with your ex. What about those boundaries, huh?"
Jeongguk rolls his eyes. Turns away from you. Looks out over the city, and wishes it would swallow him whole. "You've got no fuckin' idea, B. No idea."
"So then tell me!" You say, as if it's as easy as reciting your ABC's. "I'm not a mind reader-"
"And nor am I!" He says sternly, but doesn't raise his voice any higher than yours. "You've spent half the week ignoring me, only for you to barely even look at me now. You're not even wearing any glitter -"
"Why does that even matter?" You interrupt, unsure exactly of what he's trying to say.
Is the lack of glitter intentional? Yes.
Is it for the reasons he assumes? Probably not.
"'Cause we both know he fuckin' hates it," he snaps, decidedly far more pissed off now that he's speaking his thoughts into existence. "We both know you didn't wear it because of him in the past. So for you to show up with no glitter? Let him leech all over you? After he sent you all those fucking roses, and you won't fucking talk to me? Tell me what I'm supposed to think, huh?"
"Why does it even matter to you?" You fight back. It takes two to tango, and he seems to know the steps pretty fucking well. "You've been ignoring me too-"
"It matters to me because you might be fucking pregnant, B!"
Silence shatters around you both. Steals any words that could be said in the wake of such a declaration.
You roll your eyes. Do a fantastic job at pretending as if you don't feel like your world is caving in on itself.
"No, you don't get to treat me like I'm being irrational when you've been drinking cranberry juice all evening," he scathes, the frustrated gestures of his hands letting you know just how upset he is - and rightly so. "You don't get to act like you've not been thinking about it too."
"We don't even know if I'm pregnant-"
"And who's fault is that?!
"Gguk-"
"No, you're being such an asshole about this, B. This doesn't affect just you. This affects me too, okay?
Shaking his head, Jeongguk turns away from you. The way you're behaving is so unlike you, or so he thought. Maybe he didn't know you as well as he thought. Maybe he did get wrapped up in fallacies of you; in the what if.
"I fucking defended you," he says quietly. Isn't even sure if you can hear him. Doesn't care. Shakes his head and lets it dip between his disappointed shoulders. You'd be forgiven for think he was giving his next words careful thought. In all reality, he just starts ranting. "When he was at the tennis club, and was chatting shit, I defended you. Me . And yet you're more concerned with keeping up appearances for him ."
"You did what ?"
Now that he's started, Jeongguk can't stop. Not when he turns around. Not when he looks at you. Not when he starts to walk towards you.
"I insinuated we were together to get him to shut the fuck up," Jeongguk scoffs, thinking about his former self. Is embarrassed, now. Is letting his frustrations show because fuck it . He's hurting . Feels like a deer bleeding out on the side of a road, left to rot by some asshole driver who rammed straight into him at a hundred miles per hour. "So he's out here, showing up to your event, putting moves on you - even though he thinks you're with someone else - and you're fucking giving him the green light. Real fuckin' nice of him. A stand up guy. Respect must be his middle name. You really know how to pick 'em, B."
"Literally, how was I supposed to know any of that?!" You ask, eyes wide, brows furrowed. These new revelations are just as devastating as they are infuriating. All you can do is repeat a previous sentiment. "I'm not a fucking mind reader!"
But Jeongguk's irate now. Comical, almost, in how he downplays his anger.
"Oh, well, forgive me for assuming that you wouldn't bend to your exes every fucking whim!" He exclaims, a sarcastic smile on his face that snaps to a scowl within an instant. "I didn't think it was important because I thought you were beyond that point-"
"You're being cruel," you interrupt him, because he is. He knows how hard you've worked. Has been with you every step of the way - but this is how he views you?
"Me?" He laughs. It's cold.
"Yes," you say. "You."
"Nah." He shakes his head. Casts his eyes to the floor, 'cause looking at you like this only makes him feel even more frustrated with the current state of affairs. "Cruel is what Seokjin's doing right now - but you're giving him a free pass."
"I'm not. I don't want him leeching all over me," you say quietly, ashamed, turning away from him as you walk across the roof. Crouching, you bundle yourself up protectively, as if it'll make a difference. As if you can shield yourself from your friendship with Jeongguk as it comes crashing down on you both.
The only thing that makes any fucking sense to either of you right now is that you'd do it all again.
He'd ruin the friendship a million times over.
Not because he doesn't care, or because he's okay with losing you. Quite the opposite.
He'd ruin the friendship because - fuck it - that isn't what this is. The friendship flew out the window months ago. Maybe he was too late to realise it. Maybe he should have tried to claw it back in - but what use would that have been? It would have been wounded. Scratched to smithereens. Damaged.
Standing up straight, you curse at the sky. Are saddened by how few stars are out. Feels like they're shying away. Maybe they're ashamed, too.
"I have to head back," you say. Are defeated as you turn to face Jeongguk. "Tae's doing his speech, soon."
Jeongguk nods. Looks to the floor. Doesn't want you to go. Knows he hasn't exactly done anything to make it worth staying.
Both struggling with the current state of affairs, there's no one to blame. Joint bad decisions have led you here.
But he wants you close. Wants things to feel normal. Is willing to do anything.
"Look, your ex is down there being a prick," Jeongguk sighs. He waits for a moment. Lets you work out what he's gonna say in your own head. Wants to see your reaction before any of his bias comes into play. "He thinks we're together.... The best way to get him off your back?"
Your lips part ever so slightly. A crease forms between your brows, but your eyes remain kind. "Gguk..."
Shrugging, he plays off the weight of a suggestion he hasn't even vocalised yet. "He thinks we're together. Makes sense for us to act like we are."
For reasons you can't explain, the idea of other people seeing you and Jeongguk act intimately towards one another fills you with fear. It's not like it's an abhorrent thing - but to see the way your friends look at you as you present yourselves as a couple is to see their genuine reaction to it. If they're disgusted, you'll know that you're not suited. If they're elated, it will only play into these weird feelings that you've been having and are so desperately trying to avoid.
Eyes scanning him, you try and work out what he thinks of it all. If he's disgusted, you could probably live with that.
If he's elated?
Makes you feel queasy. Scared.
He holds out his hand. Knocks his head to the side. "C'mon. Face those fears of yours. Hold my hand."
It's bizarre, how Jeongguk has quite literally licked your arse, and yet this feels like the most obscene thing he's ever asked of you.
When you arrive back in the main room, Jeongguk stands behind you, ever so slightly to the side. Loops his arm around your waist. It's unintentional, the way his hand comes to rest over your stomach. Fingers splayed, he pulls your back to his chest, and you pretend like you're able to stand up straight without his support. Pretend as if the world around you isn't caving in on itself.
It wouldn't matter, even if it was. You're safe here. Safe with him.
And yet you insist on pushing him away.
"I wouldn't stand like this with a boyfriend," you say. "Too overbearing."
"Well, I would stand with a girlfriend like this," he assures you. The fingers that aren't firmly keeping your stomach protected come to your chin. Encourage it to the side. Get you looking at him. "I'd stand with her like this," he whispers, glances behind you so briefly that you almost miss it. "And when her ex boyfriend is looking in our direction - of which he is now - I'd kiss her."
"That wouldn't be very professional," you whisper.
"No," he acknowledges. "I don't suppose it would be."
He pulls away.
"I'll let you get on," he says. "The second he even so much as breathes in your direction, you come to me."
"Gguk-"
"You make your excuses and you come to me."
"I can handle it."
"Fine then," he shrugs. Begins to turn away, but makes sure to say, "I'll come to you."
And despite the deep-rooted need for you to prove yourself, there's a stranger sitting next to your determination. She goes by the name of Desire. And all she does is fucking laugh.
As Jeongguk rejoins his usual crowd, he's met with silence.
"Hmm?" He hums, reaching over for the glass Jimin is holding. Doesn't know what he's drinking. Doesn't ask. Downs it. Hands it back. "What are we talking about?"
Mouths a little ajar, neither Taehyung nor Danbi quite know what to make of what's happening, nor the foul mood that so clearly has a grip on their friend.
"Riveting," Jeongguk says sarcastically, when the silence lasts for a little too long. "No, really. Please go on."
But then, right on cue, Seokjin is heading in your direction, and Jeongguk may as well be bleeding through his tear ducts, given how red his sight is.
Bolting for you, Jeongguk almost knocks into one of the waiting staff. Spends a short moment apologising, then makes sure to interact with the people standing behind you. Has never seen them before in his life. Has no idea who they are - yet he greets them like old friends. Wants Seokjin to question his place. Wants him to think that Jeongguk is so much more important than he actually is.
And when he arrives to find Seokjin already speaking with you?
Yeah. Ain't no way he's letting him win.
Jeongguk does not give a fuck. Does not care about the opinions of anyone else. The world around him is burning red, flames that refuse to flicker out - and you crash through them like a beam of white light. A shooting star that offers the promise of something better. Something new.
Imposing in his stance, Jeongguk comes to stand beside you. Offers his hand out to Seokjin.
"Ah! Seojoon," he says, deliberately getting the wrong name, and not caring that maybe it's indicative of the fact your former fling has also been on his mind. Fine! Maybe he's obsessed with the fact other people have more of a claim on your romantic history than he does. Sue him. "We met at the golf course, remember?"
Seokjin doesn't correct Jeongguk on the incorrect name, nor the incorrect location. Knows exactly what he's doing. Shakes his hand.
"Jeongguk, yes. You had to run off pretty quick, no? Didn't get a chance to rally."
Oh, but we did, Jeongguk thinks. Knows it's a good job he didn't stick around. Would have probably thrown a racquet at Seokjin's face. Accidentally.
"Mm," Jeongguk nods. Protectively grips the nape of your neck. "Had plans. Maybe next time."
Seokjin nods. "Maybe."
The tension between the men is getting thicker.
Soon, you won't be able to breathe.
So you smile towards your ex, and say, "Excuse us."
Which only serves to piss Jeongguk off. This is your shot. Your chance to show Seokjin how little you care - and instead, you want to run away. Un-fucking-believable.
Still he smiles at Seokjin, as if he knows something that he doesn't. Wants him questioning this interaction for weeks. Regretting. Lamenting.
"See you around," Jeongguk says pleasantly, as you lead him down the hallway, your pace getting angrier with each step. He rolls his eyes. Knows you're gonna wanna fight, and thinks fuck it. Will just let it happen this time. Can't be fucked with keeping the peace.
The janitor's closet you had visited with Danbi is down this hallway, and it's where you're headed. Want privacy. Need it.
Especially 'cause Jeongguk's spouting off like a facetious twat before you're even inside. "Worst fake girlfriend I've ever had."
"I don't know how I'm supposed to pretend to be your fucking girlfriend!" You hiss quietly once you're inside, as Jeongguk knocks across the latch on the door, as if anyone else would even think to be in a janitor's closet right now.
You only know the door passcode from when you had been setting up, and even that was a lucky guess. Had just tried the code that works for another door in the gallery when Danbi had dragged you here, too.
"Well, it's not that fucking hard!" He hisses back, trying the handle just to make sure it doesn't open.
"Apparently it is!" You reply childishly.
Turning to face you, Jeongguk is obscured by the lack of light coming in through the small window on the back wall. You can barely see one another, 'cause neither of you have flicked the light on - and quite frankly, you don't want to. It's easier to fight when you can't see how delicate he looks, or how handsome his jaw is when it flexes out of frustration.
"Oh fuck off," he laughs, but it isn't humorous. "Even the caricature artist in Busan had to ask if we were a couple. We are perfectly capable of looking like one."
"I'm sure she asks everyone that!"
"Oh, piss off-"
"Fine!" You say defiantly, barging past him. If he wants you to piss off, then you will. He's the one who got you into this mess. Frankly, you don't give a shit at this point - but the door won't budge. Lock won't move. You yank on the door, as if that will help.
For all of Jeongguk's internalised frustration, he smirks, now. Folds his arm. Perches his ass on the counter by the sink.
Trying to prize the latch open, you're stupidly worried about breaking a nail - but you refuse to ask for help. Look to the side for something you can use for leverage. Can only see mops. Half think about throwing one at Jeongguk.
He doesn't interrupt your struggle. Doesn't tell you that there's a second latch towards the top of the door.
"If you don't let me out, then God help me, Jeongguk, I will scream," you threaten. "I will scream so fucking loudly that everyone hears, and then I'll let you explain why you wouldn't let me out."
Jeongguk laughs. "Go on then."
But you don't. You won't. This is somewhere you hope to work, one day. You can't risk embarrassing yourself over something as pathetic as this.
If you do, then it means Seokjin has won.
Jeongguk is many things. He's frustrating, and confusing, and yet simple and straightforward. He's an oxymoron, and on occasion, just a moron. At the crux of his identity though, is a good human. There is one thing he is not, and that is cruel.
So he stands. Sighs. Walks towards you and leans up to the latch you've neglected to touch. Puts a hand on your waist to steady himself, not that he really needs to. Pulls the lock free. Doesn't let go of your waist, but he isn't keeping you trapped. You're free to fly.
And yet you stay put, breath hitched in your throat, time standing still for a moment.
"Go," Jeongguk says quietly, his raspy voice affecting you in ways that it shouldn't be right now.
But to go would be to give him what he wants - and you absolutely do not want to do that.
Most importantly, you don't want to leave. Would gladly fight with him right now, 'cause at least you're actually talking.
"You go," you reply childishly.
"Me?" He laughs. Comes a little closer. Practically whispers in your ear. "B, you're the one who wanted to go. So, go."
"Maybe I've changed my mind."
He scoffs. "Fine."
It's a childish back and forth. One of you needs to grow up, and take control of the situation - and as Jeongguk's hand grips your waist a little tighter and spins you round, it's evident who is taking that role.
There's a dominant assertion to the way he moves you. You've seen this side of him a few times, but it never fails to take your breath away.
Hands pinned above your head all rather suddenly, a single one of his palms can keep both of your wrists suspended. It's always driven you a little wild before - but he's pissing you off. Every little thing he does will annoy you, now. Even the sexy shit.
In fact, especially the sexy shit.
The hand of his that isn't clamped around your wrists comes to the base of your throat, and you can't help but gasp a little in surprise.
His voice is deep and low as he tells you to 'say chess.'
But you shake your head. Won't do a damn thing he tells you. "No."
He grips tighter. "Tell me to stop."
"No."
"Fine then," he husks. Presses his knee between your thighs. Spreads them. Drops the hand from your throat to your hips. Get you positioned just right. Pulls you further up his thigh. Encroaches on your personal space.
"Stop acting like you don't know how to fake things." His voice is dulcet. "Your ex should be pretty used to it."
"Hardly the same thing, is it?" You hiss back, but Jeongguk laughs, and presses a kiss to the side of your ear. Then the lobe. Then beneath your ear. Down your throat. Stops only once he reaches your collarbone. Raises his eyes. Looks directly at you.
"I'm gonna make you cum," he tells you with arrogant certainty. "For real. You're not gonna fake that. Gonna make you cum, and then you're gonna hold my hand in front of your ex-boyfriend and fake that like a good girl."
The energy he's radiating is electric; the right amount of jealousy and desire making you the only thing his brain can focus on for longer than a second at a time.
"Gguk-" you gasp as he pushes your hips down. The leverage is crappy, the angle not quite right, but the intention is there.
Jeongguk glances over his shoulder, to check he wasn't imagining the chair he swore he noticed earlier, and almost thanks the God he doesn't believe in when his eyes land on it.
He turns back to face you. Lets your hands drop from above your head. Cups your jaw. Brushes his lips against yours.
"You're gonna be a good girl for me, aren't you, B?" He says, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. Doesn't it let it linger. You don't get a chance to kiss him back, for he's moving you both to the chair. He sits, legs parted, and gets you straddled across his thigh. You're right where he wants you. "You're gonna ride my thigh and cum like a good fuckin' girl."
The satin of your panties rubs against his slacks without him even trying.
Hands beneath your dress, he squeezes at the flesh of your ass, spreading you. Pulls you up his thigh. Lets you build a motion. Encourages it.
He doesn't complain when your hands tangle in his hair. It surprises you at first, just how short it is. You've never experienced it like this. It almost distracts you from what's actually happening.
But then one of his hands comes to toy with your chest as you continue to ride his thigh. The neckline makes it so fucking easy for him. He gets you exposed, but doesn't keep it that way for long. Latches onto your nipple as soon as he fucking can. Groans against you, and then the sensation of his vibrating tongue forces the wetness to seep from your cunt.
Your rhythm against his thigh is well-established, now. Both of his hands are free to tug down on the top of your dress.
It's a pretty dress. Gorgeous, in fact, and you look incredible in it - but all he wants to do is take it off. Wants you naked.
For now, he'll settle with your satin-covered cunt rubbing up against him, and your tits nice and exposed for him to toy with. He's using you for his own gratification, and you're doing just the same.
His tongue flicks against your nipples, hands squeezing your tits firmly together. He sucks. Squeezes. Grazes his teeth. Makes you feel so fucking good. Part of you thinks he'll get you cumming just from the contact of his lips with your hardened nipples - but the way his strong thigh is acting as the perfect ridge? Fuck .
"I'm close," you promise as the pleasure trickles through your bloodstream like warm honey. Sweet, and delicate, there's something about orgasms earned by Jeongguk that always makes you feel like you've ascended. Heaven really is a place on earth. Remarkably, it appears to be in a janitor's closet with all of your closest friends just down the hallway.
Jeongguk nods. Slowly pulls away from your nipples, the suction so pleasurable you can't help but whine. "I won't stop you."
He means it. Keeps your nipples wet with his spit, tongue lapping against them, as your hips buck against him. Your whines get a little deeper. Friction stronger. Breaths needier.
And then, as soon as your body begins to shudder that tell-tale way, he lets his tongue loose.
"That's it, beautiful," he husks. Looks at you with stark adorned eyes. "Come on me like the pretty slut you are. What would they think, huh? If everyone here knew what you were doing? Be louder, baby. Let them know. Let them know how much you like to cum for me."
You whimper his name as your grind begins to ease - but Jeongguk doesn't let it. Uses both of his hands. Grabs your ass. Is intentional with the way he bounces his thigh up against you, forcing the sensation to jolt through you once more. Elbows on his shoulders, head buried in the crook of his neck, you're whining as he overstimulates you.
"God, I'll cum again," you tell him, teeth grazing his neck. He kinda likes the pain. Likes that he'll be waking up with a hickie, no doubt.
"Good," he grits. Is rough with your body. Wants that second orgasm, and he wants it now.
"Gguk-" you whimper, but can't manage to say anything more, the wave of pleasure taking over you so much faster. Chest heaving, you're unable to do anything other than languidly grind until your body stops. Hearts beating in sync, Jeongguk is so overwhelmed by how good it is to feel you come undone for him, he almost doesn't notice the way you begin to palm his incredibly hard crotch.
"Shit," he hisses. This was supposed to be about you. He shouldn't be letting you do this - and yet he's reaching for his belt. Is frantic as he unbuckles. Opens up his pants. Takes over from you. Dips his hands into his underwear. Wraps his hand around his hard, leaky cock. Smears the precum from his tip all over his head. Wants it in your mouth - but has other, more pressing ideas. "Can you stand for me, baby?"
Barely. Shaky on your legs, you do your best. Let him guide you - thankfully, to the door. Back pressed against it, Jeongguk gets you to hold the skirt of your dress up. Pushes your panties down, but only just enough to expose a small amount of your cunt. They're still around the top of your thighs, slick with evidence of your orgasm.
Jeongguk lines himself up. Rests the head of his cock against the edge of your underwear. Tells you, "I'm gonna cum in them. Gonna cum in your panties, and then you're gonna wear them all fuckin' evening."
"Please," is all you pathetically whimper.
It doesn't take long for him to get there. He's been worked up all week. He wanks himself off for you. Whines. Whispers shit about how hot you are. How much he likes doing shit like this.
Jeongguk grips onto your arm as his climax hits. Body doubling, he has no choice but to let his forehead rest on your shoulder.
"I'm cumming. Fuck. Fuck," Jeongguk curses. Tilts his head. Presses a wet kiss to the base of your neck as his body jolts and the first rope of cum spurts into your underwear. "Fuck, baby."
"That's it," you encourage, obsessed with the way he's whimpering, body all weak and feeble as it shakes for you.
He groans now. Grips his cock even tighter. Milks himself for all he's worth. Fucking ruins your underwear. Lets the top of his cock rub up against your clit. Massages your slick and his cum together. "Fuck."
When he finally pulls away, he says nothing. Immediately pulls his pants up as if he can't believe what he's just done, then pulls your panties up, too. Hooks the sides over your hips, pulling the mess he's made tightly to your soaked cunt. Cups his hand over your heat. Presses. Rubs. Teases little circles over your clit. Presses down more firmly. Builds speed.
"Gguk," you whine, grabbing onto his shoulders.
"Again, baby," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Cum again for me."
"I can't," you whine, the overstimulation about to kick in - but he dismisses it. Knows that if you wanted him to stop, you'd say 'chess'.
"You can, baby," he promises. Uses the hand that isn't massaging your clit to angle your jaw. Doesn't even think as he steals a pretty little kiss from your lips. Doesn't realise it begins to send you over the edge. "You're gonna cum like you're mine."
And how can you do anything else but succumb to his demands?
Lips on his, brows furrowed together, he swallows all of your pretty little whines, as your body shudders for him. He keeps you steady. Keeps you supported. Keeps his tongue in your mouth, and his hand rubbing your panties. Doesn't ease up until you pull away from his lips.
"Gguk," you pant. "Please."
Nodding, he eases slowly. Doesn't wanna let go too quickly. Keeps kissing you. Won't stop that. Never wants to stop that. Is still annoyed with you, yes, but knows he has a duty of care, now. Also knows he'd never forgive himself if he didn't take every chance he gets to kiss you.
When he finally pulls away, forehead resting against yours, he's spent. You're both panting, both struggling to formulate any words in the wake of such a devastating orgasm.
Brushing a few strands of hair back from your face, Jeongguk closes his eyes. Nudges his nose against yours. Shows a little restraint. Whispers, "You've got a show to return to."
Nodding, you shake a little from his grip. Say nothing as you adjust your dress. Try your best to ignore the thick pool of his cum that's gathered in your panties. The tops of your thighs will end up smeared in the evidence of him, and, quite disgustingly, it only serves to make you even more turned on.
"I'll follow behind you," he promises as he begins to sort himself out, too.
Nodding, you're a little unsure of exactly what to do. You're scared that someone will know. That you'll leak.
"I'm scared," you admit. Explain your worry. He rolls his eyes, but smiles as he does, so.
He tugs on your hands, and props you up against the counter towards the back of the small room. Spreads your legs. Assesses fuckin' nothing, 'cause it's so dark in the room - but knows your pussy almost as well as he knows his own name. Licks to the left of your lips. To the right. Ends in one thick stripe up the centre. Sucks ever so gently once he reaches your clit. Knows that your cunt - your leaky, needy, hole that he loves to stretch out so much - must be going insane from the lack of attention it's getting.
"You'll be okay," he assures you. Stands, and gives your pussy a playful spank. "C'mon. You've got horny old dudes to schmooze."
"Is that gonna get you off?" you tease slightly, your annoyance with him a little subdued.
"Maybe," he shrugs, already knowing it mostly likely will. "You're gonna walk around that gallery covered in my cum, and no one else but us is gonna know it," he smirks, the gravity of what he's just done finally kicking in. Cups your jaw. Presses a kiss to your lips. Husks, "You're gonna go out there and act like you're mine - 'cause right now, you are."
You don't argue against it.
The pair of you meander down the corridor in near silence. His hand is on your back, but your arms are tentatively folded across your chest. Each step is accompanied by your keen ears checking for audible evidence of your sin.
So caught up in your own worries, you don't notice how quiet the gallery itself is. How few people seem to be milling about. How the main lights are on now, and how it only seems to be those wearing 'staff' lanyards within the main space.
Pursing his lips as he realises, Jeongguk tries not to laugh.
"Oh, shit," you whisper, pulling on his wrist so you can check the time on his watch. 10:13. The show was scheduled to finish at 10, but you're sure most people will have filtered out before then. Have no idea what the time was when Jeongguk had dragged you away from the main room.
"S'fine," he mumbles. Grips a little tighter on your waist. Doesn't let you pull away, like he fears you will now that appearances don't need to be kept up.
You don't. Instead, your arms drop from their position over your chest, and reach for his hand, guiding him the direction of the (now unmanned) cloak room.
There's little chatter as you grab your coats - the only ones left there.
"Need to show you something," you mumble, digging into your pockets, and pulling out half a dozen empty tubes.
Jeongguk looks at you with a sense of frayed confusion - but if he were to thread the strings together, he'd see the bigger picture.
Dusted in fine glitter of different colours, the tubes don't seem out of the ordinary for you. Is totally the kind of thing he'd expect to see in your pockets.
Quietly, you grit your teeth together. Suck in a little air. Are embarrassed to admit what you've done.
But the person in front of you is your best friend. Even with judgement will come acceptance. There always is. Honesty is the least you owe him.
"I know I'm not wearing any glitter," you start slowly. Hold the empty tubes up, then toss them into the bin beside the concierge table. Knock your head to the side and encourage him to start walking with you. He does.
He also reaches into his own pocket, and pulls out his car keys. Passes them over to you. "Might be above the limit. Can you drive?"
Glancing over to him, shocked by the request, you double check. "Are you sure?"
He nods. "You can crash at mine. It's fine."
Despite it all, there's still no one else he wants to end the night with. No girl he'd rather take home. Platonic or romantic.
"Sleep, I mean," he adds. "Not physically crash the car. Please don't crash my car."
You just smile. Nod. After the hideousness of the week spent barely talking to him, there's nothing you want more than to just feel like things are still normal.
"So the tubes?" he asks as you reach the car. He lets you unlock it, but adjusts the seat for you before letting you get in. Also puts his jacket down on the cushion, just in case your underwear gives up on protecting your decency.
"Thanks," you say, stroking the side of his waist tenderly as he makes way for you and waits for him to get in before you start the car up. You get onto the main road, and make sure you've got your bearings before finally explaining yourself. "It was plausible deniability. The lack of glitter, I mean. Was deliberate."
"What do you mean?" He asks, reaching for the gearstick. Doesn't care if your hand is on it. Wants to hold it. You ignore his actions. Just let him intertwine his fingers with yours.
"I mean, the less glitter on me, the less credibility Jin would have when it comes to arguing that I'm the person who's emptied half a dozen tubes of glitter into his incredibly expensive formal winter coat."
Jeongguk says nothing for a moment. Plays out the idea of you stealthily depositing millions of glitter specks into a jacket that costs more than his yearly rent. Is slow to ask, "...which pockets?"
And you're slow to reply, "... All the ones I could find. Outside, inside. Secret pocket in the lining."
And then Jeongguk is laughing. Really fucking laughing. Looks over to you, and your bunched up little face, and is overcome a sense of pride he usually only feels for these gallery shows, or when a bird of yours is completed. The kinda pride that is reserved for you, and for your accomplishments.
"Shut up," you giggle now, too. "I know it's childish but-"
"No," he shakes his head. Can't stop smiling. "It's brilliant. Dunno if you've heard, but apparently glitter is a bitch to get out."
"Yeah," you grin. "I've been told that a few times."
And suddenly the events of the evening seem to feel less burdensome. Warmer. More pleasant.
You don't bother with small talk, and nor does he. Are just happy to exist together, and this state of ease lasts right up until you're in his apartment, shoes off, standing a little awkwardly in his living room.
Jimin is out. Everyone is. There are a million messages in your group chat asking where you are. You'll just reply in the morning. Too busy, now.
"I need to shower," you say, a little timid.
Jeongguk nods. "Same."
"Join me?"
To your surprise, he hesitates.
"You're the reason I need one in the first place," you remind him. "Please."
He looks down. Shakes his head. "I don't trust us."
"Nor do I," you tell him. "But this whole thing has been hell on earth, Gguk. I've hated it."
"Me too."
"I don't think..." you sigh. Don't want to share your conclusion, but know you need to. "I don't think careless fucking around is worth it. It's definitely not worth losing you."
"So what are you saying?"
Gesturing towards yourself, you grimace a little. "I'm saying we sort out the current... mess. Get showered. Whatever. Head to the pharmacy in the morning for the emergency pill, just in case - and then a few days from now, I'll take an actual test. Just wanna make sure my system is settled, first. And then, providing it all goes well, we sort ourselves out. Stop fucking around."
Jeongguk says nothing. Just sort of looks at you as if you've just hung up a new star in the sky, or something absurd like that. Nods. "Alright."
You're well aware that you shouldn't look at Jeongguk in the way that you do; that you shouldn't stand in his living room, and let the dress that you've been hoping would keep him focused on you all night drop to the floor.
He's well aware that he shouldn't look at you in the way that he does; like you're some kind of star to wish upon.
And yet you both do. He wishes. You grant his wishes.
There's a mess to clean up in the morning. Jeongguk can't shake the look on the faces of his friends from his mind. Knows that you need to cover your tracks.
But for now, he doesn't care.
Your dress is on the floor, and his heart is yours.
Though he'll always define you as his best friend, he knows that the way he wants you goes beyond the scope of that. Knows that there's no going back.
"Byeol," he whispers.
"Koo," you whisper right back.
He smiles. Shakes his head. "I love it when you call me that."
You nod. smile, too. "I love the way you smile when I call you that."
He's right not to trust the pair of you together. Right to assume that a shower is a bad decision. Right to think that the second he has you naked, he won't care about the consequences.
Quite frankly, he couldn't give a fuck. Skin on skin, he indulges in you. The way you feel, the way you sound. Pretends like it's normal, holding your waist as he peppers kisses up your neck. Tells himself it's not unusual for friends to let their hands roam. It's all about trust. Mutual adoration. Desire. Want. Careful carelessness.
You don't kiss him, at least. Not in the shower.
No, you don't kiss him... until you're in his sheets.
Neither of you got dressed after the shower. Went to bed naked with the promise of sleep - and yet somehow you're straddled across his lap at two in the morning, hips slowly grinding to get the feeling of fullness you love so much from Jeongguk.
"After this-" you husk into his lips, but he breaks your sentence with yet another kiss. You don't mind. "After this, we've gotta start taking shit carefully."
He nods. "Mhmm. Whatever you say."
"Gguk-"
"Byeol, please," he smiles. "I'm literally inside you. Can you at least wait until we're done to give me ultimatums?"
Laughing, you cup his jaw. Kiss him again, just because you want to. Because you can. "Yeah. My bad."
Sitting back up, Jeongguk watches on in a state of adoration as your body moves for him. So often the one to take the lead, he's letting you have control, now. Letting you ride him. Letting himself succumb to everything you are.
"Shit," he whines, back arching, head pressing into his pillows. Fingers gripping your hips, he thrashes his own upwards. Thrusts up into you like a man possessed. Gets your body all weak and feeble from the overwhelming pleasure he's delivering - and when your hand dips to toy with your clit? Oh, it doubles. Trebles.
"You're so fucking hot," he tells you. "Yeah. Play with yourself for me. That's it, baby."
Panting, you tap on his chest with your spare hand. "Hips. Slow."
He does what he's told even if he absolutely doesn't want to. Let you bounce slowly. Reaches up to hold one of your tits as you do so. Wants them in his mouth. Finds himself grinning when he thinks of how much he's changed since you first started fucking around together.
"God, I fuckin' love this," he whines a little mindlessly. Doesn't bother clarifying what 'this' is.
The hand of yours that's wrapped around his wrist begins to tighten. Nails dig in. Tiny pretty whines of satisfaction escape your lips. Eyes close. Speed of the hand rubbing circles on your clit increases. Sitting on his cock, he's keeping you stretched. Full. Lets you do whatever the fuck you like, 'cause he knows you're working your way up. Loves to watch it more than anything. Gets himself off sometimes thinking about it.
Leaning forward a little, you reach for his phone. Slide it open to his camera.
He narrows his eyes. "Whatcha doing there?"
Whiney as you manage to speak, Jeongguk thinks you must be a direct descendant of Aphrodite. "Giving you permission," you hum, passing his phone back to him, already recording.
He looks to the screen, a little red button in the middle and a time running through on the top. Raises his brow. "Sure?"
You're putting on a show for him, yes, but none of it is faked. This is as real as it gets.
"Oh, fuck yeah," he husks as he can feel your walls tighten. "Like that. Like that. Fuck ." Pulses his hips ever so slightly. Sneaks his hand to join yours. Takes over. "Cum all over my cock, baby. Yeah. Yeah, that's it, babe."
"Gguk, I'm so close."
"I know," he coos. "Let yourself. I'm here."
"You're so big," you tell him, just so he has evidence of it. Know it will do his ego wonders. "Makes me feel so good."
"Show me how good it feels. Cum for me. Please. I need this. Need you ."
And when you finally do?
Oh, it's glorious.
"There she is," Jeongguk praises. Doesn't bother to stop recording. Tosses his phone to the side. Pulls you in for a million kisses. "God, you're so pretty when you cum. So fuckin' pretty."
His hips continue to gently rock, his orgasm far less violent than yours. You only really know it's happening cause he grunts. Gets a little breathless. Hugs around your back as his legs begin to shake, and eventually he manages to shakily whisper, "it's yours. All yours."
You just assume he means his cock, or cum, or something vulgar like that - and while it would be correct, it's not what he means. Not at all.
He holds you as you sleep that night. Has no interest in pretending like he wants to be less than what you are right now.
But come the morning, you're cracking jokes together like you've never nearly made declarations you'd never be able to take back. Hang out, as if he wouldn't rather eat you out. Make a to-do list. Laugh, as it's titled 'Fixing the Star-Fuckers Fuck-Up'.
You make a trip out of the list. Go to a pharmacy a few towns over. Grab a drive-thru Maccies breakfast. Get absolutely slated when you order a Shanghai Snack Wrap instead of a classic egg McMuffin.
"Can't believe we're friends," Jeongguk says, disgusted by the fact you're choosing to have something from the all-day menu. "Can't believe we fuck ."
"Fucked," you remind him, and remember that you've a pill you need to take. Pop it out of the foil, and swallow it down with a chug of Jeongguk's drink. "Past tense."
"Yeah, sorry," Jeongguk grins. It's easier to pretend like the idea of not fucking doesn't phase him. "My bad."
His pretty grin swiftly disappears three days later as he paces around your apartment living room, waiting on the result from a little pink stick that's sitting on top of your toilet. You're in the living room, too. Don't wanna check it. Nor does he.
So you play rock paper scissors.
Jeongguk loses.
And as you nervously await your fate, all you hear from your bathroom is a single word.
"Fuck."
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Umm STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE THOUGHTS!!!!
You thought this series was dead and buried? Well maybe it is. This may stay in my drafts forever. But I suppose if you’re reading this it’s not.
Warnings for a flashing gif
and spoilers (obviously)
So enjoy and forward we go:
- They kinda just make you watch stars with nice background music for *checks time* two minutes and fifty seconds (no, there are no credits during this time)
- I’m so hyped for this, the credit music is so nostalgic and amazing
- Tron ass graphics <3
- Evolved Klingon design! Let’s go! Also they’re speaking Klingon which I think star trek is super proud of creating
- It’s so alien (as in the movie alien)
- Is that the lizard head rock from the Apple? No it’s Vulcan- damn what’d they do to Spock?
- It’s giving the dark crystal or labyrinth
- THEYVE GOT A VULCAN LANGUAGE?! I mean I knew they would but they created one for the first movie???
- When the Vulcan Master (it’s what imdb calls her) is reading Spock’s mind then the shot goes back to her face and she looks down and there’s a fucking vine boom and she smiles slightly at him like ‘THIS FUCKER IS HAVING GAY THOUGHTS’
- Jim is calling him <3
- It’s interesting how they pronounce Spock’s name differently
- Life is a Dream is my favourite song (It’s the one with the horns)
- Omg hi Kirk hi
- They gave him another Vulcan? Kirk must miss his husband so much
- imagine ten years after your favourite show ends, they make a movie and there are all your favourite guys again! I would have screamed
- Hiya Scotty
- Kirk looks so unhappy. Hmmm wonder why
- Aww this is such a cute conversation between Kirk and Scotty
- KIRK GETS TEARS IN HIS EYES SEEING THE NEW ENTERPRISE OMG. HE LOVES HER SM
- This is the slowest fucking shuttle ever
- I like how there’s just guys floating in spacesuits around
- ….Welp that’s over now. The ship has docked. Finally.
- oh the elevators are just voice controlled now. No handles.
- OMG HI UHURA!!! HI CHECKOV! HI SULU!!!
- Kirk’s about to go fire someone. This’ll be fun.
- Yeah Decker does not take this well. Kirk is just a petty bitch who loves his ship too much and definitely misses his husbands
- WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT? Wha- who- no wonder people don’t like using transporters that’s horrifying
- OMG THATS JANICE RAND!!!
- Kirk has turned into the idiot admiral that he used to hate dealing with
- OMG HIIIII BONES HES GOT A BEARD. They drafted him???? Wait no. JIM BROUGHT HIM BACK hehe
- “Damn it, Bones. I need you. Badly!” He missed his husband so he made him come back to fight a war
- That was such a normal moment between Kirk and McCoy. Sooo normal. I’m normal about it. Sooo normal.
- THAT LITTLE DUDE IN SPACE JUST DID A FLIP
- hi bones hi
- “Jim. You’re pushing.”
- They gave McCoy a better perch, he’s got a railing that’s closer to Kirk now
- time to ask: what is happening
- “Tor-pe-do away!” The slow voice really added to that
- Why is McCoy just there on his knees?!?
- Bones is NOT happy to be here. This is why he divorced Kirk (he’s still married to Spock though)
- McCoy can see that Jim is being unreasonable. But what is that stance and why aren’t they looking into each others eyes? (Edit: not sure what stance I’m talking about but yeah, why aren’t they?)
- It’s been 50 minutes literally nothing has happened except reintroductions
- HI SPOCK HIII HES SO HOT WHATS HE DOING HERE?
- damn why’d Spock just ignore Chekov like that
- Jim is so desperate. He wants this man so bad. He’s like literally starry eyed
- For Chekov this is like the worst high school reunion ever
- HI CHAPEL HAIII
- damn why is Spock ignoring his husbands :(((
- Bones looks so sad. He missed Spock
- Kirk and McCoy are about to interrogate their long gone ex husband. “Will you please sit down.” This is pretty much exactly what it would be like if they got divorced and didn’t see each other for awhile. Spock is trying to separate his emotions from the situation, McCoy is trying to be playful but sneaks in a question about what he’s been doing, and Kirk just wants them back he’s so desperate
- Not gonna say what I’m thinking cause I think that would be disrespectful
- “I believe they may hold my answers.” “Well, isn’t it lucky for you that we just happened to be heading your way?” “Bones! We need him. I need him.” Jim if you say that while staring into Spock’s eyes it’s a bit queer (happy pride month)
- They got the new Apple watches
- Spock is pulling a Deanna Troi
- They brought back Spock to wear the finest eyeshadow and serve silent cunt
- Shapes and colours by the likes of which I’ve never seen!
- I like how Bones just came onto the bridge FOR NO REASON but to kinda look shocked when Kirk was about to do something silly
- Most of this movie feels like, ‘look at this cool set/effects thing for a very long time’ and they are cool
- I now truly understand what a ‘long shot’ is
- Uh oh Kirk. Your husband got zapped!
- huh? whuh? Why’d it take Ilia?
- Everyone that comes onto the bridge takes a second to go what the f-
- Wow that’s just a pussy- *gets schmacked*
- Did Spock just fucking blue screen?
- just noticed Kirk in short sleeves <3
- ILIA BURST THROUGH THE WALL
- Why did they replicate her into high heels
- I love Star Treks idea that love can bring anyone back. Like if anyone is dead and someone loves them enough there’s no way they’re staying dead. And if you bring up Tasha, technically she didn’t die right there and then. And if you bring up Jadzia, fuck you
- What is Spock doing, why’s he mutineering
- They successfully contacted Ilia. There’s something so sad about it being her but not her at all
- Omg. Spock why would you do that?
- “That’s Spock. Damn him! Bring him back here.” Gotta wrangle your husbands
- I was going to say something about pussy and then Spock said “penetrated” so-
- Pussy so good you get blasted backwards- I’ve got to stop
- Spock laughing omg omg
- jaw dropped. That was gay. That was so gay!
- I like how Kirk just has these two guys around to explain things to him
- “It knows only that it needs, commander, but like so many of us, it does not know what.” Do you need something, Spock? What are you trying to say? Do you need the love of your husbands?
- HES JUST GONNA BLOW UP THE SHIP???
- I got legitimately jumpscared by Spock’s tear
He’s really pretty tho and they’re observing him
- “Is this all that I am? Is there nothing more?” This is the greatest moment in the whole movie thus far because it goes back to really what star trek is about. Talking about life through aliens.
- He’s bringing his husbands with him awwe
- woah how are they on top of the enterprise?!Okay I guess this is happening now
- VOYAGER??????????? Oh wait this is a real ship, isn’t it?
- So Decker is going to sacrifice himself to join with V’Ger, isn’t he?
- He rolls back to his husbands
- “As much as you wanted the Enterprise, I want this.” Jim did really want the enterprise, but he also just wanted love, same with Decker, they both just want their loves back.
- Shiny
- Kirk and McCoy staring, jaws dropped like, ‘What is this shit?’
- “And a lot of foolish human emotions, right, Mr. Spock?” “Quite true, Doctor. Unfortunately we will have to deal with them as well.” THEY’RE FLIRTING AGAIN YES!!!!
- It’s a little funny that Spock definitely arrived on the ship ready to stay. Like he cut his hair and everything just to see his husbands.
- “The human adventure is just beginning” what does THAT mean?
Well okay. Time to watch Wrath of Khan, I guess. I hear it’s better…
Masterpost
#star trek#star trek the motion picture#star trek tmp#james t kirk#spock#leonard bones mccoy#hikaru sulu#nyota uhura#pavel chekov#christine chapel#janice rand
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i would not have sex with my clone because what if my clone is evil (lie)
#postal dude#alter dude#evil dude#other dude#postal brain damaged#the fuck is this guys name.?? i hate him. i hate him so bad#the only other person that can ever complete the dude is himself i truly believe that. wwell except for me#which is a great thing because these two go at it like hogs#what do i c..#dudecest#....ok...
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Vanessa didn't even die and yet her story is still sadder and more fucked up than jtodd's. He wishes he was on her level
#may be a controversial one but i dont care this is my house#dont think there are enough of you to get hate over this anything#anyways no she didnt die. she wasnt killed by voter poll. but like the stuff that fucked her up was so much more real than a psycho clown#like im sorry but what is “you get beat up and die” to essentially getting taken and having the bad guys confirm to you that everything you#thought about yourself in middle school was true and everyone thinks youre ugly and worthless and not special and no one loves you. and then#ofc the medical torture. like im sorry but one of these things IS worse than the other imo#especially as the teen girl in the wonder woman comic like jesus christ#and while of COURSE the stuff about diana not loving her and all that is NOT true its something we see her struggle with as insecurity for#years beforehand. and then dc goes and brings her back into continuity in the past few years only to basically say “yeah wonder woman DIDNT#care about her! what a loser to think so and get all worked up about it! abt a vers of her who only has the name in common#like she wasnt dianas baby freaking sister with 100+ appearances#blah#vanessa kapatelis#anti jason todd#she also literally did the red hood arc before he did#with the whole attacking the successor and everything#yet another woman for him to steal from lmao#(this is mostly a joke. i dont think anyone making anything about jtodd canon or otherwise even knows what a wonder woman comic is but the#comparisons are still there.)
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Who is the best sign in host and Why is it Donny ??????? Thanks
#i hate this crop i would feel bad if it was super long and we got SFW donny or something#Anyway. hi guys!!#jackbox#jackbox party pack#jackbox fanart#ydkj#you don't know jack#cookie masterson#ydkj fanart#donny ydkj#ydkj 2011#He doesn't have last name . why do they never think of the names#nobody follows that tag anyway. still#Who else thought it was impressive that cookie is able to read straight up nonsense perfectly until he has to REALISE what hes reading#is straight up nonsense. That was so smooth right. which is also fucked up of him#potential idea of him straight up just Reading things in ydkj fs or fib4
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it’s like actually so phenomenal to me that jack is somehow the best worst written character ever. like yes your honor he’s a plot convenience device mirror foil but it’s not his fault. my client was simply doomed by the narrative
#I don’t know how to continue this post#I’m tired and I think my excedrin is wearing off lol#spn#supernatural#jack kline#like yes officer he’s the best guy around but god his writing is so fucking bad I need to save him from it#I trust nobody with jack except for yockey and bobo and that other guy whose name is failing me#at least they tried. but did anyone else try? did anyone else care? nooopeeee!!!!!#spn meta#sort of#he’s literally doomed by the narrative in real life isn’t that so fucking sick#brought to you by my autism getting worse and also me having to call off my first day of my second job because god hates me
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Now he’s trying to lie when he literally tagged Princeton like 5 fucking time. White people are so evil, bro. They always know what they’re doing when they do shit like that. With the attempt to bring harm to Black people who they want to “get out of the way,” because they don’t think that we belong in the same spaces as them while at the same time, believing they should be allowed INTO our spaces and afforded hospitality and a whole red carpet rolled out. The sad thing is, she has connections to the industry because of her uncle and name so what if this was just a random Black woman who worked for Princeton without this kind of protection at all…?
#I’m glad that she’s alright though#why is he trying to dumb down what he intended by saying that ‘she was trolling so I trolled back’ like she like many other black people#are always dead serious when we tell whites and nbs to stay out of black folks business#simply put#he just got offended since a black woman told him to stay in his own lane#he dumb ass didn’t even know who she was even though he’d interviewed her family multiple times before#a Russian making millions off of black culture what a joke#black people gotta be tired of being used#one day man#the sad thing is of course black men hate black women sm that they were defending vlad on his behalf (not surprised lol)#and I saw other black women being pick me’s going on about ‘what makes her SO much more special than other black people-‘ like are you….#do you bitches have rocks for brains or… these same people are the reasons why nbs and whites will always feel comfortable coming into our#shit and wrecking the place you guys don’t stand for anything and you allow others to trample over your own people#stand up one day#the sad thing is#ppl are still gonna go onto his platform to allow him to interview them and make money off of their name#this is one of the first times that I’ve seen black people really get in vlad’s ass though because what he tried to do to this black woman#was absolutely vile and this is the kind of shit that gets black people killed and put into bad positions#fucking loser#rambling
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that postal movie is so inconsistently ok
#i watched the last like. ten minutes of it cos i know most of the boobie is done by then its just like. blood n guns whatever#and like. i almost kinda get the vague impression of what they're trying to satirize#yknow?#and i still think the dude's monologue of just 'CAN'T WE ALL JUST GET ALONG' immediately being shot down is. im not gonna sit here and#cal it poignant but i GET it i think its funny and i think maybe you could argue theres something there about how arbitrarily willing human#are to just kill each other instead of trying to work things out#hence the ending#and i think maybe the stuff with the US nuking themselves to clense out the 'terrorists' would work better if they werent already like#literal villians in the film i feel like the satire is lost when you start punching down like that i think the whole point the movie was#'trying to make' about how nine eleven was jsut a tragedy and not some grand justification for our overseas .massacring. doesn't work so#well when you've also got to throw in a bunch of 'terrorists' as your set of bad guys. you know?#also i dont care chris coppola is really entertaining as richie i HATE THAT GUY#also i lost my mind when the IRS actually called him 'david clark' i was like OH SO THAT IS HIS ACTUAL NAME GET UP#postal dude and faith could have been fun if faith had been in the movie for more than two fucking scenes before. but WHATEVER#WE DONT HAVE TIME TO DEVELOP OUR CHARACTERS RELATIONSHIP WE NEED TO HAVE CUTAWAY VIOLENCE/BIGOTRY JOKE NUMBER 334835345#consider the following
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fun fact about me: i'm insecure about so many random things that i've never flipped anyone off in my 22 years of life because i think my middle finger looks awkward and ugly by itself
#and like i say: brf slt#i felt like this especially when i would have been likely to do it semi-regularly like in middle school. but like i was thinking about this#the other day and i did it in front of a mirror just to check and it looked as bad as i remember like it's just not for me#i have a story abour middle fingers though or just about what one would call the finger#when i was in what an american would call the 5th grade (i can never do when i was x years old because it's not an accurate representation#of the class i was in since i skipped a grade and the grade is what matters more to me. when i was 9 and my friends were 10 i was saying)#we would always play this game called girls catch guys or guys catch girls where the girls would run after the guys and like tap them on#the shoulder and then they would go to prison and they would line up and another guy could set them free by like touching one of the#prisoners it was a very fun game except it's way more fun to be like the ones getting caught than to be the ones catching and we would#ALWAYS play girls catching guys and it was very unfair we would be like okay in the morning we do guys catching girls in the afternoon#girls catching guys so it's fair like normal system but the guys NEVER wanted to do it (and we would always give in because like we still#wanted to play ig and idk guys. female socialization) they never wanted to be the ones doing the catching it was so unfair because we also#didn't like it as much and we did it all the time?#and i remember this one morning we were fighting about this we had literally all agreed that it was fair this way but they didn't want to#do it and my second best male friend flipped me and my best (female) friend off and (very#important detail) he did it with both of his hands so like two middle fingers and i don't know why because i'm not even sure that that's a#thing but one middle finger meant fuck you and two middle fingers meant go fuck yourself and to us that was very different? and i remember#my friend and i we like knew what it meant but for some reason we were like. he did do the one finger before doing the two does this mean#he...loves us because it literally means he wants to have sex with us#but what's funny is we never talked to him again after that and i don't even know why that was our last straw because i remember i#genuinely liked him before that like i said he was my second best male friend! so like maybe sixth best friend overall that's not bad#and he's not the only guy friend who flipped us off that year like it was so random to stop talking to him after that😭#like he was an actual enemy we really did not like him we talked about him in letters we'd give each other using a nickname etc#and what's even funnier is in our last year of middle schoold FOUR YEARS AFTER THIS a friend of a friend told him he should become friends#with well my friend and he was like hm i don't think so have you seen who she hangs out with? marianne *last name* like why do YOU hate#me😭 it was so funny like wdym it was mutual this whole time. i had literally moved on by then i didn't even care about hating him#anymore like wow...i think he's the only person i hated who actually hated me back
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started off the new year running a randomly generated dnd game and this bastard was something like a big bad and now he lives rent free in my brain
#dungeons and dragons#dnd#dnd lich#dnd tabaxi#tabaxi lich#dark secrets my beloved#i wasn't sure if my friends were gonna find them scary or cute 'cause skeleton cat!#but no apparently i nailed the intimidation factor with this guy which i am so happy#i had 0 confidence running this thing but we were all itching to play dnd#and i love randomly generating characters so i suggested they do that for fun#and they all rolled such fun characters that i just went fuck it#and now im trying to casually expand the setting and shit cause id love to play again#one of the players named their hexblood after a noble gas and now there are covens of hags that name their little buddies after elements#and the science kid in me is fucking vibrating about it#then there is the vampire whose dad is like “WHERE THE FUCK DID MY SON GO”#he sucks so bad and dark secrets hates him more than anything its funny af#god and then the water genasi holy shit just wants to be a gardener man#i love them all so bad holy shit
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No one else talks about it but the guy who copyrighted the term "yooperlite" is the shittiest guy ever and hes at EVERY SINGLE gem and mineral show in the great lakes area. And not to fucking mention he ended up JACKING UP the prices on Lake Superior sodalite and he ripped off the patent on another guys UV light! He's selling worse blacklights for WAY more than most of the other people on the market. Like absolute shit guy. If you want to sell LAKE SUPERIOR SODALITE you can't sell it as YOOPERLITE because the name is copywritten. ALSO LIKE FUCK HIM FOR REAL!!!
#not to mention becuase its SOOOO easy to find ppl dont even agate hunt anymore.#if you go to any public shorelines for Lake Superior you'll see like twenty other groups looking for sodalite#the beaches are totally picked clean#i used to be able to find a few decent peices of sodalite a night when i visited but the last time i looked i had to get like#knee deep in the water to even find ANY#god i fucking hate that guy so much#i need something bad to happen to him so people can call it Yooperlite again#like fuck you for real for copywriting the name of a rock#like actually kill yourself im so serious. hes the bane of every single gem and mineral show i go to#anyways#sorry ive had thag on my.chest for months i needed to get it out there#fuck that guy fr#personal#sorry to geology post on you guys at 11pm
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