#but white people and straight people and men who just can’t look at how awful the world is
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theamazingannie · 6 months ago
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Being mad at the people who have been influenced by the terrible stuff they’ve seen rather than be mad at the terrible stuff is honestly such a crazy way to live like how do people do that
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frasier-crane-style · 6 months ago
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Furiosa And Its Response: A FAQ
Q: What’s Furiosa about?
A: Ironically, for all the claims prequel Fury Road wasn’t ‘about’ Max, Furiosa isn’t entirely about Furiosa. The first hour or so features Furiosa as a child, kidnapped from the Green Place (an idyllic oasis whose people live in peace and abundance, zealously protected against the post-apocalyptic depredations of outsiders) and then becoming the prisoner of Dementius. Dementius is sort of the villain protagonist of the movie’s first half while Furiosa is on the sidelines.
He seems like the last gasp of the savage warlords like Toecutter and Lord Humongus that we saw in the Mel Gibson Maxes. He is entirely about increasing the size of his horde while taking and consuming any resources he can find. He comes into conflict with Immortan Joe (the villain from the ‘sequel,’ Fury Road), who is more of the iron fist in the velvet glove, and one of the interesting points of this movie is how Joe seems like a reasonable administrator in contrast to Dementius. He’s an awful person, obviously, but at least he keeps the trains running on time.
Furiosa grows to adulthood caught in-between Dementius and Joe’s feud, eventually moving to escape and return to the Green Place.
Q: Is it as good as Fury Road?
A: Not quite. It has a new cinematography look that tends to give things a plasticky CGI sheen, like Attack of the Clones or something. I know that they did a lot of the effects practically and that Fury Road used a lot of CGI itself, but yo, what's the point if it looks fake?
Also, towards the end, Dementus gets into this "we're not so different, you and I" deal with Furiosa that feels like a reach, considering he hasn't seemed to be motivated by revenge at all throughout the story, just bog-standard ambition and lust for power, so trying to make him a dark mirror to Furiosa now seems like a strain for profundity.
Q: Is it woke?
A: I’d say not unless your definition of woke is so expansive that it’s basically meaningless. The themes of the movie are too universal to belong to any one political movement.
-Rapists, tyrants, and warlords are bad.
-In a radioactive wasteland, it’s good to live in a self-sufficient oasis.
-Good people try to avoid violence when possible and want to live in peace.
It does have a female protagonist, but so do Aliens, Terminator, Kill Bill, and a buttload of Michelle Yeoh movies. If you say that you’re fine with female protagonists, just not with poorly written ones, then I don’t see how that’d be a problem here.
In fact, it’s stated that the reason Furiosa is so badass is because a straight white man, Imperator Jack, saw her core toughness and mentored her. He’s not at all a simp and is treated as a paragon of masculinity—reasonable, respectful, self-controlled, and hypercompetent. He and Furiosa are in an implicitly romantic relationship.
That’s right. Furiosa is so cool because a boy fell in love with her and taught her everything she knows.
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Other men help out Furiosa on her quest and some women are enthusiastically villainous. In that respect, it’s even less ‘feminist’ than Fury Road was.
Q: Okay, how’s it doing at the box office?
A: Not well.
Q: Why is that?
A: Opinions vary. Some say it’s because, despite the movie’s quality, it’s getting caught up in a backlash against ‘gender-swapped reboots’.
Q: Is it?
A: Possibly. I should note it isn’t meant as a ‘passing the torch’ ‘legacy’ ‘rebootquel’, just as a spin-off. The next movie that director George Miller wants to do is a prequel to Fury Road focusing on Mad Max, entitled The Wasteland. So this movie is more like if, between Batman movies, they made a movie about Catwoman going on a solo adventure.
Q: It can’t be doing poorly because it has a female protagonist, the most successful movie last year was Barbie!
A: You’re telling me female audiences showed up for a wacky comedy with a big showstopping musical number, but not for a gritty action movie focusing on death and revenge, despite both having female leads? It’s almost like girls like girly movies while men like manly movies (most of Furiosa’s audience is male—and I wonder how much bigger it would be if they’d advertised Imperator Jack’s presence instead of keeping it a secret).
Q: All movies are doing poorly this year!
A: Godzilla X Kong did well, as did Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, Dune 2, The Beekeeper…
Q: It’s been a long time since Fury Road came out, people forgot about it!
A: It was a long time after Beyond Thunderdome that Fury Road came out.
Q: Well, people are only going to the theaters for big event movies!
A: Chris Hemsworth and Anya Taylor-Joy in an epic action movie follow-up to Fury Road isn’t a big event? Look, I’m not saying these aren’t factors, but I remember seeing a movie before this came out and overhearing an elderly couple looking at a poster for Furiosa and muttering, in a disgruntled fashion, words to the effect of “Oh, great, they made Mad Max a girl.” I think it’s very possible that Hollywood has killed the market for female-led action movies by making people think they’ll get a deliberately assaultive product every time they try their luck.
Q: But aren’t woke people turning consuming politicalized product into a secular religion?
A: Umm… maybe? I think most people who are fans of anything get pissed off when quality work goes ignored while slop (reality TV, Michael Bay movies, Call of Duty games, comics about Batman) get hugely appreciated. Everybody should probably not take the box office so seriously, since the important thing is that we have a fun movie to enjoy, even though it is frustrating that we could’ve had a whole trilogy of Rocketeer movies if just a few more people had bought tickets. Jennifer Connolly, in her prime, playing a thinly veiled Bettie Page!!!
Q: Then you think I should see it?
A: Yes. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, obviously, but if you like action movies or prior installments in the franchise, it’s hard for me to believe that you won’t get your money’s worth here.
Q: Does it have good disability representation?
A: Uh. I guess? It’s in the context of people having birth defects owing to radioactive fallout from nuclear war, but sure. Why not?
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greenhappyseed · 21 days ago
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Yesterday was a Very Bad Day for the Democratic Party, progressives, and leftists at the U.S. federal level. There’s no sugar-coating that America is, and remains, an extremely conservative country. As a result, the Republicans will control the presidency, the Supreme Court, the Senate, and possibly the House of Representatives (still being determined!) for at least 2 years.
What can we even do? There ARE a few things:
1. Do not panic. It’s highly unlikely that there will be internment camps or prosecution of people who worked in the Biden Administration. However, it IS awful and shocking that the chance is now greater than zero. Take some practical precautions where you can �� save some money, take care of your health and get extra meds refills now, look for new jobs, evaluate where you might be able to move, consult lawyers, etc.
2. Seriously consider not oversharing information about yourself both online and IRL. If people don’t need to know your religion, sexuality, etc., then consider if it’s safe to share voluntarily. Like if it preserves your physical safety, it’s okay to be closeted. Make sure you live to fight another day.
3. Lemme say that again: Live to fight another day. If you can’t resist or you’re too burned out to resist, that’s understandable. You are NOT failing if you’re not constantly organizing or writing letters to your elected officials. Take some time and space to take care of yourself. Be with loved ones and minimize time with people who make you feel less than human (or learn how to be okay with compartmentalizing if you can’t escape right-wing family/coworkers). Help others if/when you can.
4. When you have the spoons, focus on your state and local officials. Many states have their legislature, governor, and more elected on different cycles from the federal government. So vote in those! Your state governor, your state medical board, your state Secretary of State, etc can use the power of the state to stop federal overreach. Also look into trade groups and professional associations, which can engage in lobbying and public advocacy. Otherwise, there isn’t much any of us can do at the federal level. We have to let Trump and his cronies break some things, and we can’t spend energy fighting what we just can’t fight.
5. In TWO years, the federal House of Representatives will be up for re-election, as will a chunk of the Senate. The primary process for those elections will begin roughly a year from now. Get involved! Vote! If Dems can take Congress in 2026, they can block a lot of the Trump agenda. (But do expect that he will move fast in the next 18 months. The breathless news announcements will be exhausting so be prepared to ignore or compartmentalize.)
6. Anything Trump wrecks is temporary. Seriously. It might outlast my lifetime, but probably not yours. Even the Supreme Court can be expanded to 11 or 13 or 15 people if there’s enough political force behind it.
7. Going forward, focus on Democratic wins over social progress. The sad reality is that Americans prioritize their own wallet over LGBTQ rights, climate change, DEI, etc. so Democrats MUST make the financial and economic case that their ideas are better (and they will probably choose a white-ish cis straight man to deliver that message). It’s less about ACTUAL plans and more about making people BELIEVE Dems have better plans.
Once in power, Democrats can lowkey push for the social issues. But putting social issues front and center while trying to downplay the economy turned off a large numbers of voters — including many Black men and a landslide majority of the Latino population. Similarly, talking about international issues like Palestine, Ukraine, and Taiwan (as conservative as Kamala is on those issues!) didn’t resonate with half the country. As Bill Clinton’s campaign manager said in 1992, “it’s the economy, stupid.” Most Americans vote selfishly according to their own perceived prosperity…and that’s it, above all else. Contrary to what it says on the Statue of Liberty, we apparently do not care about the tired, the poor, the huddled masses, the wretched, or the homeless if we think we aren’t keeping up with our neighbors.
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freeuselandonorris · 9 months ago
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Overheard a conversation last weekend and the whole thing was “oh do you know Claire? Well Eve is the hotter sister like fuck she’s like celebrity hot. Do you follow her on insta? Get your phone out and show him. Now I know you’ll have already done it but zoom in on her tits. Yeah mate.”
And at one point talking about some other lassie “if you get a chance to fuck it. Fuck it” like just SO misogynistic and sexist and awful and it was just like ??? Is this genuinely how men view & talk about women?? Its so depressing
(I told my friend who is just like exactly the sort of girl they were talking about about and she was like “were they attractive enough to be saying that” as if the whole conversation isn’t massively ugly in itself and that just depressed me more)
oughhh anon ❤️ i’m sorry you had to listen to that shit.
so, look. being blunt? yeah, of course there are men who view women like that. i don’t think it’s always that overt and that aggressively misogynist (it??? i mean jesus) but these things exist on a spectrum. that’s kinda what i was riffing on with the drivers who’d fuck non-underwear models posts (which i’m guessing is what prompted you to send this to me specifically) — it’s not necessarily that all/most men have such extremely dehumanising views of women as the ones you overheard, but certainly there are a lot of men out there who can’t really conceive of women and femme people as anything other than decoration. people of all genders (as evidenced by your friend’s response) have a misogynistic tendency because that is how they, we, everyone is socialised in the western world (and elsewhere but i’m speaking to my own lived experience as a westerner here), to a lesser or greater extent, in the same way that we are all socialised to prioritise whiteness, heterosexuality and cisgendered existence. these are huge structural issues and other people have written extensively about them far better than i ever could.
but don’t fall into that mindset of thinking ‘all men think women are just meat to fuck’ because then you start expecting that behaviour from them, and if you expect it, you’ll excuse it. expect better. there ARE men out there who are actively doing the work, who understand that somebody’s gender doesn’t define them, and who do genuinely respect women (i.e. not because they think it’ll get them laid if they pretend hard enough). don’t expect and reward bare minimum behaviour.
to be completely honest, i rarely spend time around straight men anymore. when i go to clubs it’s queer clubs (not that there aren’t severe issues around misogyny in queer circles but it’s less of a meat market) or sex clubs that have a very strong focus on consent culture. my friends are largely queer or allies, very few of them identify with the kind of ‘straight male culture’ that is accepting of speaking about women in this way. as you get older and get more boundaried, it becomes easier in some ways to avoid this kind of mentality (although it’s impossible to avoid it entirely).
idk i feel like i’m rambling and not really making any coherent points here but in short, yes this is the way some men view women and it sucks and is horrendous! i think to exist as a woman or femme person you almost have to make peace with the threat of misogynist violence and deal with it in the best way you can (playing with this threat through things like CNC is actually a massive part of that for me) — not in the sense of excusing it, but because there’s nothing you can do to fully insulate yourself from it. what you CAN do is choose who you spend your time with, to some extent, and who you give your mental energy to, and the expectations you have for the people in your life.
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anyways-wonderwall · 9 months ago
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Album of the Week #74
Canned Wheat
(1969)
by The Guess Who
Overall Rating: 8.5/10
TL;DR: Who knew a voice that incredible belonged to someone named Burton from Manitoba. 
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(Look I get you're from Manitoba but this cover is a little too silly. also why the sticker about the single? 5/10)
Overall Thoughts
We’re staying in 1969 for this week, with an album that initially felt a lot like last week’s Flying Burrito Brothers album, but quickly veered off into something with more personality and intrigue. Well, for some of the tracks. 
One of the things I’m most critical about in music is a white man’s voice. That may be a little bit stupid given most of the music I listen to is (unfortunately) sung by white men, but we all know they are given way to many chances to be genuinely awful singers. Lou Reed is well respected, and Rolling Stone had the audacity to put John Lennon as the 12th greatest singer of all time and Bob Dylan at 15. Clearly if you’re a white guy who can write a decent song singing ability is optional, which means I will immediately point out if some guy has an obnoxious voice. That makes it all the more remarkable that I was just taken aback by how amazing Burton Cummings voice is. 
The Guess Who was originally marketed as blue-eyed soul, something that breeds melodramatic vocals, but Cummings doesn’t fall for that here. He’s always on pitch (even live), never self-indulgent, smooth, with just enough feeling to make you falter. The instrumentals on these songs were good, but often nothing remarkable. You have talented people on every part, every once in a while a bassline that’s interesting enough that I’ll start nodding along, but it was really the vocals that kept me listening, not something I expected from a 70s rock group. 
Well so what is interesting on this album? Not “No Time,” which was later put on American Woman as a single and became one of their most famous songs, despite sounding like a B-side off of the Flying Burrito Brothers album. “Laughing” and “Undun” ended up forming the single record for this album and are the ones that are actually worth listening to. The first leans blue-eyed soul and was marketed as a follow-up to “These Eyes,” and is wonderfully crafted if you ignore the 30 second fade out. “Undun” is the real star of the show and the reason I wanted to listen to more of The Guess Who. I just adore how consistently driving it is, with guitars that feel latin in a way I can’t quite put my finger on, a voice that gives me goosebumps, and MULTIPLE FLUTE SOLOS!!! That’s right, in case I wasn’t sure if I was in love with Burton Cummings (very unfortunate name), he plays the flute and adds solos to multiple songs on this album. I just need everyone to watch this live rendition of it that I have watched 3 times in a row already. Just incredible. 
The album ends with a eleven-minute song “Key,” which with a run-time that long is fighting an uphill battle to get me to like it. And the lyrics are biblical? Well now double the steepness of that slope. Weirdly though, I was interested the whole time, even through the 5 minutes of miscellaneous percussion sounds. After that song ended and I was left confused on how they were able to grab my attention that long the final song “Fair Warning” comes on with bedroom pop perfect guitars (think Rex Orange County) that make me sink deeper in my mattress. I’m not able to fully relax though because then voice with an exaggerated scottish accent comes in warning me to not become a rock star. Its somehow soothing though, the way he says “dohn’t be a staaaa.” then the album goes quiet. Up until that point the album is pretty straight forward, and serious, leaving on that note makes me eagerly want to flip the page to the next chapter. 
(I should also mention that while it is not in the standard album the 2000 rerelease includes the song “Silver Bird” which is so peaceful that it is the only song that was new to me on this album that got added to my liked songs. God I love Burton Cumming’s voice. I just wish his name wasn’t so god awful.)
Next week's review: In The Right Place (1973) by Dr. John
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radsplain · 2 years ago
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All you radfems constantly shitting on trans people like you have nothing better to do in your life. Like. Have you ever even taken a minute to try to realize what it feels like to feel like your own body is wrong and awful and disgusting and you can’t stand another minute trapped in it? To starve yourself until you’re underweight just because that way you look less curvy and your breasts are smaller and you’re less feminine? To feel like you want to take a knife and cut off the parts of your body that you can’t stand to look at? Using drugs to cope with dysphoria and make your brain finally shut up? Feeling so completely isolated because no one in your life understand what it’s like to feel this way? Not being sure about any of the decisions because despite any surgery and hormone therapy in the world, you will still never be a *real* person of the other sex? As if the waiting lists aren’t months to years long anyway. You all talk like you can bring a child to a clinic and they’ll get hormones the next day. When in reality even for adults the process consists of visiting multiple mental health professionals, multiple doctors, it can all take years before you even get to start taking them? And also how it feels like having to hide your feelings from everybody because even your own family would be disgusted by you? You all act like trans people are just straight white males whose entire transition process consists of makeup and dresses and wigs and out of a desire to harass women. And yeah, those people exist. But not everyone is like that. The majority, who actually has a life outside of Twitter, isn’t like that. Not everyone is quite literally willingly letting their bodies be mutilated just to achieve what, flashing your genitals to a kid in a public bathroom? Real life is not like that at all. You’re so uneducated and naive on this topic yet talk like you’ know everything. Trans women are evil predators and trans men are poor victims of the manipulation and propaganda. Literally just read one actual trans person’s description of their life. And honestly fuck those tiktok kids inventing new genders because they want attention because you know that’s not what I’m talking about so don’t even try to use it as a talking point. There’s a fucking difference between dying your hair blue and wearing horrible “alt” clothes and going by she/they just because all your friends are doing so, and someone who has spent their entire life wishing they were born as a different sex and already showing it as a child but no one bothered to ever pay attention because kids are just quirky and weird like that. And never paying any attention to it in the rest of childhood and adolescence either, because why deal with a problem when you can easily ignore it? And yet I’ll most likely still never get to actually go through the medical or social process of transition due to societal pressure and the shitty place I live in. And I’m just one of the people with this experience that you keep mocking either due to your willful ignorance or complete lack of empathy, and I honestly don’t know which one is worse.
I mean this in the most genuine possible way, but please seek out therapy. It probably felt good to get all that out, but spilling out all of your anxieties onto random people is not going to help you with everything you listed here. This entire message literally proves my point about the gender cult and why people, especially TIFs, decide to transition. You're not "trans" (no one is, but that's a whole other post). Y'all literally just need therapy. REAL therapy, not that "gender-affirming" bs. So much of this message, especially the parts about feeling wrong and disgusting in your body and wanting to starve yourself until you're underweight to look "less feminine" is such a red flag. I'm not a doctor or psychologist, but babe you're not struggling with "gender dysphoria." You have massive body image and mental health issues that haven't been addressed and are being wrapped up in this ideology of being "trans."
I'm not going to respond to every single point you made here, but this massive tangent feels like it was more for you to let out your frustrations than for me. And that's fine, but just know nothing you said here has swayed my opinion. If anything, it's strengthened it. I do have empathy for what you're going through and I truly do wish you healing and happiness, but venting to random strangers on the internet like this really isn't going to help you.
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dreadark · 2 years ago
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disorganized rant zz
why does it feel like the entire internet has decided misogyny doesn’t exist 
this is just me complaining about random shit I’ve seen I don’t know about trends or anything just. also i don’t go outside
idk I saw a post recently saying something like, since white women can’t pretend to be oppressed anymore now they’re— okay hang on. what? im not even going to read the rest of that because.. what? what do you mean pretend… what do you mean anymore… what world do you live in…
do you actually think being white cancels out misogyny or something. like I don’t even know where to begin with this… I really feel like somehow people have taken to adding “white” before they make a blatantly misogynistic statement so they can avoid criticism lmao. ah damn we can’t object now or we’ll be racist !
obviously some of them are fucking awful and being a woman doesn’t excuse that and white women have certain privilege others don’t etc etc. no shit dude. but this is…so beyond objecting to just that... also people really love shitting on white women in particular even more than white people in general which really I Wonder Why
i remember when roe was overturned and there were a bunch of people being like wait this is bad. because it can even affect trans men, and also certain minorities will be worse off
those are relevant points yeah but… can you not just care about… women in general..??? sorry now I sound like a fucking all lives matter guy but how else can I say this, sure some rich (usually white) women might be able to get around it but it doesn’t change how this is primarily an issue of women’s bodily autonomy. also I don’t even think the ability to sidestep it means they’re not affected, that they still have to do something extra is.. bad..?
I don’t think it’s wrong to point out those caveats or anything, it’s just a weird feeling I get that a lot of people won’t care if you just mention it’s bad for women. because they don’t think misogyny is a real issue anymore
also in more minor things, being gacha-diseased as I am (sorry) watching ppl act like media is unfairly biased against male characters is… a take… (it’s not even remotely true in gacha !! what !!! Every time I remember that one stat about how ppl perceive women as talking the majority of the time when they talk more than 33% or smth *don’t remember the exact number sorry. told you this is just some rant)
yknow what it’s not just gacha, either it’s bad for female characters to exist because it’s political (lol) or it’s bad because it’s waifubait for straight men. well most people will see the first one for bullshit but the second… is something why I am so glad you’re unable to see female characters as anything other than sex objects! (you don’t need to be attracted to women to do that btw)
it’s really depressing to see this even from people who seem like they should have better views on this stuf (how do I phrase this...)
ah right recently i saw a quote from someone involved with tlou2 circulating around tumblr about how all games except tlou2 were bad or something
Obviously it was a fake quote. i mean...tlou2... i’ve never played it but we’ve all heard the complaints about it for the crime of having a muscular woman or something. and also just being bad in general because it has to be a triple A gameTM idk I didn’t look too into this honestly im not into these things
and yknow what im sure it’s not a very good game, you’re allowed to dislike things, etc. but because of the type of backlash, maybe you should have a thought that when someone posts something outlandishly bad related to it, mmmmaybe they have some kind of agenda. just a thought
(yeah if you looked in that post’s comments the op was going on to defend gamergate. and i suppose a lot of people now don’t even know what that is...)
so it’s like, why does this matter--you can see it with that post itself, you just gave that guy a platform to tell a bunch of previously unaware people about why diversity in video games is bad and women are ruining everything actually. but hey that’s fine because we fixed misogyny already don’t worry about it
....i really think a lot of this is coming from people who don’t realize, and that might be the worst part of it...
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glorbo-from-your-evil-show · 2 months ago
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People on this website for some god forsaken reason want a politician that perfectly fits their ideals. Except there isn’t one. The ONLY way for a politician to share your exact ideals is for YOU to be one. This is ESPECIALLY the case for presidency.
Sometimes, you’re going to have to compromise a bit and realise that getting them to do what you want them to do? Probably not going to happen in their 4 year term. Sometimes, you’re going to have to recognise that - they’re going to do some things you won’t like much. But you’re gonna have to either protest or shut up about it, because your other option is someone who would deport a person with even the slightest hint of foreign descent.
Your other option is someone that literally makes up random ‘facts’ as he talks IN A POLITICAL DEBATE. It’s not lying about a policy (the normal politician thing) he is just straight up being full-blown racist live on air. He has gone on document saying he’ll ban abortion, he’ll make sure only he can ever be president, he tried to act like he was a self made billionaire.
The only reason Biden actually dropped out of the race was because - Trump would have won!!!! Which is insane to me!!! Trump and his team managed to so thoroughly ingrain the idea of ‘sleepy joe’ into people’s minds that a lot of you genuinely think the man has dementia and can’t speak properly. When there are plenty of videos of him, speaking properly and impassioned! You were not immune to propaganda and you still aren’t. You’re still seeing literal bots (this has been proven!!!) made to get the left to stop voting and thinking they’re right!!! You’re seeing bots say ‘voting means you support a genocide’ and thinking that’s correct?!?!? I don’t understand. I really, really don’t. It confounds me.
And i feel like you may not understand yet.
If you vote for Trump? There are no queer rights. There are no women’s rights. There are no equality acts. There is nothing except more empowerment of white cis men. Right now? Is probably the best it’s been for queer people for a WHILE, if not ever. And you want to undo that?
“Biden didn’t do anything during his presidency!” Yes he did.
Do some research. Right now. Look at the bills he has passed. Look at the bills he has blocked. He has done much, much more than you think.
Does he support israel? Yes, and it’s awful. But your country right now? It’s in deep shit. You cannot help other people politically right now. It’s like oxygen masks on an airplane. Help yourself, then others. It sounds selfish, i’m aware, but voting trump would be like taking all the oxygen masks for yourself. It is only selfish. You really think the man willing to build a wall between America and Mexico isn’t willing to fund the hell out of a genocide? Against predominantly muslim people, the religion he has had MANY racist, vitriolic rants about? The religion he had had actual bills passed about? To stop them from coming to the country, even if they had US citizenship?
Right now you need to accept that your best option isn’t the best option for other countries suffering via US interference. That is just how it is. Change is not instant. It wasn’t yesterday, it wasn’t today and it won’t be tomorrow. What change is, is continuous and gradual. You’re looking for the equivalent of a dopamine hit. A quick fix that won’t actually fix anything in the long run since you’re putting as little effort as possible in to commit to that change.
Vote for kamala, my god. It is so easy.
I'm sorry, but I'm just too fucking old to pretend that the presidential ticket of "Person who performed some of the first gay marriages in her state while it was still federally illegal" and "governor who created a trans refuge state while other states were making it illegal to transition" is somehow 'jUsT aS bAd foR QuEer pEopLe' as the ticket promising to reverse marriage equality and make trans healthcare next to impossible.
That is such a monumentally stupid opinion that I'm going to have a hard time believing that you're actually that stupid, and I'll probably just assume you're malicious.
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falu-red-dreams · 11 months ago
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Jujutsu Kaisen movie
- wtf is slugging
- huh
- wth just happened
- DID HE JUST KILL THEM
- oh it’s the yuji room
- gojo 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
- mf thinks he’s L
- i saw a vid abt how jjk rlly drives home the fact that these r teenagers and how dark it ie that they’re fighting
- his uniform is white
- that’s interesting
- he gen looks like a 15 year old
- there’s only 3 students at jujutsu high.. damn
- BRO THEY IMMEDIATELY ATTACKED HIM
- GIRLIE GOT ENGAGED TO A CHILD
- OH MY GOD
- SHES DEAD
- WTH
- omg wth
- “i have a feeling this teachers the problem, not the students”
- maki is so emo 💀
- tsundere to the max
- he’s just leaving them to die
- SPECIAL GRADE????
- they got eaten 😭😭😭😭😭😭
- the kids r dying :((((
- she’s also been affected oh no :((((
- :((((
- he doesn’t want anyone to get hurt anymore :(((((((((
- girl ur selling him into a life of misery
- HE PUT ON THE RING
- HOMY SHIT
- RIKA?????
- jesus christ that alone is trauma
- nah wtf gojo cannot be left alone w children anymore like he’s the least responsible person out there.
- not the happy little kids scene 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲
- wait did she get hit by the car on the same day as she gave the ring????
- “then we’ll be together forever” damn
- no curse more twisted than love
- feeling that.
- OH HE LEFT HIS ID
- oh he’s right why did she turn into a mega curse
- WHY DO THEY WANNA KILL YUTA TOO
- “no one’s allowed to take youth away from young people” except gege apparently
- katana :3
- PANDA: “do u like big boobs or small boobs”
- BROOOOOOOOOO
- not panda starting a romance situation
- tbf yuta’s curse would never let him date anyone tho
- yuta is joining inumaki on a curse thingy :)))
- “if u let her out again u and i both will be killed” BRO?
- ijichi 🥰
- ooooohhh curse fish group
- inumaki 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
- oh
- there’s another curse oh no oh no
- ITS A FUCKING HIGHER LEVEL
- i knew geto was gonna be here
- OH IT I S GETO
- he looks rlly evil here damn
- still hot
- bruhhhhh
- he’s a cult leader.
- oh he’s a fascist.
- jesus
- they’re gonna go for jjh
- OH
- the girlies are here 🥰🥰🥰🥰
- HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA geto’s so dramatic 😭😭😭😭
- he’s so unserious
- i had to relisten to it in the dub but geto’s VA in the dub sounds awful oh my god
- OH NOT THE EXES
- HAHAHAHAH YUTA IS SO SHOUNEN “🥺 i can’t listen to anyone insult my friends”
- omg nanami looks so young here?
- “GOD DAMN”
- a mf war
- damnnnnnnnn
- OH WE CUTTING STRAIGHT TO IT
- OH HE WANTS TO KILL YUTA AND FHEN ABSORB YUTA
- oh
- it’s just yuta and maki together at jjh
- AHHHHH SHE BLUSHED
- he left a veil
- but now it’s just yuta and maki here oh god
- ugh gojo is so hot
- MAKI IS ON THE GROUND
- geto is so hot
- holy shit inumaki got him GOOD
- WHAT THE F U C K
- HOLY SHIT
- RIKA IS OUTTTTT
- SINCE WHEN CAN HE HEAL
- man she (rika) is so me
- holy fuckinh shit.
- yuta is a BEAST
- oh it’s the guy who died in s2
- he also died in s2 i think
- not the girlies. they hung 3 men
- gojo snapped
- OH
- ITS THE WEAPON FROM s2
- YITA IS A B E A S T
- this fuckinh fight is AWESOME
- best fight i’ve seen in a while
- HOLY SHIT
- HE BLACK FLASHED
- I THINK
- HOLY SHIT.
- GETO IS CRACKED
- nanami so sexiiii
- MIWA???????
- MECHAMARU SAVED HER
- what cuties
- oh my god what a weird looking curse
- yesss we back to yuta vs geto
- HE SAID HE LOVED HER TO RIKA
- OH MY GOD
- “aishteru yo”
- my heart can’t take this what the hell
- i’m gonna cry like actually
- am actually crying
- HE KISSED HER?
- “you womanizer”
- “that’s rude. it’s pure love”
- I CANTTTTTT
- holy fuckinh shit
- geto lost his arm.
- not gojo looking all pretty
- he’s actually so gorgeous
- he fr looks like a shoujo prince
- WHAT DID GOJO SAYYYYYYYY
- not me crying
- couldn’t even write my reaction to the end bc i was just so invested and also crying.
- holy fuckinh shit man.
- that was So Good.
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rowniebow · 2 years ago
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mercy | newt scamander x male reader
Summary: You and Newt have been put in a sticky situation. Newt has been the hot commodity lately, but you were all too ready to bargain. 
Warnings: Angst
Reader: Male, muggle
Parining(s): Newt Scamander x Male Reader
Word Count: 1.9k+
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masterlist
Your eyes focused on the cold cement ground you sat upon. Your knees were pulled to your chest. Your head was pounding from all the stress and commotion. You couldn’t help but wonder where you would be as of right now if you had denied the strange British man and stayed working at your nine-to-five factory job. Would you still reside in your pathetic, run down apartment across from Gerda who shared her butter and you shared your eggs with? Would Jerry still be belittling you about how lazy you are at your job? Yes. Most likely Jerry would still be an asshole.
But, most of all, would Newt be in this situation if it weren’t for you? You can’t help but think he would be sitting at home taking care of his creatures if it weren’t for you agreeing to join him. That, at least, is what you said to convince yourself you were okay with what was all happening. Convincing yourself you were at fault for the bad things so your “solution” to the issue - this decision you were making for the both of them - wouldn’t be as painful.
What were you to do, though? When someone shares their most vulnerable feelings with you, and you share your own, are you really supposed to just watch them up and leave without you when their hand is extended as Newt’s was? When they’re offering you an out of your miserable life, and instead an invitation to what you assumed would be a nice quiet life with someone you loved and doing things you loved with them? Are you supposed to say no to joining the person you have grown to care the most about? 
You were yanked out of your thoughts as the loud metal doors were peeled open by two large, muscular men clad in armor and wands out ready to strike if you made even one off move. You couldn’t help but wonder if all that was truly necessary for you: a small man with no capacity to fight back. Good lord, you couldn’t even get rid of spiders. All you could do was ignore them and wish them on their merry way. 
You stood, the shackles hung off of your wrists and ankles. The rusted chain clattered against the cement floors, scratching against your already pounding head. You trudged with the two large men trailing close behind you. They poked at your back every once in a while when you were dragging from exhaustion. 
You three arrived at the large wooden double doors. They creaked as the men opened it to reveal you to the man that hasn’t left your mind in years. 
You took in every aspect of Newt with a gasp. His arms were limp and pale from all the hours they had been hung up against the wall. He was on his knees, but his ankles, bloody and bruised, sat chained to the wall just as his wrists were. Blood drained out of them, you were sure they were tingling with discomfort. He didn’t look up, leaving you to look at his knotted, messy hair. Strands flew everywhere, it didn’t even have its usual shape and part. His dozens of layers of clothes had been removed. He stood limply in his tousled white button down and brown straight legged pants. Both clothing items were ripped at the seams and ruffled beyond the familiarity of Newt’s well-dressed and ironed appearance. 
“Oh, Newtie,” You groaned at the sight of him. Rage filled your veins. You suddenly began to rethink your bargain, wondering if these awful people who had already done this to him would keep their part and let him go after all this. 
Newt looked up with wide eyes at the sound of your voice echoing off of the brick walls. His eyes were swollen and red. His cheeks were patterned in purple and red. Hair fell over his forehead and into his eyes. He struggled at the chains, trying to stand up and move towards you but, of course, he was to no avail. “Y/N,” he called out hoarsely, tears threatening his eyes. You ran towards him, the guards obviously wanting to stop you but they let it happen knowing what was to come. 
“Newt, goodness, my sweet,” You cooed, lightly rubbing your hand over his wounded cheeks as you examined him. He winced slightly as you grazed the open skin but overall he refused to look away from you, shocked to see you in front of him. “Are you okay? Lord- obviously you’re not. It’s okay, alright? I-It’s gonna be over soon, okay?” You hushed your tone, wanting to save all your words for him and only him. 
His bloodied wrists caught your eye, “Can we- Can we please get this bullshit off of him? God,” You hollered out into the echoed room. The chains released themselves, magically, of course, and Newt fell into your arms. He struggled to snake his own limp limbs around your waist. You felt his shaking body and breath and nearly broke down. 
You continued to hold him close, a hand keeping his head in the crook of your neck and another keeping him upright in your arms. “I’m so sorry,” you continuously whispered into his hair that was still soft as ever despite it all. “I love you so much, I’m so sorry.” 
“Now,” A voice boomed from behind you. “Would you like to break the news to him, dearest? Or, shall I?” 
You ignored the threatening voice - the voice from the man who’s at fault for the crimes committed against the two. You only continued whispering your hushed apologies. You reassured Newt, in between quiet sniffs, that he was going to be okay and that it would all be over soon. That he wouldn’t have to worry anymore and he could continue to forget this. 
Newt, listening to your every word and absorbing it (grateful that he gets to hear it again at all), peaked over your shoulder at the presence who had walked in. Neither of the two had seen the man’s face. He stayed hidden under his black, hooded cloak. A mask sat over his face, keeping anyone from seeing him. 
Newt watched the man, blurred from his tears, take several steps in the room. After hours and hours of the torturing done to him by this man, he couldn’t even find the strength in him to do much more than look and groan. He happily let you rock yourselves back and forth as you chanted comforting phrases into his ear for only him to hear, and ran your fingers through his hair, and left your warm heavy hand in the middle of his back and rubbed it in small circles. 
“I suppose I’ll take that as a plea for me to tell him.” The voice boomed out once more. 
Your eyes couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. You quietly sobbed, muttering, “Please, don’t be mad. I love you so much, I’m so sorry.” 
“The little muggle has offered himself in exchange for your peace. For your freedom.” You could hear a smile in the man’s voice as he spoke of your bargain. You could also very clearly hear a sharp gasp from Newt, as he began to moan in disagreement. “Yes, we haven’t decided what to do with him, yet, but-! I am a generous man, myself, so I have decided to make the deal with him.” 
Newt struggled but managed to push himself away from your loving hold. “No, I-I don’t agree with this.” He managed to squeak out. His ragged voice from all the screaming you had heard him do from down the corridor shook and let a cold shake travel through your spine. 
“Yes, well,” The man with the booming voice behind you turned and made his way out of the door. “I thought I’d be kind and let you say goodbye. We’ll be back for you soon enough.” His uncaring voice sent rage through Newt. His fist clenched but he was too weak to do much of anything. 
The door slammed shut leaving you two alone with one another. “No,” Newt began but you wouldn’t let him finish.
“Love, I can’t let them hurt you anymore than they already have. Or the creatures. You get to leave with them, I made sure of that.”
“N-No, but,” He gulped, doing his best to soothe his scratchy throat. “I-I don’t get to leave with you,”
“That’s okay-,”
“No! It’s n-not okay.” His eyelids fluttered and his mouth twitched at the ends.
“Yes, it is,” You moved your hands to hold his cheeks. His head struggled to stay up with the weight of gods pushing him down. “You’re gonna be okay and the creatures are going to be okay and that’s what matters.”
“No! I-I-I won’t be okay!” He let out a pained sob. The waterfalls escaped his green eyes.
“You will. And you’ll live a nice quiet life like you said you would.” The smile that graced your lips was filled with nothing but pain and Newt saw right through that.
He stayed silent for a moment. “I don’t want to be okay without you. I don’t want to live a ‘nice quiet life’ without you. That-That is just no life at all, one without you.” 
Salty drops of water streamed down your face at his words. What could you even say to that? You’ve been telling yourself you are doing this for him but it’s not as if you would be anything less than angry if he were doing the same for you. 
“There-There must be a-another way.” Newt shook his head, refusing to believe this was the reality he was going to have to accept. He kept his eyes trained on you the whole time as he took in every detail, anxious this was going to be the last time he saw your face. He absorbed your skin and where it wrinkled. He memorized every divet in your imperfect perfect complexion. How your eyes were swollen and red from rubbing them all day. The way the light reflected off of your mesmerizing eyes. How insanely beautiful you looked in every way all of the time. He couldn’t believe he scored someone as gorgeous as you, inside and out. Fully and completely beautiful. 
“Newt,” You whispered his name, afraid if you said it any louder then the name would escape the two of you and run off somewhere it shouldn't be. “I love you. You are going to be okay. You are resilient and stubborn - I know you can do it.”
“I-I don’t want to, Y/N.” He sighed taking you in. 
“I know, I’m sorry.” You whispered as the doors burst open again with a slam. You rushed back into his arms for one final moment where you could feel safe.
“Please, don’t leave me. Don’t do this to me,” 
“I love you so much, Newtie. To the moon and back.”
“I-I love you, too.” 
The hushed words exchanged between the two were cut short as the big men came to pry you and Newt off of each other. You continued to fight to reach him, but your strength was nothing in comparison and you were only left reaching your hand out as the space between you two grew. Newt continued to scream and holler, even gathering the will to stand and jog after them. But, of course, he was overpowered by yet another unnecessarily strong guard. 
The last thing you saw of Newt was him on his knees, screaming your name and pleas for mercy.
975 notes · View notes
thebookishbruja · 2 years ago
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I've never watched Heartstopper, so in that sense, I don't go here. But in the sense that I am a bisexual with opinions, I do go here. (I saw that they forced that boy to out himself as bisexual and I have thoughts.)
I just think it's highly ironic that people have taken the inclusive, positive (as in, do something actively to add to the world) concept of 'Own Voices' and made it exclusive, negative (take away stories, police people's identities), and then used it for clout, pretending that they have any moral authority.
LMAO THAT'S ABSURD. YOU ARE ABSURD.
The entire point of 'Own Voices', and having people tell their own stories is to bring more people into the fold. It is to prevent the all too common bullshit of studios and publishing companies and powerful straight white men, of benefiting from marginalized communities while at the same time, leaving them out in the cold.
The point of Own Voices is to put a stop to the common Hollywood phenomenon of "oh look at that brave straight man willing to debase himself and play gay for a role" and lauding him with awards. Meanwhile gay men can't even get in the door because 'you're too femme' or 'no one will believe you as a straight man.'
The point of Own Voices is to address the fact that there are a ton of unemployed trans people because 'we don't know what to do with you' and 'we don't think you are versatile enough to play cis people' or 'we don't need any 'niche' writers, thank you' meanwhile they've got cis people picking up Oscars for the 'brave incredible' act of pretending to be trans for a few months. It's having people lining up to suck you off because 'oh look how much you care about those people' but in real life, they wouldn't piss on them if they were on fire.
The issue is, the vast unemployment problem for visibly queer people, and then, us having to watch the people who exclude them parade around acting like their savior.
The answer is always…if the money is flowing, you need to make sure little dams are not being built to keep it from flowing to the communities you are profiting from.
The solution is to make sure marginalized people are in the room in positions of influence, so that the characters aren't mocked. To make sure the stories are told in an authentic manner.
If you are telling queer stories and you haven't got any queer people on the project? That's a problem. If you are making money off communities and excluding them? That's a problem.
Own Voices is a principle that targets the capitalist element of producing art. It looks at the people who fund the project. It takes into account makeup of the project over all. It makes sure that the capital is flowing to the places it is benefiting from.
IT IS NOT an exclusionary principle of 'you have to be of that exact queer identity in order to depict that queer identity'. That's literally absurd. It inhibits empathy. It restricts storytelling. And, it goes in the dead opposite direction of where we want to go!!
AND it is actively homophobic and destructive and malicious, because it leads to policing people's identities. It leads to outing people. It leads to reductive, predatory, behavior, it leads to harassment. And for bisexual people, it creates this constant hostile environment of we cannot just be. We cannot just exist. We have to keep proving ourselves.
I remember when I told one of my friends that I was bisexual. (I talked about this in my day of bi visibility post) She told me she didn't believe me. That all girls like to kiss girls for boys attention and for fun. She told me when I ate pussy, she'd believe me. (lmaooooosob I know!) And this is a common common common attitude towards bisexual people. "I don't believe you. Perform a sex act." PEOPLE I'M NOT KIDDING THIS IS ABSURDLY AWFUL AND HORRIBLE AND YES SOMETIMES FEELS DARKLY COMEDIC BUT IT IS SO HARMFUL AND IT IS SO COMMON. STOP IT.
Now, is there nuance to the question of casting queer people in queer roles? Yes. Of course. As a feminist I would be remiss to not mention trans women. (actual feminists give a fuck about all women not just cis women, just, you know, for the record) For example, with trans women, the most overbearing stereotype of trans women is that they are men in disguise. There are quite literally legal defenses that are built on it that have (and continue to allow) men to murder trans women and escape punishment in America. That they are just men under women's clothes, tricking you. Waiting to spring the truth on you. They are literally murdered behind this vicious bigotry. When you have a cis man playing a trans woman, you risk feeding into that stereotype.
Now. There is more nuance on top of that. If the project involves trans people, trans women are writing it, is it well done, is it humanizing? It may have value! But people also aren't obligated to feel overjoyed about it either. People are allowed to point out that connection and to prefer to see a trans woman in a trans woman role.
BUT THERE IS LITERALLY NO NUANCE ANYWHERE that allows you to take this concept of own voices, and use it to say "you must always be x to portray/write x or we will harass you." THERE IS NO EXPLANATION ANYWHERE that allows you to require people to 'prove' their identities to you. There is LITERALLY NO WIGGLE ROOM for you to demand people to perform sexual or romantic acts for you to 'prove' who they are. That is disgusting. And it is actively hostile to bisexual people.
And when you fix your fingers to get on twitter and say that a boy (HE IS BARELY 18) is APPROPRIATING queer identity because he hasn't fucked a dude for you on camera, I mean lol you don't give a fuck about queer people. STFU lmaooo. You don't look like Marsha P Johnson, you don't look like Harvey Milk. You look like a petty, small minded little asshole with too much time on their hands, trying to get clout on the internet. (I also suspect there is some horny fetishizing behavior at play there because people want to watch him kiss other boys. This is the whole....please understand the difference between fiction and reality. Enjoy fictional queer relationships all you want. Find men hot together all you want. But do not treat REAL LIFE ACTUAL men and boys like they are your little performing dolls ffs. Gross, people. Gross!!)
Anyway,
YOU DO NOT HAVE TO BE QUEER TO PLAY QUEER. We can demand broad and consistently inclusive projects, AND not be utter assholes and police people's identities. I promise you. We can. In fact, it is perfectly logical, consistent and normal. We can include gay men and bisexual men in projects that depict them, without bullying children. I promise you that. It's easy. It's simple as pie my dears.
And if you get online and use the language of social justice to be a heinous little bully, I hope you know everyone else can see you for what you are. No one thinks you're smart or that you care about social justice. You're just a clout chasing asshole and you need to stop.
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icaruskey · 2 years ago
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I’ve cracked the code guys. 
You know how such a big fuss is made about trans men choosing to go stealth and don’t associate with the queer community (ignoring that trans women will also go stealth and leave the queer community for reasons)?
I was ranting to B how that person I screenshotted
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This one. The one comparing PCOS to cancer because a trans guy dared to talk about how demonizing testosterone is bio-essentialism and I called her out on it
So I’m ranting, all but yelling because I’m having a sugar drop and am pissed, talking about how if I brought up periods this woman would somehow still make it about herself and how I should (but I’m not) should reply to this saying something like “yeah you’re right they’re different socially wide hips leads to sexual assault while a deep voice leads to physical assault”
I’m not going to reply to her but I SO BADLY DO because hey what about cis women with naturally deep voices? Why the fuck are you comparing PCOS to C A N C E R 
anyway so I’m ranting and I’m like *lightbulb* 
Trans men who can and do go stealth don’t just do that because if they look cis (and maybe even het, I mean can we talk about how ace and bi people in “““straight passing””” relationships are treated at pride and group events) they get more or less excluded from pride groups 
they don’t do that just because they can get away from all the awful bullshit that they lived through as women or women lite 
If you’re out as a trans man you’re not seen as a dude in the general public. You’re seen as a woman. In some cases you’re seen as a trans woman. 
Like. Oh no. I get the chance to not be harassed and sexually assaulted because some idiot decides its on them to show me how I’m wrong about my gender identity and rapes me. Or verbally harass me and tell me I’m destroying my precious womb. 
Yeah I’m going to take that. 
But being stealth doesn’t give me some mystical male privilege. It’s not a privilege if it takes one wrong word and it’s taken away. It’s just not. 
My whiteness? Privilege. You can’t take those away from me. It’s in my skin, it’s embedded in my DNA. 
My maleness? It’s not a privilege, whether or not you think I pass flawlessly. Because all it takes is one person to know the “truth” of my maleness and then it’s gone. 
And that’s still not touching on the lack of safety that happens when you’re out and proud. There’s a reason why people choose to stay in the closet. And why is it suddenly considered a privilege because your closet happens to kinda sorta let you go through society in a way that lets people marginally accept who you are?
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randynova · 3 years ago
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♡𝓜𝔂 𝓦𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷♡
𝓖𝓾𝓷 𝔁 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻
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𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝐴𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝐺𝑢𝑛 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑡𝑜 𝐺𝑜𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑠 ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒.
✦✦✦ ✦✦✦
𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔(𝑠):𝐹𝑒𝑚!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡(𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑝)! 𝐺𝑢𝑛
✦✦✦ ✦✦✦
“Why couldn’t this have waited until another day?” Gun muttered, unbuttoning his shirt, letting it slide off his taut frame, and neatly folding it, placing it onto the roof of his car. He was glad he hadn't put his jacket on, having left it in his passenger seat. “I can’t dirty my clothes again, [Name] will be mad if I get blood on it.” He rolled his broad shoulders until they released a satisfying crack, his thick muscles bulging as he stretched his arms across his scarred chest. Gun peered at a nearby store, the digital clock displaying in big white numbers, ‘7:45 PM’. He groaned, his lips curling into a scowl whilst his arms fell to his side. He didn’t have enough time to deal with this.
“Hmm, and it’s almost time for our date. Fuck.” Gun whispered to himself. He clenched his fists, narrowing his eyes at the man across from him. He removed his shades and revealed his dark gaze, placing his favorite accessory to his side as well. “I’ll make this quick, Goo. I have more important places to be.”
Goo laughed, grinning in his spot as he balanced a pole in his hands. He rolled his eyes, arching a brow at his partner. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Gun, maybe if you didn’t spend all your time by [Name]’s side, we could have dealt with this matter much earlier. That girl has you wrapped around her pretty little finger, huh?”
“Shut it,” Gun said, already racing towards the blonde and thrusting his fist, knuckles colliding with metal. Upon the cold sensation meeting his skin, he wanted to absolutely kill Goo and rip him to shreds. This would take longer than he wanted, wasting his already precious, short time. He backed off, having a considerable distance between the two, stretching his fingers a few times before clenching them again. He growled, spitting venomously,  “You just like picking fights.” 
“You did too. Before you met her, y’know,” Goo tutted, waving his finger in the air. He scoffed, voice low, “Who would’ve thought? Gun going soft for a girl. Psh, pathetic. Never thought I’d live to see the day...” The blonde trailed off, his face becoming stoic, his mind wandering. You truly had to be someone exceptional if you managed to have a guy like Gun to fall for you. He always wondered who you were, how you looked like, what you did, but Gun had kept you a secret from the world of crime. He hid almost every known trace abou you and tied every loose end that implicated you existed. No one knew who you were and no one could find you — unless Gun allowed them to. 
Goo found it so irritating how he was unable to know the girl who made such a notorious gangster go soft. 
He only met you once and that was by pure sheer luck; dropping by unexpectedly at one of Gun's apartments, only to be met with the sight of you. Seeing how Gun reacted, he knew you were supposed to be kept hush-hush. But boy, did he have a field day the next time he saw the man.
Goo had to meet you again. Or at least, know you more.
Only when Gun’s fist connected with Goo’s face did the man snap out of his thoughts, the impact of such force throwing him a few feet backwards. He dug his feet into the floor, a high-pitched screech coming from his shoes as the rubber burned against the pavement. With his sleeve, Goo wiped his cheek, seeing a speck of blood staining his clothes. Goo chuckled, standing up straight with a grin, “If I can remember right, you told me you got Eli Jang in trouble for basically the same thing. What was her name again? Heather?”
Goo blocked the upcoming attack, his pole raised and crossed above his face. He pushed Gun back with an effortless swing of the pole. He tilted his head and scratched the back of his head with his free hand. “How is [Name] any different from Heather? What does she have on you?”
Gun twisted his neck gently until he heard a crack, looking back at Goo as he hissed with venom, “Nothing.”
“Let me think, let me think….” Goo hummed, racking his mind for any possibility that someone like Gun would stay with a woman longer than one night. His face lit up and he broke out into a wide grin, pointing a finger at Gun. “Aha! You got the poor girl knocked up, right?! See, I always tell you to wear protection! Just couldn’t keep it in your pants, hm? Shaaame.” 
“Ugh, fuck no. I don’t want kids and neither does she. We made that clear at the beginning," Gun said with a sneer, annoyed beyond comprehension at Goo's antics. 
“Awe, I really thought she held something over you. How about this: I’ll stop fighting you if you tell me why you’re still with such a pretty girl like [Name]? Deal?" Goo offered, slinging the pole onto his shoulder. His eyes darkened as he spat maliciously, knowing each word would wind and rile Gun's emotions. "She deserves better than a perverted gangster, you both know that.”
Gun stayed silent, the corners of his lips tugging down into a frown. Goo’s last words struck a chord in him, sending a pang through his heart upon hearing an insecurity he’ll never admit to. Of course. Everyone told you to stay away from a man like Gun. People kept telling you you will only get hurt in the end, that a better man will come along and sweep you off your feet if you just waited, or you could always do better than him. But you never listened. You stayed by his side, even when the whole world looked down on you two. Even for months, he tried convincing himself he felt nothing for you, but after a while, he finally accepted that someone managed to tear down his walls and enter his hollow, cold heart — you. 
You were just a different kind of girl - no- a different kind of woman. A special woman he had the pleasure of meeting. One he wouldn’t dare let go of now that he has the privilege of calling you ‘mine’. And by any god out there, he won’t be a stupid fool to lose you.
Gun sighed. “I tell you and you’ll put this stupid fight behind us, right?”
Goo placed a hand over his chest, replying shortly, “You have my word.~”
“[Name] is just that special person you meet once in your life. One you know you can’t let go of because there isn’t another like her. Simple as that.”
“What?! Ugh, don’t be boring! Tell me more!”
“You asked why I  stayed with her and I told you.”
“Yeah, but I expected a story, not some sad attempt at an old man’s wise words.”
A low guttural sound rumbled in Gun’s throat, his eye twitching. “Maybe when I’m in a better mood I’ll tell you, but if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with my woman.”
Goo groaned and tossed his pole to the side, rolling his eyes and grumbling, "Fiiine, but you owe me a story. "
"Whatever—damnit," Gun looked at the clock once again and his face contorted into one of pure irate. "I'm late."
'8:12 PM'
✦✦✦ ✦✦✦
Your head rested on your hand, balancing a glass of wine between your fingers, twirling the cup as the liquid swished around. Your eyes were looking down on the glory of Gangdong, the shimmering, blinding lights of the city mesmerizing you. The city always looked beautiful at this time of night. You just wished you could enjoy it with the person you cherished. A sigh leaves your lips and you look away, eyes trailing to the other tables over the balcony. 
The lingering eyes of many strange men didn't faze you anymore, the two burly boys surrounding your table always making them avert their gaze as fast as it landed. A courtesy of your boyfriend, who was at least thirteen minutes late, who insisted on you needing to be guarded at all times. You knew if he were here, no one would dare to even breathe in your direction, let alone glance. 
The cool air pricked your skin and a shiver passed through your body, reminding you of where you were. For a man as smart as him, Gun tended to neglect keeping the season in mind when planning your dates. Nonetheless, you were happy he went out of his way to take you out on such a busy schedule. 
You jumped in your seat, snapping out of your thoughts. A jacket was wrapped around your frame, warmth immediately enveloping you as the fabric made contact with your bare skin. You looked up and smiled. 
Gun stood behind you, towering over your sitting form as he made sure you were nice and covered. His coat basically swallowed you whole. A small stuffed animal was tucked under his arm, it’s fluffy fur peeking out. He walked over to take his seat, pulling the chair out, and wasting no time to slip in. He waved to the guards and they nodded, beginning to clear the scene of people.
“Sorry I’m late, [Name],” Gun started, taking the stuffie out from underneath his arm and presenting it to you. Oh, how adorable. "I brought you a gift as an apology."
A small brown otter sat in his palms, barely taking up Gun's hands. It’s beady, plastic eyes looked straight at you, a little smile stitched onto its snout. A snort left you. The sight of such a well-dressed, intimidating man carrying such an adorable toy was  amusing. "Really now? Just a cute toy, Gun?"
Gun sighed and sat up a bit from his chair, leaning over the table, and cupping your face as he planted a gentle kiss on your cheek. As quick as it started, Gun's lips left and he was seated once again. You pout. "Don't give me that look, [Name]. We can do more at home if you want but not here."
"It's not wrong to be disappointed in no kiss on the mouth after not seeing your boyfriend for such a long time. Don't you think I deserve it?"
Gun smirked, placing his shades on the table and taking your hand, intertwining your fingers together. He gave a light squeeze and you didn't miss a beat as you squeezed his coarse hand back. The way you pursed your lips and looked at him with such glossy, innocent eyes made his heart swell. With such a pretty, cute face, it was hard to say no to you. "Hmm, maybe. But Olly told me you crossed paths with Hostel A." Gun spoke, slipping his hands from yours and picking up his dinnerware, quickly cutting the savory meat into pieces. He didn't hesitate to put a piece up to your mouth, a hand underneath so as to not have the juice leak. "I was told you nearly broke the Uncles' bones and Big Daddy himself."
Your face scrunched up and you scoffed, shaking your head. You placed the stuffed animal to the side, petting it. "Figured those assholes wouldn’t tell you everything. The ‘uncles’ wouldn’t leave me alone and I thought Olly was another one of those bastards,” you snap, sitting back in your seat with a scowl. “How was I supposed to know he was trying to help when he dresses like that? I thought he was trying to assault me for God’s sake!”
Gun placed down his fork on his plate and his face twisted into one of fury, eyes turning cold and rigid as all the warmth disappeared whilst his lips curled back into a nasty frown. You almost thought his infamous scowl was directed towards you, but you knew better. You dear boyfriend wouldn't dare lay a single finger on you if it didn't bring you pleasure. "They what?" 
You smiled softly, placing your hand over his as it clenched into a fist. With your small attempt at trying to soothe him by rubbing small circles, you spoke with a bit of hesitation, "Ah, yeah. They kept trying to get my number and wouldn't let me leave the booth I was in. I had no other choice than to use the training you taught me. Since I never met Olly, I really thought he was just another one of them and I reacted before thinking, making me attack him too."
Gun scoffed, shaking his head as he listened to your explanation with disbelief, every word fueling his rage of someone daring to hit on his woman. Every fiber in Gun's body screamed, wanting to feel their skin underneath his fists as he pounded them into oblivion. But the only thing stopping him was his date with you. For now, he'll put his anger aside to be with you and keep you happy. Who knows how long he'll be gone and when he'll see you again. The man has to make every second count. 
Yet, he couldn’t let this go unpunished.
"Fuck." Gun leans closer to you and sits on the edge of his chair. Placing his hand over yours, he slips his fingers to grasp your palm, and lifts your hand to his lips, pressing tender kisses against your knuckles. His thumb grazing softly across your fingers and his eyes flutter shut. You couldn't help but stare in awe, never quite seeing him like this.
So careful with you, so gentle, you were surprised he wasn't seething in his seat and threatening to break their heads open. Gun opens his eyes and looks up at you, shaking in his seat. “I promise I’ll have those fuckers begging on their knees for your forgiveness. They should know better than to treat a woman with such rudeness and disrespect. Shit, I’ll go right now. I’ll beat them till-”
Your sweet laugh reaches his ears, cutting him off from his little speech. You lean in and pull in his hand to your lips, pressing a tender peck to his coarse knuckles. Gun felt his heart race and skip a beat at the sight, shock crossing his features. You look up, looking at your boyfriend with mirthful eyes. “As much fun as that sounds, I'd rather you stay here. Please? I want to spend as much time with you before you go back to work.”
The man stayed silent for a few seconds, taking in your words. He looked away, clicking his tongue before he broke out into a small smile, a blush blooming across his cheeks and the tip of his ears burning a bright red. “Of course, [Name]. Though, you could’ve just said you like spending time with me.”
Giggling, you lower your hands and shake your head. “Gun, of course I like spending time with you. You’re my favorite person and I love you after all.” Your voice said those three words with such fondness, it’s as if the man was in a dream. 
If your words from before didn’t send Gun over the edge, your proclamation of love surely did now. He looked down, grinning like an idiot, showing a soft, bashful side he’s never revealed to anyone before. He swore his heart would jump out of his throat from how fast it was pounding against his ribcage. Gun grasped your hand tightly and sighed blissfully, Gently, he spoke, gazing at you with loving eyes, “I love you too.”
You smiled.
The tension in the air grew to be too much and both of you found it unbearable, wanting to do what both of you have been waiting for for weeks.
Both of you sat up and leaned over the table, closing the gap between you two as your lips interlocked, slipping together like if you were made for eachother. The kiss sparked and fed the fire both of you held in your hearts, burning brighter with every moment you spent at one another’s side. Gun couldn’t help but smile against your mouth.
As much as he hated being apart from you for so long, moments like these made the long hours worth it. If working so much meant he could provide for you, then he wouldn't mind doing it for the rest of his life if you had a roof over your head and a nice, warm meal at night.
Afterall, you were his woman.
And he loved you.
✦✦✦✦✦✦
©𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 || 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛��𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 || 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚝𝚌. 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 .
✦✦✦✦✦✦
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lubdubsworld · 3 years ago
Text
物の哀れ ( ‘the sadness of things’.)
Alpha Jungkook x Omega Oc!
Genre : Angst , Hurt/ Comfort.
    Chapter 1  ⋆  Chapter 2  ⋆  Chapter 3     Chapter 4  ⋆  Chapter 5   ⋆   
    Chapter 6   Chapter 7     Chapter 8
Summary : Nine months after her marriage ends, Kim Heejin is a reclusive artist, who works out of a renovated warehouse in Busan, her days and nights spent with canvas and paint. Its exactly what she’s ever wanted, to be left alone. And yet, that nagging feeling of incompletion keeps her on her toes. And perhaps, it is that longing for something substantial, something real that pushes her to give her flawed but lovable ex-husband another chance.
Chapter 9
 “I… No. Just… please tell him I’ll be down…I’ll come down to the lobby to meet him.” I said quickly, panicking at the idea of having him here. I’d barely been here a day but this was still my space. And if I had him here then his scent would just seep into every nook and corner. 
The room would smell like him then… And what would I do after he left?
God, what was I even thinking? Head swimming, I crawled to the edge of the bed and breathed shakily. 
It felt surreal, climbing out of the bed and moving to the vanity . I stared at myself in the mirror as I grabbed the makeup bag I kept with me all the time. Wide eyes and parted lips, creamy gold skin turning lily white because of how the blood had just drained after that phone call. 
I looked petrified .
Jungkook… I thought numbly. Jungkook’s waiting downstairs and I’m going to see him. 
What is he thinking.... What is he feeling... why is he even here? 
You’re not responsible for his emotions, Taehyung’s soothing voice in my head helped a bit but not a whole lot. What about my emotions, I though desperately, grabbing the tube of gloss and slowly uncapping it. I ran the end of it over my lips and felt my fingers tremble because I didn’t know why I felt this need …to look beautiful.
I didn’t need to, I though miserably. Everyone knew omegas were beautiful. Beta supermodels were beautiful yes but they couldn’t hold a candle to me, at least for someone like  Jungkook. He was an alpha, his brain was built to find me attractive. I had evolutionary genetics on my side, which mean that if I ever actually wanted to seduce Jungkook , he wouldn’t really stand a chance .
But I didn’t want that.
I had had enough of that. Enough of seeing handsome, rich alphas being reluctantly attracted to me. They made it obvious too. Most of the hate mail I got stemmed from angry wives or girlfriends accusing me of seducing their men , even though  I’d never so much as laid my eyes on them. It was so unfair. 
I didn’t enjoy watching them lose their minds at the sight and scent of me, because i knew that deep down,  they thought that all omegas were scum. 
Manipulative, sex driven , greedy and selfish . Those were the labels I got plastered with , on the media and on the streets. 
And Jungkook wasn’t different, I reminded myself firmly, pulling away from the mirror and grabbing the loose powder and dusting down some of it on the apple of my cheeks and down the length of my nose. 
He didn’t think any different than the others. Jungkook’s views on omegas were just as archaic and bigoted as everyone else’s .
He just didn’t act on them .
Sighing, I dropped the lipgloss back in the back and brushed my hair off my face. On a whim , I pulled off the hair tie holding the thick strands together, letting the wavy tresses fall over my shoulder. I hadn’t cut my hair in a long time and it felt to my hips now. My stylist was adamant that it added to my aesthetic.
  A primal siren, she had said staring at me in awe, like something eternal and beautifully dangerous. We’re lucky you seem incapable of hate, Heejin ...because I think you could bring grown men to their knees with that body and that face. 
I felt nauseous at the thought of it.   
Walking to the elevator felt like walking the plank and I had stop a couple of times, just to breathe deeply. I had to be smart about this. I was in therapy. Taehyung had taught me how to handle situations like this and while my heart was pounding too hard and my brain was too scrambled to use any of his therapy techniques, I still had some of my cognitive abilities intact. 
He came here, i thought desperately. 
He came looking for you and that means he isn’t nervous or worried or overthinking this because he doesn’t have feelings for you. If you want to come out of this  unscathed, you need to get your head on straight. You need to pretend that you didn’t just have a minor mental breakdown at the thought of him dating someone else. 
I took a deep breath, exhaling sharply before stepping into the elevator. The ride down to the lobby was barely a few seconds and when I stepped out, I realized the place was way too crowded for such an exclusive Hotel. And then I remembered that people were here for the Art Festival. I glanced at the reception desk, covertly, noting a conspicuous lack of Jeon Jungkook. The lady behind the desk held her hand up when she spotted me .
“Ms. Kim? Mr. Jeon just went to get you a drink...He’s over by the breakfast counter over there.” She pointed out the dining space where people were walking about getting breakfast and I swallowed, feeling hot and cold as I cautiously stepped into the crowd, trying to find a that familiar head of thick dark hair. 
I felt the apprehension build as I tugged on my bottom lip between my teeth, trying to reign in the chaos in my mind but it was impossible, everything too loud and too messy. I looked around and then, it hit me. 
His scent. 
I felt my lips part in surprise, and it felt like someone had turned the volume down , noises fading into a dull hum at the back of my mind as I stared at him. He hadn’t spotted me yet and I took a second to just....look.
He looked incredible.
There was really no other word for it. Incredibly handsome, Incredibly beautiful and so incredibly perfect as the late morning sun lit up the room, picking out the shine on his white silk shirt. I breathed in deep, my mindeasily picking out the musky pine scent of him and I stepped closer, moving straight towards him and I caught the exact moment my scent his senses.
He jerked a bit, nostrils flaring and eyes going wide before he turned, lips parted and gaze a bit unfocused as he looked around.
When he caught sight of me, he just blinked. 
I smiled weakly, body going limp with relief because.... because this was Jungkook. Not some monster I had to run from. This was Jungkook....even at his worst he had been better than some of the other people I’d met in life. 
I looked down at the drink in his hand and smiled a bit as he made his way over. 
“ This isn’t the same as buying me a coffee.” I said shakily as he finally stepped upto me.
His eyes danced with warmth. 
“What makes you think I can afford one? Besides, aren’t you the hotshot artist? Shouldn’t you be the one buying me stuff?” He said softly. 
“Just saw you on the front cover of a magazine. We both know you’re far from destitute..” Even through the smile, I felt the tug of emotion as I stared at him, felt the difference in him like night and day, the light and joy and ...contentment that seemed to radiate off him .
He smiled and held the drink out to me gently.
“ Heejin-ah.” He whispered. 
And somehow it was the sound of his voice, wrapping around the syllables of my name that finally did it. 
I felt the tears brim over, my lips parting in choked laughter as I stepped close and wrapped both my arms around him, burying my face in his neck and breathing him in. I felt him hold me, infinitely gentle and I exhaled sharply.
“I didn’t miss you,  at all.” I said shakily. He laughed lightly. 
“I missed you , too.” He stroked the back of my head gently and I sighed, fingers curling on the silk of his shirt. The fabric felt like liquid in my fingers and I played with it for a second, intensely aware that people were starting to stare. That this embrace had gone on for longer than social norms dictated but I couldn’t bring myself to care, letting my chin rest against his shoulder blades. 
And it was almost frightening.....how easy it was to pretend we weren’t broken at all. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“She was so small when I last held her... I can’t believe she’s running around.” I said, awed, listening to Jungkook tell me about how Mina liked to climb everywhere. He laughed, shaking his head. 
"She’s growing bigger everyday. I can barely keep up.” Jungkook smiled, holding a hand out for me to step over the wooden slats that lined the tiny archway that led to the door to his building. I hesitated before lightly gripping his hand in mine, the gesture somehow feeling more intimate that it was. 
“You’re not staying at the Firenze?” I asked curiously, resisting the urge to reach for his hand again when he let go.
it was such a ridiculous thing but I’d never held hands with him. And It felt ridiculously nice, to slot my fingers with his, feel them in between mine. His palm against mine, calloused but somehow so comforting. 
 I’d forgotten how warm he was.
 Don’t. Don’t fall down this rabbit hole again, Heejin. We talked about this. He doesn’t think of you that way. He doesn’t. And neither should you. its unfair to him. He doesn’t deserve that. 
“No... As you can see my apartment is barely ten minutes away and Soeun has her exams so its easier for her to watch over Mina here at the apartment.
“Soeun?” I asked curiously.
“Park Soeun? She’s a University student who lives with me. She’s doing a correspondence course in fashion . So she’s home all the time and she helps out with Mina. And she speaks Italian so that’s a huge plus... ” He smiled. “ you’ll like her. She’s a good kid.” 
 Don’t make that face. Don’t fucking make that face, Heejin.
I struggled to keep my face straight , like I wasn’t feeling the weight of a dozen bricks at the base of my stomach. 
“A roommate...then..?” I asked quietly and he shrugged.
“Something like that. But mostly she helps take care of Mina when I’m out on an assignment.” He smiled and led me past two flight of stairs up to the studio apartment. 
I wrapped my arms around myself as he stopped in front of a wrought iron grill, gripping one end and sliding it open with ease. And then he rang the small bell n the side. I shuffled back and forth on my foot, heart racing. 
The door opened and I blinked because of how young the girl who opened the door was. A second later she was beaming, moving forward and wrapping both her arms around me.
“Unnie!” She squealed, hugging me so close that I almost choked. Completely thrown I could only gape at Jungkook who was laughing . 
“Oh, I forgot to mention..she’s a bit of a fan. “ He teased lightly and I smiled awkwardly, watching as she pulled back to stare at me, her gaze trained on my face unblinkingly. 
“Whoa...” She reached out and lightly touched my cheek with her forefinger making me jump. She flinched as well, flushing red.
“Shit..sorry...I just... I’ve never... I’ve never met an omega before.” She said softly. “ You’re absolutely breathtaking.”
I felt my heart pound, steeping back instinctively, an overwhelming urge to hide , anxiety pooling in my stomach as she continued to stare at me. I hated the attention and I wrapped my arms around myself. 
“Soeun, enough. Don’t make it weird.” Jungkook said sternly, voice hard and the girl immediately flushed, bowing apologetically. 
“Sorry...I.. sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable ... You’re pretty.” She said again before turning to Jungkook.
“I have to get some stuff for my exhibit, Jungkook oppa... Mina’s asleep. i’ll be staying over at Vince’s place for the night though. Is that okay?”
“Sure..have fun.” Jungkook smiled, “ Vince is her boyfriend.” He explained and Soeun nodded happily. 
“Italian men are absolutely amazing unnie...you should try some.” She winked and I laughed despite myself.
“I just might...” I said with a grin, watching as she walked over to slip on a pair of sneakers from the small shoe closet near the door. She waved enthusiastically all but bouncing away and I blinked at him , shaking my head.
“I feel a hundred years old right now.” I said softly, still stunned by the girl’s exorbitant energy. Jungkook laughed at that
“She definitely has that effect on people... Come on, I’ll show you around.” He held his hand out and I smiled , taking his fingers mine and letting him tug me further into the studio apartment. 
I looked around, taking in the full blown prints of Mina and Jungkook , caught in adorable poses in front of different tourist spots in Florence. I saw how much she looked like Jungkook now, and how openly affectionate they looked together, the love evident even in the still photos. 
And then my eyes fell on a familiar painting , my stomach lurching. 
“You... “ i turned to him in a rush and he was staring at me with a small smile.
“I had to bring that. It pretty much saved me, that painting.” He said casually, stepping close and running his fingers all over the print. 
“When you told me this is how Sooah saw me...” He traced the picture carefully before glancing at me,” it made me realize that Sooah didn’t just want a baby.....she wanted a baby with  me. She saw me as a father. As someone who could raise and nurture a tiny human  and that... that’s amazing isn’t it?” He sighed, staring at me.  
He looked beautiful, I thought with an ache deep inside me. The most beautiful man I’d ever seen in my life and it seemed almost too good to be true. That he was here, at reach. So close. I wondered if this was it. This had to be a sign. A sign that we’d come full circle. That it was over. That we could finally break free from all that we’d been through, and look back at Jungkook’s past with fondness instead of pain.
And perhaps, just perhaps I could reach out and touch him with something more than just the love you have for a friend. . Perhaps I could reach out and touch him, without feeling guilt and foreboding.
I exhaled shakily stepping up and running my fingers over the canvas. It was nothing fancy... Just a painting a painting of Jungkook holding Mina up by her waist, high over his head, staring up into her face with all the love and adoration in the world, The child in the painting doesn’t look exactly like Mina, of course, but I’d had no idea , seeing as Sooah had commissioned the painting when she was pregnant. But Jungkook.... Jungkook looked exactly like he did now : Happy and at peace. 
“You’re alright, then?” I asked quietly , a wealth of meaning behind the words and he smiled , nodding gently. 
“I’m fine…” He whispered , “ And I’m so glad I can tell you that, like this. Thank you for coming , Heejin-ah . I know you owe me nothing but.. I wanted to show you that… it wasn’t all bad you know. What we went through… Something good did come out of it.” He whispered.
I choked out a sob.
“I lied.” I whispered. “ I did miss you. Even when I knew I shouldn’t.”
Jungkook’s gaze softened.
“I have a lot to be sorry for. But I don’t want to remind you of those things. I just want you to know that… I understand what you went through…those six months. I understand that it was difficult and painful and i… I’m grateful that you didn’t give up on me. And I’m grateful that you stayed in my life.  Because I know I didn’t deserve that.”
“You deserve to be loved Jungkook.” I said quietly. “ Its not wrong to move on. You deserve to… find happiness again.”
He stared at me, his gaze soft and gentle.
“I can almost believe it, when you say it that way.” He laughed. “ And… you know… I’m not sure if its love. But there’s someone I’ve been…. Well, I can sort of see myself with her. .” He grinned a little, smile boyish as he ran his fingers through his hair. He glanced at me and I felt my heart skip a beat.
Wait… was he going to?....
“ I met her at Taehyung’s practice, a year ago. Her name is Lee Hyorin.” Jungkook looked at me, doe eyes shining with excitement.
And just like that the world ended.
Or so it felt.
It was like being dipped in icy cold water, the shock of it rendering me speechless, lips parted and breath catching in lungs.
Blood rushed through my ears, so fast that I felt lightheaded, my legs nearly giving out. White noise filled my skull, pain lancing sharp through my heart like a thousand paper cuts, and I couldn’t really breathe. It took a few seconds…. For my heart to catch up with what my mind had just processed. And when it finally did, the pain was so excruciating, I had to clench my fists, nails digging into the flesh of my palm to ground myself.
“She’s an alpha…and she lost her husband around the same time Sooah passed..” Jungkook gave me a soft smile. “ She’s actually a curator at one of the museums here. She’s the one who made all the arrangements for me to move here to Florence. ”
“Wow… That’s…” devastating,. “ That’s good news. Jungkook.. I.. How long…” My voice cracked, and I had to swallow. “ How long have you guys been dating?”
“About three months now. We’re taking it very slow, because we aren’t really ready. She has a son too. He’s three years old. Mina loves him so that’s a plus.” He laughed.
My lungs constricted, breathing difficult and my head swam because ….. what. Realization set in so quickly, I was left reeling. I was in love with this bastard, I thought miserably. So in love with him that it felt like he was shredding my heart into ribbons. Every word of his mouth felt like a sharp deep stab, straight through the center of my heart and the pulsing, beating organ was on the verge of giving out.
“She’s going to be there at the dinner tonight at the Festival. She’s one of the organizers by the way. She’s kind of the reason I got in, I think.” He laughed , looking abashed and what a load of bull that was. Jungkook was successful and well known. Superbly talented at his chosen field. She was lucky to have him.
How can she have him when I’m the one who fixed him? How is that fucking fair?
“She really understands the things I’ve been going through, the past few months and because we both still attend therapy with Taehyung, we’re able to talk about a lot of stuff. Stuff I can’t share with others…” Jungkook was saying and I tuned him out, not wanting to hear another word.
I swallowed, choking on bile. I could feel sweat gathering on my scalp, my skin clammy and damp , the air between us shifting into something poisonous and filled with so much dismay, it was a miracle he hadn’t picked up on it.
Couldn’t he sense how distressed I was? Couldn’t he see how his words were hurting? Couldn’t he fucking see that I couldn’t live without him? Why on earth couldn’t he see me the way he apparently saw every other woman on the damn planet…..
Because he’s a shitty Alpha, I thought miserably, willing myself not to burst into tears. He was a shitty excuse for an alpha back then and he’s the same now.
A low, distressed cry began somewhere behind him and he jumped.
“Oh, shit she’s up… come on, Heejin.” He said with a bright smile, turning around and rushing down a small hallway and I willed myself to breathe in deeply, reminding myself that this wasn’t the end of the world. I could get through this. Besides, it was Mina.
Beautiful, perfect Mina who had been there for me. She would see me and she would give me that sweet gummy smile of hers, does eyes twinkling and I would get through this. Because her smile was what was important. Her smile and her joy and her happiness.
The sobbing had slowed down to small hiccups and I stepped past the threshold cautiously, watching as Jungkook bent over the large crib, carefully lifting her out and into his arms. She looked breathtaking, an absolutely gorgeous little girl . I stared, mesmerized as I stepped closer. My arms ached, and my chest tightened. Lips wobbling, I exhaled sharply, moving to reach for her.
She turned to glance at me and just as my fingers brushed her cheek, she recoiled.
Hard.
A loud wail tore through her tiny body and I felt my eyes go wide. Her casual little cry had turned into a sobbing , loud wail and I could smell the distress in her , the fear and distrust as she curled away from me.  Jungkook looked stunned as well, instinctively drawing her close and embracing her, moving away from me because….
Because I was the reason, she was distressed.  
My skin went ice cold at the revelation and I stumbled back, stunned.
“I… I’m sorry.” I choked out, confused and disoriented. Jungkook looked stricken, gently rocking her back and forth and she clung to him, gripping his shirt and I bit my lips, moving further back and I glanced at him, my heart shattering.
“She’s …She’s still sleepy… She doesn’t do well with strangers…” He said softly, looking upset, “ Maybe you could…wait outside…”
Stranger…. Was that what I was?
“I… I’ll go. I’ll just go.” I turned on my heel, rushing out of the door and struggling to breathe in air, my heart clenching so hard I was sure I was going to pass out. I felt my knees give out when I reached the couch, dropping down and drawing my knees up , wrapping my arms around my legs . I didn’t know how long I sat there, fighting sobs and choking on air…and when I finally came to myself, the sobs from the room had died out.
“She’s fallen asleep again.” Jungkook’s voice cut through the silence and I couldn’t bring myself to look up. I felt him move closer, felt his scent hit me as he stepped right up to me, kneeling on the floor in front of me.
I looked up at him, lips wobbling as I took in his handsome face.  A face that was so deeply carved into my heart and my soul, I couldn’t imagine living without it. Without him. The tears came then, helpless and endless and so painful.
He pressed in closer, cupping my face in his palms, thumb brushing the tears that spilled over so relentlessly.
“Heejin…” He whispered and I let my fingers curl around his wrist as his thumb kept brushing the curve of my cheeks. I took a deep , shaky breath .
“She doesn’t remember me….  “ I whispered, “ She doesn’t recognize me at all…She hates me……” I choked out , despair filling every last crevice of my insides, gut twisting as I remembered how Mina had twisted away from me, how her scent had soured in distress at the sight of me, at the touch of my fingers.
 And I wondered if it was different with this other woman..Hyorin, wasn’t it? Did Mina climb into her arms with ease? Did she curl into her chest and sleep? The way she used to with me,  when she was a month old and missing the warmth of a mother.. ….
All those nights spent in that tiny nursery, lying on the cold unforgiving floor, watching the rise and fall of Mina’s chest through the dark room…telling myself it was worth it… it was worth being touched against my will, worth being treated like filth by a man driven mad with grief and anger….all because of this baby…this tiny little baby who had needed me….
And now…she didn’t even know who I was…..worse…she was repulsed by the very sight of me… I couldn’t cope.
“Look at me…” Jungkook rasped, voice raw and cracking. “she doesn’t hate you, Heejin… she just … you feel new to her… different…” 
I shook my head, unable to think about anything beyond the sheer devastation that filled me, the way his daughter had pulled away and run, had refused to come anywhere near me. I realized with lancing pain that I’d wanted to see her, way more than I’d wanted to see Jungkook .
Because she was the reason I’d hung on for so long in that marriage which had been the biggest fucking mistake of my life…. the only reason I’d stuck around . Mina …Having her in my arms, her scent against my face, that had been the only genuine happiness I’d experienced  in a marriage filled with sheer , unending misery. 
“I… she… Why doesn’t she remember? “ I breathed, sagging into his arms, tears soaking his shoulders and his palm ran up and down my back.
“Because she was a baby. Heejin…. I left when she was a baby…”
“Why did you?” I snapped. “ Did it hurt you so much? The thought of living under the same sky as me ? Why you did you go?” I demanded.
Jungkook pulled back, hands coming up to grip my shoulder, holding me at arms length.
“Look at me.” He whispered. “ I had to … You know I had to go….I was hurting you. I was… I was draining you of life. Destroying you… “
Jungkook’s words reminded me of who he was. Of who I was… Of who I was to him.
I choked out, sobbing.
“I hate you. You treated me like scum. Like a crutch….. Like some sort of tool to get better and you just left… you…”
You found someone better. You broke me down and now you’ve gone and found someone better….because I was never good enough for you… I was never someone you could love….
“I had to let you go. I had to end that relationship because it was tainted with so much grief and anger and selfishness and greed. I knew that anything I did afterwards would be tainted by my actions… I… I had to make amends, Heejin. And do you think for a second, that it wasn’t the hardest thing I ever did? That walking out on you wasn’t one of the most devastating things I’ve ever experienced? But I did it for us… for this…” 
I stared at him.
“And what is this?” I asked brokenly.
“This is me, being able to touch you like this.” Jungkook pressed a palm to my cheek, “ And not feeling guilt or sadness or grief or loss.  I did it so we could have this…this… This thing where I can look at you and hold you and see that you’re healing. That you’re doing better… That you’re living the life you want…. That you’re happy. This is me standing here , in front of you and smiling because I’m happy too. Happy that you’re here.  ” He exhaled, “ I’m happy that despite all the hurt we’ve been through for and because of each other, I can look at you now and tell you, honestly, that I’m glad to see you.” 
What a joke.. What a fucking joke.
I smiled shakily.
“Well… “ I said softly, my stomach churning because I was done. Done with him and mostly with myself. “ Isn’t that absolutely wonderful.”
His gaze softened and he smiled.
“I want us to be friends, Heejinah. Even though we don’t see or talk to each other, I think of you often. And when Mina’s old enough to understand , I’ll tell her all about you… I want you in our lives. You’re a friend. ”
I stared at him , feeling the words echo in my skull . It left an acrid taste on my senses, the way he put me into this neat little box, friend. So ….insignificant. Everyone had hundreds of friends. There was nothing even remotely special about being someone’s friend.
Friend just meant replaceable and forgettable. And just like Mina didn’t remember me…. Someday Jungkook wouldn’t either. The knowledge filled my veins spreading all over my body and leaving a fierce, heavy ache in my chest.
It was my fault, I thought despondently. My fault because I had been an idiot.
Jungkook was the sane one here , I thought miserably. These nine months, while I’d been dwelling on him and worrying for him…he had done the healthy thing , by moving on with someone he could actually envision a future with….
What had I done, these past nine months? Dreamt up a fantasy world where somehow we found our way back to each other and built a life together… It seemed so foolish now, in the light of Jungkook’s words and his confession….
Jungkook had done all of this, not for me…but for himself. For his daughter whom he loved and for his wife , whose memory he wanted to honor. And perhaps it was my own delusion that made me think that I’d played some stellar role in his healing…. Maybe if I hadn’t been there, he would have gotten better just the same…. Maybe I hadn’t been a tool …as much as a hindrance …to his healing.
I shook my head, bitterness coating my tongue.
“I should get going.” I whispered , voice shaking.
This is it, I told myself. This is the last time you look at him with that heaviness in your heart. You deserve better. You deserve… a lot of things. And just because people don’t give it to you doesn’t mean you have to settle for less……
“So soon? Hyorin will be back in a couple of hours… I could show you some of my work, and we could get lunch ….”
I shook my head quickly. I didn’t want to meet her in his home. Didn’t want to see him being domestic and affectionate and …normal with her when all I’d ever seen was Jungkook in his anger and grief, either yelling abuses or gripping me with a lust that was tainted with violence and rage. I stared at his hands, the ones I’d liked holding….
How did I forget? That those were the same hands that had held me down and done things that should, rightfully have landed him in prison?
I shook my head, to clear the images out of my head. Looking at him now,  Jungkook looked eager, happy and healed. And I realized that he’d just pushed all of his own actions out of his mind. Forgotten all about it. And that was fair. He probably didn’t even remember any of it. He had been drunk out of his mind, lost in his head and surely, forgetting must’ve been easy… A relief.
I didn’t begrudge him that.
But…
I hadn’t been drunk. I’d been stone cold sober under him on that bed and so, maybe forgetting didn’t come that easily for me. And I was glad that Jungkook could move on and be happy but….
But I couldn’t stay here and pretend that it was the same for me. I wasn’t happy or healed, I thought miserably. And maybe , maybe the sight of him moving on was a sign that I had to stop thinking that healing meant going back to him and his daughter.
“Heejin… What’s wrong? Is it because of Mina.. she’s just not used to…” He began but I quickly pressed a palm to his chest, smiling.
“Strangers.” I said softly. “ I know. That’s not it… You know I have to introduce my exhibit at dinner tonight. I don’t know what the itinerary is or what I’m supposed to say…. None of it.. I need to meet my agent and prep myself a bit. Its alright…I’ll see you tonight.” I said softly.
“I’m sorry… I can’t walk you back because Mina-“
“Of course. Don’t worry about it…. I’ll just…”
The doorbell rang, startling me.
“Jungkook!” A strong voice called out and I went still.
“Hyorin?” Jungkook’s face lit up and I felt my stomach churn. God, the universe really was against me wasn’t it? Sighing in defeat, I wrapped my arms around myself, sitting back down on the couch and waiting.
Behind me , I could hear hushed whispers, soft laughter and shuffling feet. My mouth went dry.
“Ms. Kim….”
I turned around, greeted by the sight of a tall, strapping young woman, pretty by any standards. She was dressed in a pant suit , her hair long and straight, hitting the top of her shoulders. She looked smart… Important.
“Ms. Lee… Its nice to meet you.”
She held her hand out and I shook it gently.  Jungkook smiled at her fondly and his phone rang from somewhere inside the studio.
“Hang on that’s probably Soeun…” He smiled at me and moved away and I watched him leave before shifting my gaze to Hyorin, who was staring down at me with a small smile.
“Are you here in Italy by yourself? Or with one of your many …uh… patrons ?” She smirked.
I blinked.
“Patrons?” I asked softly. “ Excuse me?”
“Jungkook and I’ve been following all the stories about you, back in Korea. You get around quite a lot… don’t you? Every alpha within a 100 mile radius wants a piece of the lovely Kim Heejin… And honestly, could anyone blame them? You look exquisite.”
I stared at her, stunned. The implication was so obvious that I would be an idiot not to realize what she was hinting at. So this was the woman , Jungkook chose? Yet another prejudiced bigot?
I laughed a bit, feeling my heart sink.
“I’m not seeing anyone. If that’s what you’re asking.” I said quietly.
Hyorin smirked at that.
“Of course you aren’t… We all know that isn’t really something your kind does… monogamy, right?”
“Do you have a problem with me Hyorin ssi?” I asked roughly and she laughed.
“Oh come on.. we’re all adults, here. And Heejin, you  agreed to be a part of this festival, knowing full well, that’s what we think . Its because deep down you know I’m right….. Omegas can’t stay with one alpha. They need sex to survive and they are usually open to it with anyone. Not that I’m blaming you or judging you for it. It’s just how you’re built.”
I smiled wide, ignoring the urge to claw at her face. .
“Well, you’ve definitely got me all figured out haven’t you? “ I shook my head, glancing at Jungkook who was making his way over.
“What are you talking about?” He asked curiously and I smiled, glancing at her.
“ Hyorin ssi was just telling me how my sub gender makes it impossible for me to not go around whoring with every alpha I see…….” I glanced at him and Jungkook straightened, looking stunned, “ Well, I hope you two enjoy your beautiful monogamous relationship with each other something an omega like me can only fantasize about…. Right Jungkook?” I smiled and he looked completely lost.
“Wait…What? Hyorin what did you say?” He demanded and she was glaring at me now.
“Please don’t take it personally, I was only talking about omegas in general. “ Hyorin frowned, before bowing and moving away to stalk off in the direction of the bedrooms and I watched her, feeling dirty and terrible.
“Heejin, ignore her.. she’s just old fashioned and-“
“Is that what you’re going to call it?” I snapped and Jungkook froze.
“Heejin…”
I shook my head in disbelief.
“I’m not upset about what she said. I’m upset that she feels comfortable enough, spouting that bullshit to me , in your house. Makes me wonder what else she’s told you about omegas, and how much of it you probably agreed with.”
Jungkook stared at me , lips parted.
“I… I don’t feel that way. You know that.” He said stiltedly.
“Do I? All I know is that she knows about me, about who I am and apparently, she can call me a slut…. In front of you, without worrying about it upsetting you. And that tells me you’re as much of a bigot as she is.”
“Heejin… You know that’s not it. We all grow up being fed certain things and –“
“But you did grow up right?” I snapped. “ you grew up and you can think and act for yourself. As can she. Once you’re an adult, you don’t have a single fucking excuse for being racist or homophobic or bigoted because being an adult means having the ability to unlearn the toxic things you’ve been taught and relearn how to be a decent fucking human.”
I shook my head as he stared at me.
“And you know what…please just… just don’t call me or consider me as a friend.” I laughed. “ Because I don’t think I can consider you one. Not anymore. You can’t…...You can’t just love certain parts of me and be disgusted by others you know? I don’t need a friend who can care about me and love me and help me as long as he can forget that I’m an omega….. I need a friend who can love every jagged, broken , part of me. Who can call out people who talk bullshit at me , who can look someone in the eye and tell them they’re wrong when they’re calling me names  and that’s not who you are……. You’re not it.” I snapped.
Jungkook looked stricken, reaching out to hold me and I stepped away, annoyed.
“I’m sorry, Heejin, you’re right … I’ll talk to her… I’ll…” He began but I shook my head.
“Whatever.  Just don’t call me a friend. We can’t be friends. Let’s just be what we always were , yeah? A big fucking mistake that never should have happened.”
I stormed out of the door, shaking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What do you mean, there are no flights available for today?” I snapped. “Tell them money isn’t an issue. I need to get out of this place right now.”
Minho looked incredibly stricken, hair messy from how often he’d run his fingers through.
“ We just arrived seven hours ago, Hee. Of course there’s no flight yet…. We can stay another day…attend the dinner and-“
“No.” I snapped. “ Absolutely not. I’m not here because they find my art good  or worth putting up. I’m here because they know the alphas around here will want to pay more , to pour in more cash for a chance with me.” I held the embossed booklet up, waving it in his face.
“Heejin…” He protested but I shook my head.
“ Did you see the cost to get into my pane ?. Extra ….for alphas? And yet…apparently they had to pre book it and its filled? You think any of the lecherous bastards who paid money to see me , gives a shit about my art?  And apparently, there’s a meet and greet, for alphas only if they purchase seven or more paintings worth over 10000 Euros. Do you think, that’s what I’m worth?”
Minho looked down at his shoes, ashamed.
“I .. I’m sorry, Hee. You’re right. Its offensive . And an insult to your art and talent. We shouldn’t have come here, you’re right. And I regret it… But just… give me a few hours, yeah? I’ll find a way to get us out of here….”
I exhaled sharply, exhaustion weighing heavy on my head. I felt like I’d taken a pounding, physically and mentally and I wondered how a day that had started so well, could go so wrong, so fast…
Shaking my head, I trudged wearily to the elevator, knocking on the buttons before sagging against the wall, letting my eyes flutter shut.
Jungkook was dating.
Jungkook was dating. His girlfriend thought I was a slut and here I was about to prove her right.
I wanted to slit someone’s throat.
Sighing, I watched the door slide open, grabbing my keys out of my bag,  and moving to the suite. I opened the door before making a beeline for the bed. I collapsed on the soft duvet, groaning. I was torn between wanting to call Taehyung to yell at him about Jungkook and calling Minho to demand an update on the flights.
I was spared the dilemma when the phone in the room rang. Groaning, I moved to swat at the phone, turning on the speaker.
“Ms. Kim? There’s a Mr. Jeon here to see you?”
I blinked, feeling disbelief swell inside me. Did he not get the hint?
Annoyed, I sat up.
“Send him up.” I said, in no mood to go all the way down to see him.
“Up?” She sounded surprised, “ To your room?”
“Yes. To my room. Is that a fucking problem?” I growled, annoyed.
“Not at all Ms. Kim. He’ll be right up.”
I got out of bed, shrugging off my jacket and taking off my dress as well. It was a little damp because I’d sweated through the fabric. I grabbed one of my oversized t shirts , slipping it on and moving to open the door before retreating back to the inner room. Feeling annoyed, I walked up to the vanity and grabbed the hair brush, running the bristles through my locks. I heard his footsteps outside and stiffened.
“If you’re here to defend your shitty girlfriend, you can just leave Jungkook. I swear to God, I’ve had enough of this.” I shouted. He didn’t reply and my hackles rose.
“Listen, I’m sorry if I said something harsh-“ I froze when I reached the doorway, staring at the man in front of me. He had a large , almost humongous bouquet of wild orchids and roses in his hand and I stared at his face.  
This was definitely not Jungkook.
“Umm… hi.” The man bowed awkwardly, his gaze going straight to my legs, where my t shirt ended, just a couple of inches past my waist. I felt the blood rush to my face.
“Who are you…Get out !!!” I shouted, horrified, diving for my jacket and holding it up against my bare thighs. The man held both his hands up, eyes wide..
“I’m sorry… I… you said I could come up to your room….” He protested and I scowled, confused.
“What? “ I stared, stunned… “ Who…what?”
“I’m Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo. I’m uh….one of the sponsors for this festival. And a fan. Huge fan.” He was staring at me beseechingly and I felt my head begin to throb.
The sheer relentlessness of this day…..
“I… Mr. Jeon…” So weird, God, “ There’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not…. I thought you were someone else.”
“Jungkook yes…your ex husband, right? You were married to him for six months after he lost his wife….. He’s also one of the artists exhibiting their work here.” He nodded quickly, running long fingers through thick glossy hair, lips parting in a hesitant smile and I stared at him.
“How do you know all that? ” I demanded, heart pounding. He immediately held his hands up again.
“I’m sorry… I sound like a stalker, shit. But Trust me I’m not. I just am a huge fan.. I looked up some stuff about you….before.” He shuffled a bit awkwardly, finally looking up at me.
I tried to catch his scent. No scent to speak of. A beta then. Relaxing just a bit, I swallowed. At least I wasn’t in any immediate danger. But still, I had no intention of letting him see me in nothing but a t shirt. Embarrassed, I gripped the jacket tighter.
“Why are you here?” I demanded angrily, taking in his appearance. He didn’t look like a hoodlum or someone dangerous. He was good looking, dressed in a white t shirt and black Jacket over plain black slacks. His shoes looked expensive and I didn’t miss the shiny Rolex on his wrist either,.
“Well, for one thing I own the Hotel.” He chuckled and that made my stomach turn. “And also like I said, I’m one of the main sponsors for the Festival itself.”
“Right.” I was too disoriented to process this, head throbbing. “Of course. Is there a reason why you wanted to see me?”
“I was downstairs…just now… I couldn’t help but overhear you with your agent. You wanted to leave as soon as possible. To pull out of the event and I’m just here to try and change your mind, Ms. Kim.” He smiled earnestly and I realized he was really quite young.
I sighed.
“Could you… Could you wait outside? I want to put some clothes on before we talk any further.” I said tiredly and he bowed quickly.
“Uh… These…I’ll just leave these here.” He placed the large bunch of flowers on the table before quickly leaving the room and I swore, racing to the suitcase in the corner. I quickly grabbed a pair of jeans, slipping them on hastily and zipping myself up before glancing at the mirror again. This would have to do.
I moved to the door and opened it, finding him right there, looking lost.
“I… come in, please.” I said hesitantly and he bowed again, moving in and waiting for me to close the door and take a seat on the couch, before sinking into an arm chair across from me.
“Did you see the itinerary? It doesn’t get more sexualized than this.” I waved the booklet and he flushed.
“I understand you’re upset about … certain things. I’m sorry that you feel objectified , in the festival. It wasn’t the intention I had when I first told Hyorin and the others that I wanted them to invite you. But , I’ve been busy the past month, and I didn’t go over the complete agenda. If I did, I definitely would have made sure that you were treated with just as much respect as the others. Unfortunately, there’s not much I can do now, but I’ve had a word with all of the panelists and also the hosts. We won’t entertain any question or comments of a sexual nature and if anyone tries to insinuate anything , I’ll have them removed from the panel myself. “ He said firmly.
“I’m only here because you told me you would exhibit my mother’s works too.” I said sharply and he bowed.
“ Your mother’s works are just as exquisite and I’ve arranged for them to be displayed right at the center of the arena, with a running slide show of her childhood , her art technique and the great love she had for her daughter.” He said firmly.
I could only stare. He sounded incredibly sincere and there was no mistaking the earnestness in his tone.
“I’m….” I bit my lips, “  Listen, Mr. Jeon, I’m flattered but honestly, I never wanted to be here. I… there was … something else that made me want to come and well, that turned out to be a huge mistake. To be honest, I’m not sure if I have it in me to suffer through days of people treating me like I’m some kind of sex crazed bimbo.” I shook my head.
“how about this.? You let me be your date for tonight and you let me display your work, today at the dinner itself. I’ll be right by your side. And then, I’ll have my private jet on standby and we can fly back to Korea. You deserve the spotlight, Heejin and I want people to see how good you are at what you do. I don’t care if I lose money over this… As long as you’re comfortable. ”
I gawked at him, stunned.
“Private Jet?” I choked out. “ Okay, now I’m genuinely concerned.”
He laughed.
“I’m a Hotelier, and I have properties all over the world and I like to inspect them personally most of the time. Its more practical to have a private jet than to try and align my schedules with everyone else.” He smiled.
“Right. Convenient.” I shook my head. “ I’m no stranger to excessive wealth, Mr. Jeon and trust me, it’s always left a  sour taste in my mouth.”
“I don’t flaunt my wealth, Ms. Kim. These clothes? Got them on the streets of Florence. I drive a Mazda. Wealth has no meaning to me. People do. People like you, who bring beauty into the world with their craft. You’ve made my world beautiful and I just want to repay , in some way.” He smiled,  “ Also,  You’re very  beautiful.” He added and then immediately looked away. “ I’m sorry. That was… dumb . I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”
Endeared against my own wishes, I found myself fighting a small smile.
“Just tonight’s dinner?” I asked quietly.
“Just the dinner party.” He assured me quickly.
“Alright. But I’m not getting into any private Jet. My agent will book me tickets and I’ll find my way back to Korea.”
“As you wish. I’ll pick you up at seven. What color is your dress?” He asked casually and I blinked.
“Uh… Wine red? I guess? Why?”
He grinned, looking boyishly handsome.
“I’ll see you at seven, Ms. Kim.”
He bowed, before pausing by the bouquet. He grabbed a couple of  flowers, holding them up for me to see.  
“Daffodils and Lilacs.” He grinned, “ To finding something new to love. And to new beginnings.”
Wow.
Subtle.
I shook my head, momentarily forgetting all about Jungkook as I grinned all the way back to the bedroom.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I told you… coming with me will earn you major points.” Wonwoo smirked as he pulled me in by my waist , holding my dress up for me as I stared at the sleek black limousine at the Hotel entrance. I watched as he held my wrist gently, latching a string of sterling silver and red rubies around the delicate curve of it.
“This is too lavish…I don’t want this…Who are you?” I demanded, flushing because of the way the flashes went off in every direction, reporters scrambling when they caught sight of him. He was clearly popular, if the number of photos being clicked were any indication. I regretted everything.
Wonwoo pressed a kiss to my wrists, right near the bracelet and gently placed my palm on the curve of his elbow, leading me over to the car and I watched the chauffeur open the door for us.  
“ Someone who can get anyone here fired. Be careful , sweetheart.” I watched in mute horror as he bent low, picking up the hem of my skirt so I wouldn’t trip, while climbing into the limousine. The reporters began whispering excitedly and more flashes went off . My face completely red, I hastened to climb in.
“These people look at you like you’re some kind of King.” I stared out of the tinted windows seeing the sheer multitude of people and Wonwoo chuckled.
“ That’s because I am. At least for tonight. And that’s why I’m the perfect guy to protect you Heejin. They’re all terrified of me.” He winked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jungkook found me, fifteen minutes into the event. I hung by the large archway, near an alcove, sipping champagne and nibbling on some hors d’oeuvre as people threw glances at me. I noticed the conspicuous lack of a date on his arm and straightened, sighing and bracing myself for more unpleasantness as he picked his way through the crowd, eyes trained on me.
“Can we talk?” He said, the minute he was at hearing distance and I exhaled.
“No.” I said casually and he made a noise of impatience.
“Fucking, hell Heejin..just…” He swore again, looking upset. “ Why are you doing this to me? What do you want from me huh?”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“What do I want from you? Oh, fuck off Jungkook. I want nothing from you.” I snapped, turning on my heel, ready to leave but his hand shot out, gripping me right above my elbow, fingers curling in hard.
“Fuck.. listen. I don’t know what she said to you. I .. I’m sorry if she offended you…. Alright? She’s an alpha… I can’t change the way she thinks…”
“I didn’t ask you to. I merely said that if you associate yourself with people who think I’m scum, I won’t let you into my life. Because I respect myself too much for that.” I said firmly.
“She doesn’t think you’re scum, Heejin come on. She just has some misconceptions about certain things.”
“God, Jungkook…just stop. Alright? Stop. Because I’m not asking you do anything. I’m leaving on a flight tomorrow morning and you’ll never see me again. That’s all there is to it.”
He froze at that, fingers curling harder around my arm and it hurt, the skin turning red. Stupid fucker, never knew his own strength.
“Ow, Jungkook let go.” I whispered, and he did, albeit reluctantly.
I rubbed at the bruised skin, furious. I watched as the redness healed over, the pain fading to a throb and then into a pleasant heat and I hated it. Hated that being an omega meant that Jungkook’s rough touch turned to pleasure on my skin.
“What do you mean you’re leaving tomorrow? The Festival is for two weeks.”
I sighed.
“I didn’t come here for the festival. I came here to see you. To see if you were as hung up on me as I was on you…but apparently not.” I snapped.
Jungkook went perfectly still at that.
“What the fuck does that mean?” He said softly and I laughed, shaking my head.
“Wow. You really never even considered it huh? Us? Together.?” It wasn’t funny at all, but I could only laugh. Probably because I’d been so sure.. So certain that there was something there.
He opened his mouth to answer but I felt a warm solidness behind me, an arm wrapping around my waist and a second later, Wonwoo was there pressing up against me.
“Jungkook-ssi… Such a pleasure to meet you.” He held his hand out, and Jungkook frowned, his eyes trained on where wonwoo’s fingers curled around my waist.
“Get your hands off her.” He said shortly and Wonwoo blinked, pulling away from me and stepping back .
“What the-? No. Fuck you.” I snapped, glaring at Jungkook before grabbing Wonwoo’s hand and bringing it back around me. “Don’t you fucking dare take your hands off.” I held my finger up at his face and Wonwoo looked momentarily stunned.
“Really, Heejin? You’re doing this?” Jungkook glared at me. “ We need to talk.”
“So talk.” I snapped. “ Tell me why you think a bigoted bitch is the best you can do in terms of dating. Tell me why she’s the only one who can ‘ understand’ “ I made air quotes, shaking my head, “ You think you and your shitty have monopoly on grief Jungkook? I’ve lost people too. Just because I haven’t screwed other people over because of it, doesn’t make my grief invalid….yeah.”
Ringing silence followed and I regretted everything.
“Fuck.” I whispered, shaking my head. “ I .. Shit. I need to get out of here.”
I pulled away from Wonwoo, moving out of the huge ballroom and Jungkook was right behind me, of course he was.
“Heejin…fuck. Wait. You’re right. I didn’t mean to imply that you didn’t understand me. Of course you did. Its why you stuck around… I know that. And you’re right, she had no business talking about you like that. I’ll have a word with her… But…”
I sped up, wanting to get away but he grabbed me again, tugging me closer out of the hall way and into a darkened alcove and I flinched when he pushed me up against the wall, caging me in, as he pressed in closer.
“What did you mean by that?” He demanded, hands coming up to grip my waist, curling gently and my chest heaved at the touch of him, the enclosed space making his scent turn potent, strong and impossible to avoid. My nostril flared as I breathed him in, familiar and yet so foreign, comforting and yet so fucking dangerous.
“By what?” I snapped and his hands moved up, shaping the curves of my body , thumb grazing the tip of my breast and making me jump, before moving up, gripping my face, gently. He pressed his thumb into my lower lip, rubbing back and forth, face impossibly close and I swallowed, throat sandpaper dry.
“About us? Together….” He breathed and I exhaled shakily.
“You know what I meant.” I whispered. “ If you don’t then I can’t explain it.” I whispered and he swore, head dropping against mine, forehead resting against mine, and lips less than a hairsbreadth away.
We’ve never kissed, I thought suddenly. I licked my lips, turning my face away but his fingers gripped my chin at once, yanking me around to stare at him again.
“Look at me, baby. Tell me… You thought about us together?” He whispered .
I breathed shakily.
“Of course I did…. “ I snapped.
“Then clearly therapy isn’t working for you.” He snapped right back and I flinched.
“What-“
Jungkook pulled away staring at me.
“ Do you even remember all the shit I did to you?” He asked quietly. My stomach dropped.
“Jungkook.”
“I broke your ribs.” He said calmly. I swallowed.
“That.. That was an accident. You didn’t mean to.” I protested. “ And we’re past all that… I don’t… I don’t blame you for it.” I said, which was honest enough.
“And what about the nights I got drunk, Heejin….” He said softly and my skin went cold.
“That… That was just… It was just an outlet for your grief… “ I looked away and he scoffed.
“You’re calling it an outlet for grief. I believe the world calls it rape.”
I felt my entire body shiver at the word , moving up to wrap my arms around his neck, trying to pull him close but he was stiff as a board.
“ Don’t” I snapped. “ Don’t …. Its over…it’s in the past.”
“It was still me. I was the one who did it and I can’t… I can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”
I pulled away to glare at him.
“So , what? You won’t give us a chance because of something I’ve already forgiven you for?”
“Yes.” He said shortly. “ Because you may have forgiven me, but I haven’t forgiven myself.”
I felt my body sag in disbelief.
“Jungkook that’s-“
“You deserve better. You always have. I’m not… I don’t deserve someone like you Heejin. You’re kind and breathtaking and I’m just… a broken mess of a man who’s barely getting by.”
“Oh, right… So broken.” I scoffed. “ You’re on the front page of magazines, you have a successful career and a beautiful girlfriend,,,,forgive me if I’m not breaking my heart over your failures.”
Jungkook exhaled shakily before looking up at me.
“  You wanna know the truth about me, Heejin-ah?” He swallowed. “ I just got out of rehab last week.”
I went still.
“What?” I was sure I’d misheard.
“I… I came here and about a month or so in…I started drinking again…” He glanced away and my heart turned over inside me.
“Jungkook, what?” I demanded, horrified.
“I got drunk and got into an argument with a cop. I hit him. They found out I was a single father and-“ He shook his head, “ I got arrested for disorderly conduct , Public intoxication and assault.”
I stared at him in disbelief, unable to keep the disappointment out of my tone.
“ Arrested for assault... Jungkook why?” I breathed and he flushed.
“I know…. It was stupid.. I… I was stupid.” He said softly.  “Soeun isn’t a baby sitter. She’s a social worker. She’s here to keep an eye on me because they want to make sure I’m not a threat to Mina. If I slip up, they’ll deport me back home and then the state will likely take her away from me. Soeun likes me….so she agreed to lie to you ……And as for the girlfriend…” He laughed, shaking his head, “ Hyorin broke up with me after I got arrested. We’re not… We’re not dating. She was only there to get some prints for the panel tomorrow.” He finished shakily.
I stared at him.
“Why?” I demanded . “ Why would you lie to me… Jungkook ….”
“Because I didn’t want you to think I was a screw up.” He said shakily. “ I know I’m supposed to be getting better and I have but… But sometimes I just…I miss…. I miss home. “ He shuddered. “ And you.”  He looked up at me. “ I miss you a lot, Heejin and it hurts and I feel like the only way I can forget about you…about us together is if I drink. And I’m sorry. I know I don’t have the right to miss you, not after everything I put you through but I… it’s how I feel. ” He glanced away, trembling a little.
I wrapped my arms around myself, stepping away, feeling myself go cold.
We stayed quiet for a few seconds, both of us staring at the floor lost in our own thoughts. I felt drained. Miserably so. Like someone had sucked all the strength out of me. I realized how badly I had wanted Jungkook to be okay. To heal and be himself again. And I’d spent the last nine months, fully convinced that he was. That he was doing what he loved, bonding with his daughter building a life for himself.
But apparently, he was also spiraling back into addiction as well.
It was like we were back in that apartment, both of us miserable  but desperate to be something we clearly were not : Okay.
“Does Taehyung know?” I asked finally and Jungkook hesitated before nodding.
“He was at my court hearing three weeks ago. He’s the reason I haven’t already lost her.” Jungkook whispered.
“What did he say?”
“He thinks I should come back to Korea.” Jungkook said quietly. “ He wants me to start therapy again with him. Every week. “
I nodded.
“Fair enough. And what do you think?”
“I think I will. My probation ends in three days. I’ll… I’ll start making arrangements afterwards. I’ll probably be back in a few weeks time. ”
I stared at him, finally seeing the things I hadn’t noticed this morning. The shadows beneath his eyes, the worry lines on his brow. I wondered if he would have ever told me the truth, if not for this little confrontation between us.
Silence descended again and I bit my lips, a million thoughts running through my head. I felt the pull of his scent through it all, an instinctive urge to reach out and touch and draw him close and I wondered if this was it. That for the rest of our lives we would just be drawn to each other, reluctant and hurt but unable to stay away.
“You’re leaving tomorrow then?” He asked quietly breaking through the fog in my head.  
“Well obviously not.” I snapped. “ I’m not leaving you. I’ll tell Minho, we’ll be staying here for a few weeks. Do you actually have a possible job back home? If you don’t I can ask my agent to find one for you….”
Jungkook was staring at me like I’d grown an extra head.
“ What?” I asked roughly.
He swallowed.
“No.. I .. I don’t have a job there.”
“We’ll get you one. And my apartment is big enough so you can stay with me till we find you a place of your own. And I think it’ll actually be good for you, because there’s a Fine Art photographer, pretty well know guy who stays just a few blocks away and e can probably- “
“You haven’t really changed have you?” Jungkook cut me off in the middle of my rambling .
I flushed, looking away.
“What do you mean?”
“Back when we were married… it was just like this.. I’d fuck up and do something awful and you’d just take it all in stride, get ready to help me out of it….”
“I don’t know what you mean…” I said quickly, “ Let’s go back to the party we’ll talk later-“
He grabbed both my arms, pulling me back to face him when I tried to get past him and I yelped, staring up at him in surprise.
“What?” I demanded. “ What is it now?”
“How do you do this thing, Heejin ?” He asked roughly. “ How do you just get ready to clean up every fucking mess I make like it doesn’t hurt you? Like I don’t hurt you?”
“What are you talking about?” I tried to wriggle out of his hold but he tugged me closer.
“How do you just…” He shook his head, “ accept me so unconditionally? Like… Its like no matter what I do, you’re just willing to look past it and I don’t fucking understand Heejin… why do you put up with me, damn it?”
I stared right at him. Caught his gaze and held it, refusing to look away.
“You know why.” I whispered, licking my lips, throat dry,  “ And if you don’t…. I’m not going to tell you.”
His eyes widened , lips parting and he exhaled sharply, before letting me go and stepping away.
He looked away, shaking a little and I sighed.
“Let’s just get this night over with, yeah?” I said quietly. “ and then we’ll talk.”
He didn’t reply, merely standing aside and motioning for me to leave first.
I shook my head, moving to grip his arm instead.
“Together.” I said firmly. “ We’ll get this night over with, together.”
 Author’s Note : i love these two. i’ve never wanted two people to be together so much. 
@taeshuworld  .@girlinthemikrokosmos  @xius-exos  @sugainfireslex  @yunkichiee@kpopstudybee @ephyraaaa  @peachoney9795 @ggukkieland  @veronawrites  @blr1004   @tinyhoagiepartylover @btsis7okay @squishyjk  @itsdingdong @emmmui  @honeeybunneey  @yeonkiminnie @just-me-and-myselfs  @delicate-snow-flake  @kpop-lore  @beautifulvirgobutterfly @sumzysworld  @btsmylife21  @teresaisla .@melrosaeparker @taestannie @dchimminie  @ meraki–life  @somewhereinthestates  @mawwnsterr  @kookiesbreaky  @chimchoom  
@namjooningelsewhere  @itsdingdong  @ungodlyjoon  @caratarmy131  
@ladyartemesia  @hardggukk @iliveforjin  @loveemariee
@unicornbabylover  @dchimminie  @nope2214   @landl7xoxo
@mrcleanheichou  @kayteekat @wassup-haeyadwae   @natgba   @nikkiordonez12    @neverthefirstchoice  @btsssssfiction  
@mylittlestrangeandsweetworld   @kookiesxbananamilk     @lovra974   @supernoonanyc  @kokoandkookie​  
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aoitrinity · 4 years ago
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Why Do I Have to Feel Like a Fucking Conspiracy Theorist -- OR -- How I Find a Semblance of Peace on Sunday Night
I’m also going to start this out with a GIANT DISCLAIMER.
I am about to theorize about what may have happened to the SPN finale. I have absolutely no insider knowledge. I am merely speculating here based on the panels and a bunch of Twitter and Tumblr posts that I have been reading over the last few days. If you are not in a good place to read such things, TURN BACK PLEASE. Go take care of yourself and your mental health. You and your feelings are valid and deserve to be handled gently right now.
Additionally, if you are here to give me shit for being unhappy with the ending, please walk away as well. I am here to reach out and share my feelings with people who might be struggling to make sense of something that upset some of us in very deep-seated ways. I am not here to bother you or critique you or tell you that you’re lesser because you liked the ending. If you felt it was good, then go enjoy it.
Long-ass post beneath the cut, everyone.
Alrighty folks...I debated whether or not to do this because I have been spiraling down the hell that is the SPN finale since Thursday. The travesty of what happened to our show--to this beloved show that seemed to have been so perfectly and precisely written for at least four years that it had basically already paved its own tarmac on which to land its plane and we all thought we knew exactly what we were going to get. And then we didn’t. We had a nigh Cas-less and entirely Eileen-less ending. We had no goodbye between Cas and Jack. We had Dean dying young after finally finding his freedom, only to ascend to heaven with no one but Bobby. We had the weird, weird, weird incest-y death scene. We had the bridge crane shot thing because...sure. You do you, Robert Singer.
It was so terrible, so truly awful, and I couldn’t seem to square any of it with anything we had known going in. I tossed and turned and cried and didn’t eat or sleep all weekend. I spent hours just reloading tumblr and twitter, going to the Misha panel, reading and reading and listening and trying to figure out what the fucking hell is going on because I needed to know exactly where to direct my anger. And after a fuckton of talking with @winchester-reload, I think we have at least a very plausible theory about what happened here--I’m laying it out below as much for my own peace of mind as anything else, because otherwise all of these thoughts are going to continue to spin around in my head for weeks and I won’t be able to do jack shit.
Now to start off, unfortunately I do think Dean was slated to die from the beginning of this season. I don’t know WHY they thought that was the best way to go, and I wish they had listened to Jensen on this one. Part of me wonders if it was an order from on high based on the discussion between Becky and Chuck earlier this season--the writers knew it wasn’t a great choice, but they were trying to signal to us that we should feel free to write our own endings to the story because they’d be better (I can wax poetic on the signs of why many of the writers probably wanted Dean to live, but that’s another post). I’m not defending that choice by any means, just laying it out there that I think they didn’t necessarily all want to kill Dean like they did.
However, what I THINK I can explain now is what happened with Misha and why we got so jerked around with Cas’s story. Consider what we know (I can’t immediately source all of it, but I did my best):
At the end of episode 15x19, Lucifer has been returned to the Empty after being killed AGAIN. He talks with Cas. Maybe harasses him a bit about Dean, idk. But then...Jack shows up. New God Jack. And he picks up Cas and pulls him out of the Empty, leaving Lucifer behind, because seriously. Fuck that guy (also leaving behind his abusive father is character growth for Jack, so yay for that).
-Misha was contracted to film 15 episodes this season. He was only in 14.
-Misha told Michael Sheen he had to go back to film 1.5 episodes after the shutdown in March. (Starts at 6:13)
-Misha was in Vancouver during filming of the finale.
-Mark P said at Darklight Con that the last scene he filmed was with Alex and Misha (and Mark P was only in episode 19).
-Misha implied that he was present for various filming moments, including Dean’s death (start at 35:15), and said that it felt like a “mini-reunion.”
-Various sources have mentioned that Jimmy Novak was supposed to be in the finale.
-After episode 18, Stands tweeted a fan who was angered and hurt by Cas's death that they could talk about the “bury the gays” issue after the finale aired.
-In episode 19 we know there were takes of the parking lot scene where the only thing fans observing could hear was Dean yelling “CAS” at Chuck (fuck I can’t find this one right now, but it’s definitely out there)
-Also in episode 19, we had a very strange, awkward montage at the end of the episode.
-In episode 20, we know there were a FUCKTON of missing scenes
-We also had no opening montage, but three other separate montages.
-Carry on My Wayward Son was played TWICE, back-to-back at the end of the episode.
-Episode 20 was shorter than normal and had surprisingly little dialogue. The pacing was VERY strange.
-The cast and crew has been almost completely silent about the finale since it came out. When they have spoken, it has been with an awkward excuse of “Uh...COVID?”
-Samantha Ferris has specifically noted that, despite the Harvelle’s being back in play and a big heaven reunion having been planned pre-COVID, neither she nor Chad Lindberg received any such invitation to return.
-Cas and Dean POP Funko figures were pictured together in a replica of Harvelle’s in 15x04.
NOW with all of this in mind (and I’m probably missing some stuff too because there is so much--feel free to add on to that list), please bear with me because here is what I think we were SUPPOSED to get POST-COVID (after it was determined that the reunion couldn’t happen because of the virus):
In episode 20, we start with our NORMAL OPENING MONTAGE, like always. It traces everything that happened during the season. We are reminded of Cas. The confession. Rowena. Eileen. Jack. Billie, God, the Empty, all of it. 
Things then follow along in the episode where they did up until Dean dies and wakes up in heaven. After his conversation with Bobby, he drives off to find Cas (who, in the script, was listed as “Jimmy Novak” in order to protect against script leaks--who wouldn’t want to do their best to avoid spoilers about the finale with the wrapping of a fifteen-year show?). He does indeed find Cas. We get Dean’s end of the confession. Hell, maybe we even get a kiss. And then Dean sets up his new heaven home in the recreated Harvelle’s. Maybe Cas even fucking moves in. 
Years pass. We get Sam having his life on Earth (still can’t explain why they cut Eileen and couldn’t even have Sam signing vaguely to the blurry brunette in the background; if anyone wants to take that on, go for it). Eventually, Cas tells Dean that it’s almost Sam’s time. Dean takes Baby and goes to meet Sam at the bridge. The cover of Carry on My Wayward Son plays during this much shorter sequence. End of episode.
But that’s not what we got. Instead, much of what I just wrote about was excised from the episode. The remnants were stitched together after shooting had been wrapped. Filler was added in the form of montages and long, unnecessary extra shots to get the episode to something approaching a reasonable length. 
But why? Why would they spend all that time and money and quarantining on Misha, only to almost completely cut him out of the finale? I struggled with why the fuck the CW would want this mammoth show to go down as the greatest queerbait in TV history when they had the chance to do something truly beautiful and monumental with it? It couldn’t just be sheer homophobia, right? Well, I think that factored into it, my friends, but here is where my head is at right now.
It was about cold, hard cash.
Now I could be wrong, but this is what I’m thinking at the moment: Supernatural is going off of the air. Supernatural, the CW’s cash cow for fifteen years. Sure there is still money to be made on blu-rays and merchandise and cons...but they need people watching their shows. They need that sweet advertising revenue. And you know what show they have about to premiere? A show that could, potentially, bring with it a chunk of that SPN revenue?
Walker.
And if any of you know anything about the original Walker Texas Ranger, you know that the show was predominantly a show about a very heterosexual white man being very excessively heterosexual. And for SOME REASON over the years, many of the execs at the CW still seem to think that this show, Supernatural, is really attractive to a lot of middle-American white men...whom they desperately want to watch this new show with this guy from Supernatural that they already know.
Now here’s where COVID fucked us. I think Destiel was greenlit by TPTB, at least in SOME form, before COVID. But then the pandemic happened, and they panicked. They got the cut of the last two episodes and watched them in their original, probably queer form. And then, the execs at CW looked at the economy. They looked at their cash cow, about to make its journey to the great beyond. And they looked at this new little calf Walker that they were so desperately worried about. And they made a choice.
They decided that it would be too risky to take the step with Destiel. They were worried about frightening off their ever-so-valuable hetero male demographic with the possibility that a traditionally masculine man in his 40s could be in love with another man in an overt way. It was homophobia mixed with greed, spun up by fear for their revenues because of COVID.
So they called in Singer, possibly Dabb, although I wouldn’t be surprised if they went straight to Singer. They told them that Destiel had to go: executive orders. And the only way to make it go in a way that removed any trace of what had been there was to rewrite what happened to Cas and cut him out from the last two episodes entirely. It was too late to reshoot anything. They had to just cut and stitch and fill with bullshit montages. 
They removed the scene at the end of 19, probably because Cas and Lucifer discussed Dean. All that was left of Misha there was his voice on that fake phone call. They may have cut other things too, but I would bet my life that they cut a scene from the end of the episode and replaced it with that very strange montage. Then they moved onto 20. They cut out every scene with Cas. And left in only two platonic mentions of him, neither made by Dean. They tried to imply that Cas might show up in Dean’s heaven at some point, but that was as far as the editors could go in the time they had. They filled in with montages, awkwardly long shots, anything they could do to fill all of those missing scenes.
And they even had to take the opening montage, because literally everything in it pointed to Cas being there at the end of it all. They wouldn’t be able to leave out his scenes, they were too critical to the season. They couldn’t cut his confession without raising eyebrows. So they cut the whole thing and moved “Carry On My Wayward Son” to one of the newly-added driving montages at the end. Which is why we awkwardly had both songs play back-to-back--again, such a strange choice unless they were out of options and couldn’t exactly buy rights to a new track or compose anything else.
And so we were left with the shadow of the finale that we deserved, that Cas and Dean deserved. We were left without resolution or happiness or words. Bobo told us the most important thing about happiness is just “saying it” and our characters were silenced without anyone ever knowing the truth.
I think the writers might have known and been given the new party line that “Misha never filmed, he couldn’t, sorry, it was COVID, no one’s fault!” But I don’t think most of the cast even knew it had happened until they watched the finale on Thursday with us (though they might have been confused why the bit from 15x19 was sliced, they could reasonably have assumed it was a time thing and also BL episodes don’t make sense anyway). Why do I say that?
Well, first of all, Misha started sending out a bunch of excited texts to fans with some old BTS pictures about an hour before the show started airing on EST. He also wanted his children to see the episode, his YOUNG children. Why would he show them such a traumatic episode if their Dad wasn’t in it? What if it was because he wanted them to witness what was going to be a monumental moment in queer television history that their DAD got to be a part of? And then that was all dashed.
Which is why I think the cast and crew went almost completely radio silent the next day. I don’t think they knew. And based on how they have been acting on social media since then, I think many of them are absolutely furious, but they have been silenced because of NDAs, because they want to find work again in a cutthroat industry, because they don’t want to bring down the hellfire of Warner Brothers Entertainment upon themselves. So the most we have gotten is a little acknowledgement from the MERCHANDISING COMPANY trying to validate our pain (god bless Shirts, she is a LIFESAVER) and a response to my salty tweet about keeping good stuff in the closet from Adam Williams (the VFX coordinator) that seemed to acknowledge the validity of my complaint.
Then there was a scramble behind the scenes, I would bet my life. Talking points were fed to the boys who had panels today, to CE, to all the cast and crew:
Toe the party line. Misha never filmed. This was always about COVID. Do not mention Destiel. Do not mention Dean’s feelings for Cas. Do not promote the Castiel Project or anything that validates the idea that this was anything less than a superb ending.
And that is why we have heard so little from the cast on this front, and what we have heard has been muddled and contradictory. That is why the writers are saying nothing. That is why we have been left adrift.
Now before I close this out, I do want to say that I really, genuinely do not think this was on the writers at all. I feel like they tried to give us the best ending that they could, in a writers room that we know is notorious for splitting along party lines about the overall story (BL and Singer, who have always been about the brothers and their man-pain vs. Dabb and the rest who always seemed to want more for them and for Cas). I think they did everything in their power to at least end with Dean and Cas happy together. If they could give us nothing else, they wanted to give us that. And then the network took it from them. From us. From everyone.
For the sake of fucking money. 
And the WORST PART OF IT ALL, for me, is that in the wake of this disaster, the fans have been left to try and figure out what happened. We have had to wade through a mire of conflicting information in the midst of all of our collective anger and grief over this garbage ending of a show many of us have loved and even relied on for YEARS, all the while wondering if we’re just fucking crazy, if we have all fallen collectively into the hole of conspiracy theories. That hurts ESPECIALLY badly because we have taken so many hits over the years from other groups on social media saying we were crazy for seeing things that weren’t there (especially Destiel), for writing meta and analyzing tropes and believing the evidence of our eyes and ears. The network has made us relive that entire nightmare WHILE processing our grief for a show we wanted so badly to celebrate and which instead we now have to mourn.
So again guys, I cannot prove that this is exactly what happened at all; this is simply my idea of what may have happened. But right now, it’s the most sense I can make from this mess, and to be honest, the act of typing it out has helped me enormously in my processing of it all. I feel like I can see more clearly, like I know where to target my outrage and where to direct empathy. I feel like just fucking maybe, I might be able to do my job tomorrow without bursting into tears at random moments. 
I really hope that this post has helped some of you to, in some small way, process this too. We get through this the way that Misha told us at his panel this morning, the way the writers have told us to do all season long...we throw out the story God gave us and we make it better. We write our characters the happy endings they deserve. 
We save them.
One last thing--if you have not already, please consider channeling your rage into a donation to one of the five causes our fandom has put together to pay tribute to our beloved show and to mourn the ending it should have had:
-The Castiel Project
-Dean Winchester is Love
-Sam Winchester Project
-The National Association of the Deaf
-The Jack Kline Project
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nsheetee · 4 years ago
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One Foot in the Golden Life
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Pairing: rich kid!renjun x caddie!reader Genre: rich kid AU, university au, romance, slight angst, mature content Length: 9.7k Summary: this is the story of a boy who is constantly pushed down by his father, a girl who just wants to not live paycheck to paycheck, and how they met on a golf course.  Warnings/Details: includes mentions of other NCT members, female reader, swearing, inaccurate depiction of golf, acts of sexual harassment towards the reader, mature content (unprotected sex, coming inside, oral [female receiving])
a/n: a big thank you to @insomni-writing​ for beta reading this ♡ also, if you are a minor, please beware that there is mature content in this fic!
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You thought it would be the perfect opportunity to work at the most well-known country club in the state, but really the only thing your job brought you was perpetual cold to your hands and feet, and entangled your simple life with one of the youngest and richest bachelors at your university.
The only place on top of Mt. Carla is the Augusta Country Club, and it is a sight to see by the regular people who gaze up at it from the city below, like mortals looking up into the Gods’ chamber. The first time you went up the mountain for your job interview at the club, you got lost and were almost late. Thankfully, you didn’t crash your car on the winding roads, and got the job as well.
The Augusta Country Club is equipped with the largest and most expensive golf course in the region, but also has Michilin approved restaurants and the finest saunas and gym equipment any CEO could ask for. Those are usually the type of people that have club memberships: CEO’s, congress men and women, top-notch lawyers, and maybe the odd business owner that made it big enough to afford the price tag.
When you took up the job as a caddie, you had an idea of what you were getting yourself into. You’ve only been working for a month, but there are already a few regular golf players that prefer you as their caddie, which in your book is a success considering the type of high profile people that come to relax here.
However, today is different.
You can sense it when Kara and Mina, your coworkers who have been working here for a year longer than you, walk towards you and your friend, Lia, before your shift today. Mina has a small stack of info cards in her hands and they both hold smug smiles on their faces. The info cards have everything a caddie needs to know about who they’ll be working for that shift, and by the looks of it, today’s game will have a good match up.
“I’m going to be Mr. Huang’s son’s caddie. Don’t even fight me on this, you know I’ll win.” Kara states boldly as the two girls stop in front of you, snatching an info card out of Mina’s hand when she holds them up like she’s playing a card game, flashing the photos and names on the cards at you.
“I call dibs on Mr. Lee’s son.” Mina hums, not even bothering to keep up the act that they just want to be good caddies. “You two can have the old men.” She smiles tightly, shoving the other two info cards into Lia’s grasp and turning on her heel to walk away with Kara.
Considering you don’t even know what they’re talking about, you have no right to be mad at them. There is more confusion clouding your mind than anger at their rudeness. However, Lia does not share the same sentiment.
“I’ll shove these info cards up their-” Lia fumes, her volume rising as the sentence went on, and you quickly pulled her out of ear shot, around a corner by the bathrooms. “-stuck up two faced asses!”
“Lia…” You mutter, her wording making you shake your head at how unstable her temper is, “They’ve been working here for a lot longer than we have, just let them have those clients. Either way, what’s it to you?”
“What’s it to me? ___, they’re talking about Lee Jeno and Huang Renjun. I know I told you about them before.” Lia states like she expects you to have those two names tattooed on the front lobe of your brain already.
“I think I remember them…. They go to our University, right?” You try to regurgitate your friend’s rambles from months ago out of your head.
“Yeah, business department.” She sighs dreamily, as if the business department is the sexiest thing on campus. “This might be our only chance to shoot our shot.” You can’t help but grimace a bit.
“It can be your chance to shoot your shot. Leave me out of this.” You randomly grab an info card out of Lia’s hands, turning it around to see Mr. Huang Lijun’s photo staring back at you. You send Lia one last look, walking around her to go change in the dressing rooms.
“Aw, you’re no fun.” You hear her whine, her footsteps echo through the hallway as she comes up behind you. She almost knocks you into the wall from how forcefully she grabs onto your arm and swings it back and forth like you’re two little kids on your way to the playground.
“Maybe we can shoot our shot at the old men?” You and Lia stop walking, turning to face each other for a moment of silence. You blink at each other as if you’re both considering it, before erupting into laughter at the ridiculous thought and continue walking down the hallway.
You and Lia constantly joke around about finding rich sugar daddies at work to pay for your college tuition, but both of you know you’ll never actually commit to the idea fully. Neither of you will admit it, but you both know you don’t have the guts to do something like that.
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By the time you, Lia, and your other coworkers change into uniform and gather your supplies for the Lee vs. Huang game, it’s already 10am. The air is crisp and cool, the signs of fall creep along your skin and taint the deep green trees in light oranges and yellows.
Despite the chill, you and your coworkers still wear skirts, long sleeve v-necks, and puffy vests; the only thing keeping your feet warm is a pair of short white socks and tennis shoes. You don’t mind the chill knowing that once the game starts you’ll be moving around enough to get warm. You stop thinking about your cold toes as soon as the door of the country club opens and the Lees and Huangs walk out.
The first time you lay eyes on Huang Renjun, you think your heart might stop.
You know it’s him because he walks close to his father as they make their way to where you’re standing by the golf carts. He has obviously dyed blonde color, his dark roots proof of that; it’s neatly gelled back in an effortless way with the light wind blowing a few of the locks gently as if an angel is personally moving them for him. His white jacket and black pants are slim and look like they cost more than all of your college textbooks this semester. He walks with his head high, his pretty, pink lips set in a straight line, and his almond eyes gentle.
Okay, so... maybe you understand the hype now.
“Good evening, ladies.” Mr. Lee announces, looking at you and your coworkers. You all politely introduce yourself and state who you’ll be caddying for.
Huang Lijun isn’t as tall as his son, but he looks to be more lively than Renjun, even at his age. He has a permanent smile on his lips and you can feel a friendly demeanor radiating from him when you approach.  
“Good Morning, sir. Let me take those off of your hands.” You politely grab the bag of clubs from him, feeling shy as his gaze doesn’t leave your face the entire time.
“You’re new here, right? I feel like I would remember you if I saw you before.” You’re surprised when he suddenly pinches your cheek, and he laughs at your shocked face. An unsettled feeling plants itself at the bottom of your stomach at the unwarranted touch.
“I’ve only been working here for a month, sir.”
“I think I’ll be coming around here more often, then.” He winks at you and turns to go sit in the front seat of the golf cart. You can’t help but let the feeling at the bottom of your stomach grow at how the older man looks at you. You definitely misjudged his “friendly” demeanor. Your eyes can’t help but glance at Renjun, who’s standing a few feet away from the whole interaction. He gives you a blank stare before turning and following his father.
In the past few weeks, you had gotten many lustful smiles and lewd gazes at your bare legs, but also many dollars in tips just in one morning by letting those smiles and gazes happen. The need to make ends meet justifies it all, and the cash you earn at the end of every shift only fuels this need.
The ride from the club’s main building to the first hole is short, so you quickly recompose yourself. You still have a job to do— a job you’re being paid lots of money for. You believe in your strong will to put up with whatever antics Mr. Huang pulls for the next few hours. Upon arrival at the first hole, you pull the bag of golf clubs out of the cart and follow in Mr. Huang’s quick footsteps, suddenly feeling sweaty from the exercise you’re getting by carrying these heavy clubs. When your group reaches the first hole, you set the bag down on the ground and press your hand over your face, but Mr. Huang’s voice startles you.
“Woah, there.” You jump and face him. “Those clubs cost more than my car, and unlike my car, they don’t deserve to be on the ground, darling.”
“Yes, sir. I apologize.” You smile shyly and pick up the clubs from the ground, your shoulders already straining to keep them up. ‘They weigh as much as a car,’ you huff.
This is going to be a long game.
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“You kids can clean the carts today,” Mina suddenly throws a keychain at Lia’s face, she barely catches it before it hits her, “I have plans.”
“Me, too.” Kara quickly says, following after Mina as they both walk away. The game ended right at lunchtime (the Lees won) and now you and your coworkers are back at the club. It’s supposed to be everyone’s job to clean the golf carts after they’ve been used, but it looks like today it’ll just be you and Lia… Maybe.
“___, please. I’m going to be late to the cafe, my boss there is already mad at me.” Lia turns to you and begs with her hands clasped in front of her chest, eyes pleading and feet bouncing. You sigh; you’re hungry and your muscles are sore, and all you want to do is go home as quickly as you can. Still, you roll your eyes and take the golf cart keys from her, making her face crack open into a smile as she hugs you quickly.
“I’ll bring you coffee on Monday!” She screams at you as she practically runs away, leaving you with two golf carts to clean. You sluggishly begin, crawling into the cart the Huangs were sitting in when you find a small notebook laying on one of the seats. Picking it up to examine it, you find out it’s your university’s yearly planner, a book that everyone gets at the beginning of every academic year. Along the binder reads “Huang Renjun” and your eyes widen, immediately looking up to glance at the direction that Renjun walked off to a while ago.
Your legs move quickly through the corridors of the club, moving past changing rooms, saunas, and bathrooms, the planner tightly clutched in your hand. Your head is on a swivel and your lower lip is stuck between your teeth, until you hear a door open and slam shut behind you, making you turn your head to catch Renjun walking out of a changing room.
“Mr. Huang!” You call out.. Renjun freezes at the name, spinning on his heel to see you walking towards him.
“Sorry to disturb you, but you left your planner on the golf cart.” You hold it out for him, but he doesn’t take it.
“How do you know it’s a planner? Did you look through it?” You blink at him, stunned, and then glance down at the notebook. You’re surprised by the sudden questions and at the same time annoyed that Renjun accused you of snooping through his things so quickly. The image you had of him earlier, graceful, classy, and attractive, slips out of your mind as he stares down at you. However, this is the first time he’s directly talking to you, and you can’t help the spark that ignites in your belly from the roughness in his voice. It’s higher-pitched, but unpolished and jagged as he speaks with you.
“No. I go to the same University. I have the same one.” You explain. Renjun’s stare turns into shock.
“Really? Which department?”
“Fine Arts. I study Studio Art.” At first you think that you’re seeing things, but after blinking, you can guarantee that Renjun has jealousy painted on his face. It’s so sour that he looks away, trying to preoccupy his hands by fiddling with his bag. “So, are you going to take this, or…?”
“Yeah,” The bitterness drips from his tone, but you have a feeling it’s not directed at you, “Thank you for returning it.” He finally accepts it and turns to his bag, taking out his wallet. The cards inside look thick and heavy; memberships to places you’ll never step foot in and credit cards with limits you could never even imagine. Your pride tells you that you don’t need anything he could give you, so you silently turn around and walk away.
Renjun shuffles through some crisp 10’s and 20’s, but when he looks up to give you the tip, you’re already down the hallway and halfway out the door. You have golf carts to clean.
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The next time you see Renjun is a week after the last game. The chilly weather remains, along with the useless uniform you have to wear, but this time around you’re not Mr. Huang’s caddie, you’re Renjun’s.
Kara walks next to you with Mr. Huang’s heavy golf clubs, her lips straight and head turned away from you to show her annoyance at how the caddie match up situation went this week. You’re sure to get an earful about this for at least the next few days, but you kind of like this revenge that fate dealt Kara. Either way, it’s not like there’s anything you can do about the match up. Renjun requested you to be his caddie this week, and you weren’t going to risk your bosses being angry with you by denying the request.
“Driver.” Renjun’s voice pulls you into the game. You pull out the correct golf club and put it into his awaiting hand, your fingertips brushing with his. “Aren’t you cold?” The words shock you, considering they’re the first words Renjun spoke to you today other than commands for golf clubs.
“I-I’m fine, Mr. Huang.” You respond promptly.
“Don’t call me that.” His tone is icy, and he quickly realizes how unnecessary it is to bite at you like that, “Just call me Renjun.” His father walks back from his shot, looking very smug. Renjun’s face is calm as he trades spots with his father and prepares for his first swing of the day, correcting his posture and loosening his limbs.
You remember the first time you saw him, how elegant and poised he looked. Your cold hands break into a sweat as your chest heats up from the quick beating of your heart. Renjun has only been icy and accusing towards you so far, yet you still feel warm while thinking about him. There has to be something wrong with you.
“Doesn’t my son look like he knows what he’s doing?” Mr. Huang asks from beside you, a small, unnerving smile on his lips.
“Yes, sir.” You reply back with your own, more innocent, smile.
“I taught him everything he knows about golf…. And women.” Mr. Huang leans into you, turning his chest to face you so that his breath is hitting your cheek. You can’t help but swallow to relieve your dry and cold throat, keeping your eyes forward as Renjun swings his club back and forth a bit in preparation.
“Yes, sir.” The only thought on your mind is to stop this man from stepping closer.
“Is that the only thing you can say?”
Renjun swings his arm back, breathing in as he keeps his eyes on the small white ball and his hopes in the green before him. Mr. Huang’s right hand is warm on your waist, but you would give anything to freeze right now.
A sharp crack ripples through the air as Renjun hits the golf ball and sends it flying into the golf course. His eyes are not where the ball lands, but instead on where his father touches you.
Renjun’s mom died when he was not even three days old.
He never got to meet her— to lay on her chest and hold her finger with his whole hand. He’ll never know what advice she would’ve given him when he got his first girlfriend, and he’ll never know how she would’ve reacted to him crashing his first car when he was 17. He only knows that his mom would’ve been there for him through all of that, unlike his father, who was not.
Renjun has had “mothers” through his life; three, to be exact. The first was when he was 5 years old, and she quickly asked for a divorce after Renjun’s dad went on a three month business trip and she didn’t hear from him the whole time. The second “mother” was a bit more mature than the first and with a lot more time on her hands. She wanted to shape 9 year old Renjun into a perfect student, which was something Renjun’s father appreciated, but still divorced her for “being too strong-headed.” Renjun only met his third mother twice when he was 13: once at the wedding and the second time at her funeral. He didn’t ask any questions, he wasn’t very interested in the first place.
These were the type of people Renjun spent his life around, but they really weren’t his mothers. The only similarity he had with those women was his father, and he treated them as poorly as he treated Renjun. That’s why when Renjun looks at you, cowering away from the very man who is his only link to family, he feels sick.
When is his dad going to stop being a fucking predator? How young does he want his next conquest to be? Will Renjun’s next mom be the same age as him? Something swirls in the pit of his stomach when he watches his father and it takes a moment for him to figure out what it is: jealousy. He’s not sure why he’s feeling jealous over someone he just met last week, but the feeling engulfs his whole chest and it burns him to his spot.
Renjun doesn’t even notice that he swung his golf club or that the golf ball went somewhere far into the green, probably an overshot. He only sees you, afraid of the man touching you but not stepping away. Why aren’t you stepping away?
“Nice job, Renjun.” His best friend, Jeno, claps a hand on his back as he steps up, hitting Renjun back into reality and forcing him to walk towards you. As Renjun approaches, his father slyly takes his hand away, and Renjun notices how you let out a relieved sigh. Giving you back his driver, Renjun strategically stands between you and his father, pretending to watch Jeno swing.
“Good job… Renjun.” You whisper, unsure about calling him by his first name so informally.
“Thank you.” Renjun sends a side glance to his father to see the displeased look on his face. “How was that, Dad?” Renjun hopes that maybe he can remind his father of why he’s here (to win against the Lees this week, not to feel up a girl 30 years younger than him) but in this moment, his father is acting like a 5 year old in the middle of a silent tantrum, not a 50 year old who runs the most successful construction company in the country.
“I’ve taught you better than that.” Renjun is sure they’re not talking about golf anymore, the authoritative tone in his father’s voice sends a lightning bolt of surprise and slight fear down Renjun’s back. He hates how he gets scared, he hates how his father can control him. The fury churns in the pit of his stomach as he accepts his father’s words with a bow of his head.
One day, Renjun swears he won’t submit anymore.
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After the game ended with the Lees winning once again, you, Lia, and your other coworkers convene at the golf carts after the clients leave to change inside the club.
“You ladies know the drill.” Kara throws both sets of golf cart keys at you before walking off with Mina. You push Lia towards the entrance of the building before she even has a chance to turn around and open her mouth.
“You should get to the cafe before your boss throws another fit.” Lia turns back to face you, her jaw slightly slack and her eyes shining.
“You’re seriously the best. I love you.”
“Yeah, yeah, just give me a few extra shots in my coffee on Monday.” Lia laughs at that, grabbing your face between her two small, manicured hands and kissing you on each cheek before hopping off inside. You can’t help but be amused at her antics, turning to the golf carts in front of you to start cleaning.
“They make you clean the carts by yourself?” The voice startles you, not because you weren’t expecting it but because it’s Renjun’s. You turn your head over your shoulder, he’s standing just a few feet away still in his golfing gear from earlier.
“Uh, not usually, no. But my coworkers haven’t been happy with me lately.” You explain, fully turning to him and crossing your arms over your chest to tuck your cold hands into your sides.
“The ones who have been working here for a while?” You nod as an answer, and Renjun nods back in understanding, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. “They’ve been trying to get with me and my best friend for a while...” Renjun trails off when he sees your eyebrows raise at the comment, “... But that’s not what I came here to talk about.”
“Oh? What are you here for?” The conversation has gotten too informal for a worker and their client to be having, but you kind of like talking to Renjun in this casual setting.
“I realized that the past few times we’ve talked I’ve been such a dick.” He laughs lightly as he remembers, “I wanted to apologize for that. I wasn’t in a good mood last week and this morning, and I ended up pushing it on you.”
Renjun feels lots of emotions when it comes to you, despite only having this one proper conversation with you. He feels envy towards you for being able to study something that he desperately wants to. He feels guilt when he remembers how quickly he made you into a thief when you were only trying to return his belongings, and he feels so many other secondary and tertiary emotions in between. His head is full when he looks at you. He finally feels like he’s thinking about something, not just doing the same day to day motions in a constant cycle of ‘when will this end?’
“You’re apologizing?” You ask, stunned when he nods his head in confirmation. Sincere apologies are important to you. You believe there are not enough of them in this world anymore, and his gentle almond eyes are too wholehearted and warm for you in this cold weather. Your heart feels full looking at him, and you curse at yourself in your head for being swayed like this.
“I also have a question… You mentioned you’re majoring in Studio Art and I was wondering if, maybe, you could let me into one of the studios after a class this week? I’ve been needing a quiet place to work since my house has been busy lately.” One of the hands that was in Renjun’s pocket moves to matte down his sideburns while he glances at his shoes. “Was that too forward? Sorry, I just know that you can’t get into a studio without a passcode and you’re the only person I know who’s in Studio Art.” Renjun explains after you stare for a while, blinking at him.
“You’re an artist?” You finally ask, Renjun giving you a weak ‘yeah’ in response. A part of you wants to say no, that it’ll be weird to do something like this for him when you’ve only known him for less than 2 weeks and up until this point, you’ve only been in a worker-client relationship. However, you’re curious about what he’s like outside of this setting, especially what he’s like when his father has no possibility of appearing, since that seems to be the factor that turns his mood up or down.
“Sure. Come by studio 3 after 6pm on Wednesday and I’ll let you in, but... I heard Mr. Lee already scheduled a game for next weekend?” Renjun nods, “Then in return, you can win that game. It’s embarrassing always being on the losing team.” You smile playfully at the end to let him know you’re only joking.
“Deal.” Renjun sends a smile back of the same caliber, holding out a hand to shake with yours. If you thought you were affected by Renjun’s nice presence, his hand in yours sends you into another realm. His touch is warm from staying indoors and from keeping his hands in his pockets, and they contrast to your cold skin. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when your hands connect, turning your hand in his grip to look at your knuckles. “Are you sure you’re not cold? Your hands are freezing.”
“I’ll be okay. I just don’t have any good gloves to wear while working.” He huffs, small traces of white smoke leaves his mouth as he digs through his pockets.
“Wear these.” He replaces his hand in yours with a pair of his own gloves, “Your hands are precious, they shouldn’t be freezing.” Before Renjun can get embarrassed by his own words, he shoves his hands back into his pockets and turns on his heel, walking away, “I’ll see you on Wednesday!”
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A knock on the studio doors shakes you away from staring at your painting, making you turn to look at who it is. Renjun peaks through the small window and waves when you make eye contact. You get up to open the door, almost forgetting that today is the day you agreed to let Renjun into your studio.
… Okay, that’s a lie. You definitely remembered that you’re supposed to meet Renjun, but you keep trying to convince yourself that you’re not excited about seeing him outside of that stuffy country club.
“Hey, sorry if I startled you.” Is the first thing he says when you open the door. He’s dressed in slacks, a dress shirt with a sweater over it, and a long coat over that. His nose and cheeks are slightly red from the rough wind outside and his supplies are clutched to his chest.
“Oh, you’re fine. I was just deep in thought.” Something about the studio makes both of you speak in hushed tones. No one else is here, but you feel the need to maintain the peace and quiet the room naturally holds. You and Renjun make your way to where you’re set up, he puts his things down on an easel to your left and takes off his coat, watching you from his peripheral vision.
Those uniforms they make you wear at work are just for show, Renjun knows that well, but that doesn’t stop him from appreciating you in the tight vest and little skirt. However right now, he likes your laid back look consisting of loose jeans and a layered shirt, he thinks it matches you.
“I was going to leave when you got here, but I think I’ll just finish this and head out.” You comment, aimlessly waving at your project.
“Please, stay as long as you need to. This is your studio, I don’t want to kick you out.” He laughs and licks his bottom lip. It’s breathtaking how innocent and nice his smile looks on his face. His eyes scrunch together to form laugh lines and his cheeks rise, he truly looks pretty when he smiles. You think this is the first time you’ve seen him like this.
You mumble back with a mixture of words that probably didn’t make sense and turn back to your work, leaving the room to continue with its peacefulness and quiet. However, Renjun’s presence next to you is too big to ignore. There are so many things you want to know about him and you have no excuse as to why you’re so curious.
“How about a game while we work?” You suggest.
“Sure… How about 20 questions?” It’s like he read your mind, so you smile and nod at his idea.
“You can go first.” You suggest.
“Okay, uh… Why do you work at a golf course if you’re majoring in Studio Art? Shouldn’t you be working at a, I don’t know, museum?” The question catches you off guard and Renjun notices how you stop painting, your brush and your hand floating in the air as you think, “Oh, sorry, is that too personal?”
“No, no… It’s just, normally, the first question people ask in a game of 20 questions is something like ‘what’s your favorite color’ or ‘what’s your sign’.” Renjun lets out a choked and embarrassed laugh, ducking his head down to look away from you. You can tell he’s about to change his question, so you quickly go back to painting and speak before he can.
“I did apply to work at several museums. I didn’t get any jobs, so I had to look elsewhere and Augusta was hiring. I know it’s not very fitting, but it makes good money and rich people know my name, even if it’s for just a few hours.” Renjun nods at your answer as if he could ever understand the idea of being poor, but the insight into your decision brings a fact to light that Renjun wasn’t 100% aware of before: you’re not like him, you need money.
“Don’t you hate the way people look at you there?” The words tumble out of Renjun’s lips faster than he can process the weight they carry. He turns to face you with guilt pooling in his eyes and his mouth opening and closing to find some words to correct the situation.
“No, I don’t like it.” You surprise him with your quick response, “But people like you don’t understand what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck, to have to worry about how to pay the bills every month for years on end, always on your toes about money. I bet you think I’m cheap and—”
“No.” Renjun cuts you off promptly before you can continue, “Don’t make me into a jerk. I’m not like that. But the fact that that is the first thing you thought of worries me.” Your eyes widen at that, prompting him to elaborate. “Doesn’t that mean that’s how you think of yourself? Maybe not on the outside, but subconsciously. Sure, I won’t ever be able to understand how you live, but I wish you would not look at yourself as cheap and think of yourself as… beautiful.” Renjun lets the last words linger on his tongue, saying it quietly as if to not startle you.
You stare at him, your paintbrush resting in your hand and your back slouched as you watch him watch you. This is not the type of conversation you thought you’d be having with Renjun tonight, but you have to admit he makes a point. Eventually, you turn to your painting and stare at it some more, making Renjun turn and continue his own work.
“Ah, I asked two questions in a row.” He suddenly breaks the tense atmosphere, making you sigh as you remember you’re just playing a game, “You can ask two questions.”
He allows and relaxes when he sees you go back to painting.
“If you like to draw, why are you a business major?” Now it’s Renjun’s turn to freeze. Maybe if he did ask what your favorite color was he wouldn’t have had to endure this question from you, but he feels like he should answer it since it’s of equal weight to the one he asked you.
“It wasn’t my choice. I will most likely take my father’s place in his company and I need to at least know the basics before that happens.” You nod slowly. He looks so calm when he’s focused on drawing, but it’s not the same calm that you see on his face when he’s playing golf. You turn away before you get caught staring.
“Is that why your mood always changes when your dad is around?”
“Is it that obvious…” He trails off and you nod, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this out loud, but… It’s like everytime I’m around him, or at his office, or at home, my mind goes blank. I don’t feel like talking or thinking at all.” As he speaks, he sets down his utensils and turns to you, making continuous eye contact as he explains. You find yourself feeling comfortable at how easily he’s talking to you about such a deep subject.
“It sounds like… you’re angry.” You turned to face him now too, your paintbrush settled onto your canvas and your full attention on him, “My dad is like that. He gets so angry sometimes that he’s calm. No yelling or fighting, just silence. That’s how I know I messed up when he gets like that.” You nod, remembering all the times he’s been calmly mad at you.
“I don’t know… It’s confusing to me.” He straightens his back and stares at your foot as it moves around aimlessly. “What do I do?” He asks into the air, as if his pencil would suddenly start talking to him like a therapist.
“Just do what makes you happy.” Renjun’s glance over at you makes a smile pull at your lips, “I know it’s easier said than done. But you already know what it is that’ll make you happy, and that’s half of the battle. Why bottle it up?”
Renjun doesn’t know how he’ll ever get the courage to tell his father these things, but the way you’re looking at him as if he can do anything, he starts to feel tingles of confidence trickle into him.
“Oh, and why did you pick me to be your caddie this past weekend?”
“Well…” Renjun plays with his pencil. What is he supposed to say? He doesn’t want you to carry around his father’s heavy golf clubs? He doesn’t like the way his father touches you and gets jealous over it for some unknown reason? Yeah, he’s not going to say.
“Just because… I wanted you next to me.” The way he says it makes it sound so simple and true, but your heart drops to your stomach and springs back up going at 100 miles per hour. You can barely stop your hand from shaking as you pick up your brush, and it’s almost like you can’t see in front of you from the thrill of his words.
“Hey,” Renjun suddenly drops his pencil and turns to you, looking a bit confused and slightly upset, “Didn’t you ask three questions?”
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“We’re letting the Lees win again today.” Renjun is in the middle of pulling up the zipper of his jacket when his father drops the news. Renjun’s footsteps stutter slightly at his father’s words and he stops walking next to the older man.
“Again?” He asks as he already thinks up an apology to tell you later when he loses.
“Yes, I need Mr. Lee to be happy when I bring up the new contract to him later in the sauna.” Renjun sighs and continues to walk next to his father. It’s the next weekend, and the third Lee vs. Huang game is starting in just a few minutes.
Renjun won’t lie, purposefully losing to his best friend and his dad every week is not the greatest stroke to Renjun’s ego, especially since Jeno won’t let it down around his other friends.
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Lijun swivels on his heel to look at his son, “Have you been requesting for ___ to be your caddie?”
The questions stuns Renjun, making it hard to answer so his father takes it as a yes.
“Well stop it. Dad wants to have some fun.” He claps a hand on Renjun’s back and  smiles. In the past, Renjun would’ve just rolled his eyes and let his father do whatever he wants, but this time his blood boils. He feels true anger when his father struts away with the intentions of doing whatever he wants to someone Renjun cares about. He can barely move his feet after the old man, his mind cloudy as everyone makes it to the golf carts.
“Let’s have a good game today, Mr. Huang, don’t make it too easy to beat you.” Mr. Lee jokes around and the two old men laugh as they settle into their own golf carts. Renjun walks up to his cart and you wave to him, the white gloves he gave you last week snugly on your hands. Renjun thinks his anger is what spurs him into doing what he does next.
He steps close to you, leaning into your ear and wrapping his hand around your covered ones with his thumb rubbing on your exposed wrist, “Keep these on for me, babe. I don’t want you to be cold.”
The amount of jaws that drops after Renjun’s words makes him bite down his smirk and slide into the front seat of the golf cart, pretending to not see the daggers his father is  throwing at him with his eyes.
Your heart beats so quickly and loudly you’re sure Kara can hear it next to you if she wasn’t busy huffing about what Renjun just did. Sitting in the back seat of the golf cart, you watch the back of Renjun’s head on the way to the first hole. What got into Renjun? Why did he all of a sudden call you ‘babe’ and get so close? Not that you’re opposed to it, you’re just shocked.
The game begins once you reach the first hole, and the Huang’s put up a good fight throughout the entire game, keeping the Lees on their toes and the score sheet even. Everytime Renjun comes back from a shot, you smile at him and tell him good job, which earns you a pat on the back from him that warms you up from the inside out.
Renjun can tell his father is getting more and more annoyed with him; how Renjun is keeping you as far from his father as he possibly can, the gentle touches on your waist that you welcome wholeheartedly compared to the ones Mr. Huang would lay on you before. He likes how angry his father gets, especially knowing that he can’t do anything about it right now. Not to mention, you seem to be enjoying Renjun’s attention, which just adds to his confidence.
Now, your group arrives at the last hole of the game. The Lees step up and swing, setting their total score to 357. All Renjun and his father have to do is move the ball around a bit more to get their score to be higher and the Lees will win the game. Mr. Huang is up first, acting clumsy so that the ball doesn’t make it into the hole and brings the game to Renjun.
As he sets up his posture, his hands suddenly go stiff. This shot is so easy to make, he has made this exact hole several times. He breathes in and out deeply, deciding on if he should throw the game like his father said he should, or give his one last ‘fuck you’ to his Dad.
He glances at you and makes eye contact; you nod your head and smile a bit as if to say ‘go ahead, we all know you can do this.’ Renjun then grips his golf club and swings it back to effortlessly hit the golf ball, rolling it along the green and perfectly into the hole.
You and the other caddies clap for the perfectly executed shot and Jeno and his father come up to Renjun to shake hands. They don’t look upset, instead they look pretty happy for Renjun. However, Renjun’s father is deathly silent, not even congratulating Renjun on his win. Renjun wasn’t expecting a whole ceremony for him, but it does feel nice to put his father down a peg or two today, and that’s the thought that fills Renjun’s head as everyone rides back to the country club.
While getting out of the golf cart, Renjun attempts to turn back to you but is promptly pulled away by the back of his jacket by his father. Renjun yelps and pulls away, but that doesn’t stop Lijun from grabbing onto his son’s arm instead and pulling him inside.
“What was that? I specifically told you to lose the game and you did the exact opposite. How am I supposed to talk to Mr. Lee now?” Renjun’s father fumes, his low voice belting out into the corridor and making some of the passing staff turn their heads.
“That’s not my problem.” Renjun shrugs and his father stops shaking, stepping closer to his son.
“Excuse me?” He asks with menace dripping from his tongue.
“I said, that’s not my problem.” Renjun is fired up. He doesn’t see a way out of this now, no way his behavior is being excused, so might as well go all in.
“You did it for that caddie, ___, right?” His father squints his eyes and turns his head slightly. When Renjun doesn’t answer, Lijun laughs in his face, “It looks like I’m right.”
“What?” Renjun asks dumbly.
“It’s okay. You’re just a boy and you can make some mistakes over a girl, we’ve all been there once or twice.” Lijun fixes Renjun’s jacket and pats his shoulder, his angry disposition turning passive. “Besides, you can’t do much for that girl anyway. Is a ball in a hole really all she deserves?”
“I won the game because I could. I won it because that’s what I wanted.” Renjun states, his blood beginning to boil once again when his father says he doesn’t deserve you. What is he thinking? Does he actually think he has a chance with you? He can keep dreaming.
“We can’t always do whatever we want. There are consequences we have to face for doing whatever we want. Are you ready to face the consequences?” At the question, Renjun is reminded about the words you told him Wednesday night.
‘Just do what makes you happy,’ Those simple words are so hard to turn into reality. Renjun wants to be happy so bad. He wants to be away from this man and he wants to be closer to you. The consequences? Sure, he’ll deal with it all if it means he can stop living in the personal hell his father set up for him. Renjun pushes his father away a bit and steps out of the trap his father pushed him into, making Lijun’s eyes widen.
“Yeah, I’m ready.” Renjun says and turns around, walking back towards the exit of the building.
“Hey, where are you going?” His father shouts after him.
“To do the thing that I want to do the most.” He yells back and walks around the corner, out of sight from his father. Renjun practically runs through the hallways to get back outside and run to you, but you surprise him by greeting him by the saunas. He stops in his steps and you smile as you walk up to him.
“Hey, I just wanted to tell you that you did really well today. I know I said I wanted you to win last week, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” You laugh.
“Thanks.” Renjun simply says, afraid of what else could come out if he keeps talking.
“Oh, I also want to give you these back.” You dig out Renjun’s gloves from your pocket, holding them out. This is it. This is the moment Renjun will start to do whatever makes him happy, whatever he wants.
And what he wants right now is you.
He quickly takes the gloves and then tightly grips the wrist of your outstretched hand, leading you down the hallway and around some corner. He hears you exclaim a small ‘woah’ but you let him guide you into a sauna, the door closing tightly behind both of you.
There’s no one else in the room, just the stuffy steam that floats in the small space between you two. Renjun has a tight grip on the gloves you gave back to him and his other hand runs through his hair and messes up the perfect form it held.
“Tell me to stop.” He demands, looking straight into your eyes.
“What?”
“Tell me to stop right now.” He takes a step forward, his eyes full to the brim with lust and his hands shaking with how much he’s holding himself together. You’ve barely been in the room for a minute, but your clothes are already sticking to you from the intense heat.
“I don’t understand,” You reply back as he keeps moving toward you. You take small steps back in return, “I don’t know what I’m stopping you from.” Half of you is playing dumb right now; you know what Renjun wants from you just by the look in his eyes. The other half just wants to hear him say it himself
“I’ll fuck you the way you deserve. Right here, right now.” Renjun’s voice is too angelic to say such nasty words, but he growls them out like he’s a tainted angel. You’re pressed against the wooden wall of the sauna now, Renjun just a step away. You lean into him slightly and rip the gloves out of his hand to throw them to the side.
“Do it.”
It’s all the permission Renjun needs to feverishly connect his lips to yours.
The action is so sudden, you don’t remember how Renjun got close to you so quickly. Despite his forcefulness before, his lips melt into you like chocolate melting over a fire, so hot and delicious that you just want more. His hands hold the sides of your face, pushing back your hair and his body pushing you back into the wall.
He sucks on your bottom lip, softly biting afterwards and making you let out a whimper, and then a moan when his thigh pushes between your legs and further presses you against the wall. Amidst the kissing, you find the zipper of his expensive jacket, unzip it, and pull the piece of clothing off. Afterwards, you pull his shirt off and break the kiss while you’re at it.
“I’ve been thinking about you in this skirt since….” Renjun hums at the thought, his hand sliding up your bare thighs and under your skirt, then he grips your ass and brings your core down onto his thigh, the friction enough to have you letting out a strangled moan.
“Since the day I first saw you.” He finally whispers and connects your lips once again. His hand on your ass doesn’t move, his other hand is placed on your waist as he helps you ride the rough material of his pants. Renjun can only watch your reactions; the way your head lolls back into the wall and your eyes screw shut, holding onto Renjun’s shoulders tight enough he’s sure there will be marks afterwards.
“Fuck— Renjun, don’t stop, please.” He’s mesmerized, absolutely addicted to how you look and sound right now, and it’s all because of him. The thought spurs him along, he removes your jacket and you blindly help him in removing your top and bra. You must look like a mess right now, especially since you’re coming close to your climax just by Renjun’s touch and his thigh. Not to mention the sweat dripping down both of you, a glistening sheen coating your skin that makes Renjun let out a low growl before he leans down and takes one of your nipples in his mouth.
He sucks and swirls his tongue, and you can’t help but moan his name again, digging your fingers into his blonde hair and tugging. Renjun moves from your chest downward, not letting an inch of your stomach and hips go past him without a kiss and a nibble, leaving you breathing heavily. He makes his way down to his knees and folds your skirt up, glancing at  you from his position.
“You don’t wear anything under here except your panties?” You nod, your head stuttering as Renjun applies pressure with his thumb over your slick hole, a wet spot already there to greet him.
“You’re so fucking dirty, baby.” He groans and leans in to swipe his tongue over your center making you shake as a response. He slides your underwear down and throws it somewhere to the side, catching the sigh of your arousal dripping down your thigh. His intense stare makes you shake him, embarrassment crawling over you at how he’s not reacting.
“Are you shy?” You whine, not really answering his question. “You don’t need to be. You’re beautiful.” The softness from his voice contradicts his more dominating tone from before, but you don’t have time to think about it before he dives in. You sigh in content when the pressure in between your hips caused by Renjun turns into pure pleasure. His tongue laps at your essence and his lips suck on your clit, you can tell he’s trying to find what exactly will make you tick.
When Renjun slides a finger into your hole unexpectedly, you jump and whimper a bit but the feeling of him sliding in and out along with his tongue circling and sucking on your clit makes a knot form in the pit of your stomach, tightening up your muscles and making your eyes roll back.
“Right there. Oh my god, right there…” You keep repeating, praying that Renjun treats you good and let’s you come. He adds another finger and you gasp, starting to move your hips in rhythm to his hand, holding onto his shoulders for more stability. He glances up at you, watching your eyes screw shut and your tits bounce as you use his hand to get yourself off. Renjun hums against you, and you can almost feel the ecstasy of coming undone, until Renjun pulls away. You groan, feeling like crying when your orgasm fades.
“Hey..” You whine, pouting when Renjun stands back up and licks your juices off of his lips. He has some on his chin and you bring your hand up to wipe it away, Renjun stopping your hand and kissing the wetness away, then kissing up your arm and to your shoulder, up your neck and to your ear. He tugs at your earlobe, licking the skin under it and biting some more, his hands sliding up your waist at playing with your nipples, pinching a little to get whimpers out of you and making your hips buck up, ready to continue where Renjun left you at.
That’s when you feel the hardness in his pants; it must be painful. That’s why you understand his next words, whispered into the shell of your ear between kisses: “You’re not coming until I’m in you, got it?”
You nod quickly, attaching your hands to Renjun’s zipper and button, undoing them and sliding down his pants.
“But, you’re gonna need to do something for me…” He says, helping you pull down his boxers, watching his angry, red length swing out. You gasp, feeling a bit bad that you just left Renjun like this to eat you out, but you’re sure you can make up to him now.
“What is it? I’ll do it.” Your hands run over Renjun’s sweaty shoulders, moving away some longer hair in the back of his head that’s sticking against his neck.
“You’re gonna have to yell my name. I need you to let everyone know who’s doing this to you— who’s making you feel good, okay?” Your breath gets caught in your throat as the words tumble out of his lips. He tilts his voice higher at the end of every phrase to make him sound innocent, but you’re not fooled.
“There’s people outside…” You mumble back, sending a glance at the door. You know there are several staff and customers walking along the hallways outside. What will they think if they hear you screaming Renjun’s name? Not to talk about what will happen to your job.
Those thoughts melt away when Renjun’s dick slides between your folds slowly, making you turn your gaze back to him and hold on tight as he lubricates himself over your wetness, holding onto your hips so that you don’t move and take anymore than what he’s giving you.
“That’s exactly why I want you to scream. Can you do that for me?” He asks and you nod frantically, doing almost anything to get his dick inside you. You’re not sure what’s going to happen once you step out of this room, but at least you know Renjun is going to give you the best fuck you’ve had in a while, and you know it’ll be worth it for what’s to come after all this.
“Finally…” You moan when Renjun’s length disappears into you inch by inch, going slow as to not hurt you. He sucks in a breath through his teeth as he bottoms out, picking up your thigh to hang it over his hip and wrapping his other arm around your waist to keep you close. You hold onto him, adjusting as he kisses your lips sweetly and carefully, and waits to move his throbbing cock through your velvety walls.
“Go, Renjun, move….” You whisper, and he looks at you confused.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you.” He asks, cocking his head.
“Please, move.” You say louder, but he shakes his head and purses his lips as if he still can’t understand.
“I said, fuck me, Renjun. Please, can you fuck me already?” You all but scream out, your voice almost cracking at how whiny you sound. No doubt, if someone passed by outside they would’ve heard you. The thought makes you tense up, but it feels so good to be able to yell out what you want.
“Your wish, baby.” Renjun mutters before he starts rocking into you. You both groan at the sensation, Renjun’s hips speeding up as he gains more momentum. His lips don’t leave yours, kissing you into oblivion while his dick stuffs you. He has you against the wall, his hips powering away and you don’t dare to disturb him, realizing he’s burning all of his anger away as well.
“Yes, Renjun, fuck me just like that…'' You moan loudly to spur him on, now not really caring about who’s outside or who hears you, just wanting Renjun to know you love how rough he’s going. He presses you higher up the wall and pulls your legs apart more, hitting a new angle that literally makes you scream out, tears mixing with the sweat on your face as he relentlessly pumps into you.
There are so many things going on at the same time. Your hard nipples and soft breasts rubbing against Renjun’s chest, making goosebumps rise on his arms. Your hot and sweaty bodies are basically sliding against each other. The clapping of his hips against yours no doubt attracts attention from outside along with your screams and Renjun’s grunts continuously get louder as you both get closer to the climax.
“I’m gonna come… Renjun, come in me…” You’re already fucked out, the words barely leaving your lips coherently, but Renjun understands and moves his finger down to find your clit, circling his thumb fast and steady, just like everything else he’s doing.
“C’mon come on my cock, babe. Let it out, I wanna hear it.” And just like that, you unwind and scream his name as your orgasm washes over and takes control, making you claw onto any part of Renjun that you can reach. Renjun feels your walls deliciously convulse around him and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he comes into you and fills you up, staying wrapped up in you as you both calm down.
Renjun presses small kisses wherever he feels like as your breathing settles down, his softness and the caring way he rubs at your sides and hips where he was holding so hard that you’re sure to have bruises makes you smile hazily.
“___… I don’t regret any of this.” He whispers into your skin, leaning back to look at you properly. “Do you?”
“No.” You answer truthfully, making his eyes shine and you both smile dumbly, your sticking bodies relaxing. The happy moment doesn’t last long before there’s a knock on the door to the sauna. You and Renjun stiffen up as you glance at the door, waiting for whoever it is to announce themselves.
“Renjun? Son?” Your heart drops to your stomach and you cover your mouth at the voice of Renjun’s father on the other side of the door, but when you turn to Renjun, he doesn’t seem bothered. He sends a smile at you and moves some hair from your face before answering.
“Occupied, go somewhere else. We’re busy.”
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