#fun fact: i have been sober for every single post ive ever made
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Ranting all autistic-like in the group chat about how fucking lame the brainiacs in the star trek TOS pilot were. Total incel activity radiating off those guys. It was awesome how bitchless they were lmao Loved them. Also someone tagged one of my posts "fish posting" and I want them to know that's funny as shit I'm so fucked up dawg. Did y'all know that the giant Australian cuttlefish pretends to be a girl fish so it can be a part of the dominant male fish's harem and mate with the females in secret?? The brain dudes shoulda learned a thing or two yo. Also I am completely sober from anything and everything while writing this I just have adhd
#fun fact: i have been sober for every single post ive ever made#shitpost#shitposting#dank humor#fresh memes#dank memes#fishposting#star trek#star trek tos#star trek pilot#marine biology memes#marine biologist#autism#autistic rant#infodump#special interest
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âWell, itâs great to have you back here in our chambers again. And by that, we of course mean that itâs literally the worst to have you back here in our chambers, C-136.â Thereâs a definite familiarity in the way Riq IV utters his indicative numerals that rings almost personal, but understandably, thereâs little fondness behind his severe greeting. Jesus Christ, he thinks to himself sourly, this fucking Morty again. âYou know how this goes, so letâs get right to it. State your name and dimension number for the record, turd.â
âYeah, well, hereâs somethinâ for the record: Iâm not- Iâm actually not too jazzed about it myself, yâknow? Every time I get hauled here, I gotta- I gotta look you guys in the faces for like, an hour. And theyâre really ugly ones.â Morty rebukes, arms folded over his chest defensively. His insides quiver like jelly. Deep down, heâs actually really not so good with this confrontation stuff, believe it or not. What Morty is? Still, he canât half pretend to be unflinching when a situation calls for it. Nerves sufficiently steeled and outward appearance nothing short of done with this shit, he obliges the demand. âMortimer Smith, Earth Dimension C-136. No additional numerals applicable.â
âWatch it.â Another council member snaps suddenly, already infuriated by the blatant lack of respect, and Mortyâs gaze drifts to the secondary speaker. Hazel eyes rest upon the decrepit figure boredly, and he inwardly debates whether itâd be worth it to point out he doesnât even know the name of any of these other assholes- thatâs- thatâs about how relevant their input is to him right now. Probably shouldnât, he concedes grudgingly. Donât bite the bullet when it comes to spitting snark, yâknow? Employing restraint now leaves wiggle room to get away with saying more once this discussion inevitably goes to shit. He looks back to their spokesperson wordlessly, gaze expectant.
âYes, Rick Prime, youâre absolutely right. He says what weâre all thinking! Now... let me see what youâve gotten up to this time, C-136. While Iâm reading the report over, why donât you go ahead and tell me: who the fuck do you think you are? And why do you think you can get away with this shit? Weâd all love to hear it.â Riq IV gathers up the loose-leaf before him and taps the papers against the imperial desk he sits behind, neatening the stack before beginning to look them over.
âI donât think Iâm anyone- anyone... look, I didnât do anything wrong,â Morty protests defensively. âThereâs nothing Iâd even be getting away with! Thatâs- whateverâs written there, it wonât- itâll all be a bunch of bullshit!â
âReally? Because let me tell you, this is all lining up very well with what weâve come to expect of your character.â Riq IV heaves a world weary sigh, bracing himself for whatâs to come (this particular turd, and the circumstance of his Rick being such a generous contributor, always makes everything so difficult), and passes the report along for the other council members to peruse. Canât effectively threaten this one, really. But like hell he wonât try. âHereâs our working theory, turd. You believe that youâre special, and brave, or some shit, and- and you think that because your Rick happens to donate to us often that we have to tolerate this kind of shit from you and take it on the chin. That your actions here donât have consequence. Am I in the ballpark, C-136?â
âNot even close!â
âThen do you want to tell us what the fuck happened?! Do you want to, oh, I donât know--- clue the council in on why you saw fit to push a Rick to the ground, stamp repeatedly on his ballsack, and punch him in the face until... he- cried---? Jesus Christ, in- in hindsight- this geezerâs not reflecting on us well. How does this even happen? He got fucked up by a Morty? I mean, at that point, you pretty much deserve whatever happens, right? What the fuck was I even reading there, yâknow?âÂ
Riq IV isnât quite addressing C-136 come the end of that impassioned order for an explanation, and is instead glancing at the other members incredulously, brow knitted indignantly. The other four Ricks murmur heatedly in irritable agreement, though theyâre keen to point out Mortys should never possess the balls to lash out at a Rick violently regardless. With a nod of his head, the spokesman looks down upon the yellow-shirted bastard beneath him, and snaps, âWhenever youâre ready, C-136. Take your time! I know you think this Citadel bows to your goddamn whims either way. Go ahead and phone a fucking friend- why not? Youâre- youâre a little monster.â
âOh, Iâm ready, you stupid haircut having- youâre a- dumb ass motherfucker,â Morty spits vehemently, gritting his teeth, before catching himself. His gaze briefly averts, as if in wordless apology for his blunt outburst. He draws himself up slightly, gesticulating with his hands as he attempts to get across his reasoning. âLook, I know it sounds bad. It was bad! It was! I know. But that Rick, he- he was, he was pushing this Morty around, being such a dick, making fun of him, and- there was... he didnât even have a reason! That Morty was mute, yâknow? Heâd- heâd had his tongue cut out, or- or maybe ripped out by some sorta alien... I donât know. He was making this awful gurgling noise, he was frightened, and- what, was I just supposed t- to walk on by? Pretend I couldnât see that happening?!â
âThatâs exactly what you were supposed to do.â Riq IV says pointedly, as if affronted he has to clarify the obvious at all. âWe can only assume that Morty was behaving in a way to make him deserve that, just as you should have assumed, turd. Besides, Iâll have you know that tongueless Mortys are in, uh- pretty high demand, for the more morally ambiguous Ricks. In fact, Iâm pretty sure we offer services for a humane snip of the tongue. We do that, guys, right? ... Maybe itâs more of a black market thing? Yes. Itâs- itâs just an adjustment that can be made to you little bastards, for a price, much like implanting chips into your spines and weaponizing you for efficiency. And let me tell you something: itâs one that I plan to recommend to your grandfather if you continue to push your luck. Our tolerance only goes so far, no matter how much of an asset Rick C-136 is to the development of our Citadel. We wonât exactly crumble without him.â
âFuck you! Wh- what the fuck is WRONG with you?! Y- you wanna know something?! You wanna know what I think?! Donât answer: I- I know you donât, but fuck you, and listen up anyway! Every single one of you BASTARDS are DEFINITELY gonna die with each otherâs dicks in your throat from how much you suck each other off! How can you sit up there, and say shit like that, and- and not hear how fucking awful you all sound?!âÂ
His gesturing hands have long since returned to his sides, and his arms are tensed where they rest- C-136 is acutely aware of the fact that heâs trembling, shaking with anger that has never felt more well founded. Despite himself, he curls his fingers and balls them into fists, as if- as if he could swing for those smug motherfuckers up there from all the way down here. Morty has to jut his chin just to regard them with all this fury, and thereâs nothing to goddamn do with it- his breathing quivers from his lungs tensely, and thereâs a challenging look crystal clear in his blazing eyes. Canât do anything about it, the reminder bangs in his brain. The Guard Ricks posted all around donât even motion to grip their guns tighter, because they fucking know it, and the council fucking knows it, and they know heâs painfully aware of it, too.Â
Their broad, shit-eating grins say it all--- at least, they do, until Ricktiminus Sancheziminius sees fit to glance upward briefly by chance, and winds up visibly starting, and fixing his gaze on something else entirely. Somebody else. Somebody other than the spectacle of that notoriously difficult Morty having an outburst. Ricktiminus Sancheziminius nudges Riq IV sharply in the side, and upon gaining the otherâs attention and irritable acknowledgement, indicates the new arrival to the spokesman. He soon sobers, flashing the figure at the entrance to their chambers a bemused look- and the others are quick to follow his lead. Mortyâs brows knit, and he glances over his shoulder- heart sinking---no, outright dropping---deeply into his stomach the very instant heâs processed it.Â
Fuck.
âAh, your keeperâs here, C-136. Rick Sanchez, earth dimension C-136! We presume our message reached you in a timely manner... and yet, enough time has passed for your grandson to spit vulgarities at us for quite a while. I certainly hope we didnât pull you away from anything important...â Riq IV smiles strangely, almost as if simpering. It doesnât quite reach his eyes, and there is something deeply false to the curve of his mouth. Belching, he waves a careless hand, as if to dismiss his own backhanded, apologetic sentiment before the other can even respond to it. â... Though it begs the question of what could be more important than the Citadel. We both have this societyâs best interests at heart, after all.â
âYeah, y-eeeuurgh-eah, what-the-fuck-ever.â Rick replies, sweeping into the chambers and standing at Mortyâs side, flashing him a deeply vexed look. He probably heard that whole last part, and out of context, it doesnât really reflect well on the flicker of patience he's been trying to maintain all the while. âI was balls deep in the concept of time when you motherfuckers called me, so ex-cuse me if Iâm not particularly chirpy about being called over this time around. He- he better have at least killed someone, is what Iâm saying. I was getting action. Literally fucking with time. I- I donât wanna fucking be here for anything less.â
Mortyâs mouth falls open as he hastens to try and explain himself, ready to trip over his own spluttering words until Rick comes to understand that he was just trying to help- before he realizes, dully, that it wonât even matter. Huffing, the teenager simply looks askance, knowing full well Rick wonât take his side on this. Almost canât take his side on this. Though itâs not like the other ever strives to have his back anyway.Â
This train of thought is a bitter one, and it rattles through his head so loudly, all the biting reminders that heâs in a room full of people who donât give a shit what he has to say in the slightest, that he briefly tunes out from the exchange between the council and his disapproving grandfather. Their words are little more than buzzing in his ears, but he doesnât miss much. Theyâre just filling his companion in on what shit trick heâs pulled this visit. A sharp flick against the side of his head soon bumps him back to reality, and a deep scowl curls the sixteen year oldâs lip as he rubs it, fighting the innate urge to bitch. Rick scoffs at him, before turning his attention back to the six alternates perched up there.
âSee that? Not even listening. Look, this time last year, Morty was all over the Citadel, just like I am. Nobodyâs saying anything about taking issue with this place. Nothing but support in the C-136 household. Heâs just going through a little phase, in case you canât tell. You ever had a sixteen year old Morty? Nightmare. Rebellion, heâs all- all stick it to the Ricks, yâknow? Heâs just being a c-eeeuurgh-ontrary little shit. Christ, the whole reason heâs here is to pick some crap up that I ordered- did you even fucking get around to grabbing that, Morty? Before you started swinging for Ricks?â
âYeah. I got it.â Morty says shortly. âLaruxion ore.âÂ
He finds himself physically biting down on his tongue, as if to chastise it prematurely as it twitches to run away with him about what a nightmare even just grabbing Rickâs shit was, too. The shopkeeper glared down at him, and asked a few dozen hostile questions about what a Morty was doing picking up something so volatile, so potentially dangerous, for his Rick. If it were up to me, heâd declared, unwillingly bagging the package up all the same, you wouldnât be running around with something like this. Taking it to your Rick or otherwise. Guy canât pick up his own shit?
âAw, jeez. Well,â Morty had shot back, unable to help himself, âdonât you all think weâre too stupid to do anything smart anyway? Either you think Mortys are capable of falling the entire Citadel with this ore, and you wonât fork that shit over to me because of that, or you think weâre dumbass, i- incapable, um, yâknow- sidekicks. In which case, thereâs- thereâs no harm in handing it over to me. Right? Just saying, yâknow. Y- you guys should pick a lane. Aw, jeez.â
Suffice to say, Shopkeeper Rick was not impressed with his take on the matter, and all but threw the bag across the counter into Mortyâs fumbling hands, before angrily shooing him off.
âMight as well have done it myself. Canât even run an errand without getting stirred up in shit. Look, council,â Rick grouses, pinching the bridge of his nose in a show of utter annoyance, âLetâs just call this square. We all fucking paid for his shit trick today, right? I got blue balls, you had to, uh... rightfully bitch at him, waste your... precious time on a dumbass Morty. And heâs gonna get a fucking earful. Iâd- Iâd say it wonât happen again, but, Christ- is- was he even entirely in the wrong? If a Rick can get taken out by a Morty, heâs not exactly a valuable member of this society. The society I funnel a lot of fucking cash into on a monthly basis, might I add. G- g-eeeUURGH-etting pretty sick of the same old bitchfest about every toe my moron puts over the line when heâs here. Do you guys do this for every Morty that acts out? Iâm just sp-eeEUURGH-itballing over here, but- I kind of thought I was donating to people that had slightly better shit to do than pull my Morty up for being a little- a little angsty, or whatever the fuck, right now.â
â... We do this for Mortys that repeatedly cause issues within our citadel. Which yours does to the point of notoriety, C-136. If youâd only rein in your Morty, this wouldnât be an issue to begin with---â
âOh, my God- shut the fuck up! Shut the fuck UP---â
âMorty, YOU shut the fuck up. Sorry for him, as usual. Are we done here?â
â... Of course. We, uh, weâd like to reiterate our gratitude for your contributions to maintaining the-â
âYeah, yeah, leave me another f-eeEUrrrgh-ucking voicemail about it. Come on, Morty. Y- youâre gonna- Iâm gonna fucking kill you when weâre outta here,â Rick chastises, and reaches out to grip his forearm and pull him along as he paces away from his six alternates, muttering darkly under his breath all the while. Visibly nettled by the threat, the sixteen year old bitches top note and makes several efforts to wrench his arm free- and easily manages it once theyâre back in the sea of alternates that is the main hub of this hellhole as Rick reluctantly eases his hold.
âDonât grab me! And- and yâknow what, donât bust my balls about this, either. Would it kill you to be on my side? Like, ever? Wh- why would I beat on anyone for no goddamn reason, Rick?!â Morty explodes, and his grandfather rakes a hand through his tufts of blue hair and glares.
âYou know exactly why, Morty. Besides. Iâm not exactly in the business of backing you up- not sure if youâve noticed. Because youâre never actually in the right. Youâre just taking everything to heart and poking your nose where it doesnât belong, as usual. Got that?âÂ
Thereâs a certain bitterness behind his words. How the hell do you think itâs going to reflect on me if they know Iâve never been able to put a lid on your shit, Morty? Rick sets off walking, and for a moment, Morty hangs back- hesitating to follow, eyes narrowed fiercely at the otherâs retreating back... before he groans, and hastens to scramble through the thick crowds and catch up, demanding an explanation all the while.
âWhy do you even put up with their crap, Rick? I- I donât get it. Youâre throwing money at a bunch of dicks, t- to support something you donât even- to support the fucking Shitadel?â Morty gesticulates wildly, hazel eyes narrowed and gaze intent as he regards his older relative, forearms raised and fingers splayed out in a demonstration of utter bewilderment. âIâm just trying to understand why- why the fuck you would do that! Yâknow? Y- you donât even like this fucking hellhole! The people who live here donât even like it! I just, I- I donât---â
Rickâs shoulders slump under this bout of badgering, and, if only to quieten the idiot down, he caves. Lowers his voice and mutters quietly, so as not to be listened in on by anyone around them.Â
âYou donât g-eeURRGH-et it? Yeah, I heard you the first time. Look, M-Bomb, if I know those assholes---and I am those assholes---being, yâknow, blatant about hating their fucking guts isnât the way to go. If I say what I think, tell âem to suck my balls and shove their society up their ass, how- how exactly do you see that playing out for me?âÂ
Rick pauses, as if awaiting an answer. Bewildered, the teenager beside him blinks a tad owlishly, and at long last, opens his mouth in preparation to fumble for some sort of answer. The very moment he begins to speak out uncertainly, his grandfather purposefully presses on with his point, much to the boyâs visible aggravation.
âIâll tell you how itâs gonna play out for me. I- I know itâs a little beyond your, uh, limited understanding, Morty. Theyâre gonna scout for a new paypig, come in the night, haul us outta home, take my portal gun, and make me a fucking janitor, Morty. Meanwhile your dumb ass is gonna- youâll end up in that shitty Morty School, taking classes on how to bark great idea, grandpa, like- like some mindless little moron who canât think for himself. Theyâd parade you around as an example of how well they break you little bastards down into yes-man sidekicks, since youâre such a stubborn piece of shit. And thatâd be if y-eeEUrgh-ouâre lucky, by the way.â
â... Ha. Yeah, well, donât- donât talk like you wouldnât like that. The last part, I mean.â He snorts, and a brief flicker of amusement brightens his companionâs resigned expression. Rolling his eyes, Rick rolls his shoulders into a shrug as they walk, moving through the sea of yellow-shirted teenagers and lab-coated fossils.
âOnly if you donât talk like you wouldnât get a fucking kick out of seeing me scrub a toilet,â he snipes, and they exchange a glance.Â
Thereâs a brief, strange moment wherein something shifts between them- all the unspoken anger, the seething temper, the typical wariness that clings to the air that hangs between them seems to all but ebb away.Â
Morty cracks first. The corners of his mouth twitch upward slightly, a fit of snickers rises in his throat... and the second Rick clocks that heâs going to burst out laughing, he cracks up, too. They laugh, and they laugh, and just when it seems that theyâre going to calm back down, they catch each otherâs eye and lose it all over again. The other Ricks and Mortys waiting in line for a return portal to their dimension cast them strange looks as they all but giggle feebly beside each other, adamantly refusing to meet each otherâs gaze in a fervent effort to recover, now; letting things lapse back into their norm.Â
All good things eventually draw to a close, and sure enough, this temporary, shared moment of reciprocal sentiment is one of them. The teenager canât help but push it, however. Let it last just a minute longer. I wonât hate you again, just for a fraction more time. Donât hate me again, just for a bit longer. While Rick moves to procure his silvery flask from his pocket, amused grin easing in the corners as his expression becomes idly impatient once more, Morty inhales, picking at a loose thread on his sweater if only to busy himself with something, too.
âHey, Rick?â His tentative broach at conversation is met with a grunt while the old man slugs back his potent alcohol supply. Casting his grandfather a tentative smile, he fidgets with his fingers. â... Thanks. And- sorry. I- I know you hate, yâknow, this whole- paying off this shithole, so we donât wind up here, and stuff. And seeing those motherfuckers, and their stupid haircuts, more than you have to.â
... The sentiment doesnât quite have the effect he wanted. Rick doesnât smile back, once heâs finished downing the last drops from his flask. His brow narrows as he shoves it back into the pocket of his lab coat, and he shakes his head dismissively, refusing to take the attempt to uphold their good mood at face value. Disdain creeps right back into his tone- that distaste and disapproval over Mortyâs every choice today rearing itâs ugly head with a vengeance, it seems.
âYeah. I do. So I guess you owe me b-eeUURGH-ig time, Morty.âÂ
He returns simply, and Mortyâs heart sinks upon registering the snippy edge to Rickâs tone... before he soon finds himself frowning deeply, annoyed with himself for even trying; consumed with that aching anger once again. Thereâs a certain, undeniable comfort to be found in how familiar the feeling is. Losing the moment of enjoying one anotherâs companionship, of things being how they were some two years ago again, stings. Undoubtedly. But itâs better not to dwell on them.Â
Part of him always wonders if itâs his fault they are the way they are. Keeping each other at armâs length. Essentially communicating through picking fights over nothing, and bickering over absolute bullshit, with terribly occasional, painfully rare warm moments interspersed amidst all of their resentment. If he were only more wide-eyed and naive, Rick wouldnât be like this with him. Right? Rick thinks that Morty doesnât know precisely what his fucking problem is, but it doesnât exactly take a genius to decipher why heâs so harsh with him most days. Read between the lines of his grandfatherâs unspoken resentment.Â
No. It takes a smart, capable Morty, unafraid to call him or anyone, really, on bullshit, and injustice. And he never wanted that. What sort of Rick fucking does? The entire point of a Morty is to stand beside you, go along with whatever you say despite their own rightful apprehensions, to freak out and struggle and be impressed, awed, and horrified by the shit you pull. Theyâre sidekicks, but theyâre never supposed to be all that competent. Thatâs the role of the Rick, after all. C-136 was fearful and clueless when they adventured in his youth, sure. There was a time. But he outgrew it far too fast, picked up on things far too quickly, keen for approval he didnât want to give purely because of how actually deserved it was. Jesus, even as a kid, he was perceptive. Intrusively so. Full of cutting observations--- with alarmingly poignant outbursts over how Rick conducted himself, dripping with disdain for his behaviour, being plentiful from the tender age of eight.
Rick speaks.
â... Quit pulling this shit.â
Morty snaps.
âQuit being shit, Rick.â
They fix one another with a long, lingering look. It feels like a game of chicken- daring the figure across from them to be the one to break the prolonged staredown theyâre locked into... and in turn, out himself as the coward ultimately too afraid to face up to the other. It ends in a perfect draw; grandfather and grandson tear their gazes away at the same moment, scoffing over how stupid it was at all, deliberately shuffling to sit a few more inches apart from one another.Â
Distance from it, the duo both decide sullenly. Never as different from one another as they like to insist, unbeknown to the two of them. All you can do. He canât be told.
Rick and Morty, Earth Dimension C-136, await their assigned portal back home in silence; the balance restored in their uncaring world, and dynamic decidedly chilly once more.
#rick and morty#morty smith#rick sanchez#alex writes!#long post cw#HMMM. I DON'T. LIKE THIS. BUT I LIKE PARTS OF IT SO I'LL POST IT#please stamp on my head this literally SUCKS AND I ACTUALLY TRIED FJHDSJFHGDSHJG FUCKKK#I REFUSE TO NOT POST IT BECAUSE IT TOOK EMBARRASSINGLY LONG BUT. I WISH IT WAS BETTER.#i'll sleep and look at it again tomorrow and if it makes me cringe i'll slam that delete#c136!
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buttercup ⢠pt one
⢠pairing: yoongi x fem!reader
⢠genre: smut + slight angst
⢠au: college!au, fwb!au, stoner!yoongi, assholeish!yoongi, fuckboyish!yoongi fwb to lovers trope
⢠word count: 6k+
⢠warnings: smut, honestly mostly porn, unprotected sex, recreational use of drugs & alcohol, dirty talk, praise, degradation, ridiculously excessive use of pet names, fingering, dom!Yoongi, unprotected sex, slight dumbification (whoops), hair pulling, creampie??, oral (f receiving), pussy slaping, reader has a thing for Yoongiâs hands because who doesnât, reader and yoongi are both sarcastic and oblivious, this part is basically pwp.
⢠synopsis: Min Yoongi wears leather jackets, fucks you like he hates you, spends most of his days on the wrong side of a blunt, and calls you the sweetest names when no one else is around. And you definitely arenât falling in love with him.
⢠authorâs note: so yes, buttercup is being cut up into two parts thanks to a lot of my life getting uprooted this week!!! ill spare you the details but everything is really chaotic rn so im sorry this isnt exactly what i promised :( thank u for all the insane amont of love ive gotten so far. this is a pretty um... filthy piece of writing skfjsd and itâs definitely not perfect and id love to get better with everything i put out on here but i hope u guys enoy ily xx
If there was a magic lantern hidden somewhere on the campus of this university, youâd find it and your first wish would be to make it so that no one found out about this whole illicit affair youâve been having with Min Yoongi. The secrecy was fun, sexy like you guys had a whole Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing going on. Or something. Your second wish would be to make his dick vibrate.Â
But then he just had to go and go down on you in a bathroom during a party at the Beta Tau Rho house, not even a month into the fall semester, knowing you wouldnât be able to be quiet or subtle at all. And he was so smug about it too, the fucker.
You can still feel the embarrassment buzzing under the surface of your cheeks from when you walked out that bathroom door and a dozen frat boys and mutual friends of yours and Yoongiâs were out there, waiting for the two of you to emerge and giving you a round of applause when you did. Yoongi had just laughed and rolled his eyes before leading you to the kitchen to get the pair of you some drinks. Heâs always been particularly good at brushing that shit off of his shoulder. You arenât, but youâre pretty good at pretending.
Maybe you should have ended it all that night. Of course, you didnât. You figured, hey, youâre young and in school so fuck making good decisions. Of course, the fact that no other guy has ever been able to dick you down nearly as well as Min Yoongi can is probably a huge contributing factor.Â
Sure he might be grumpy, and sarcastic, and he tries way too hard to look cool and nonchalant, but heâs also the first guy to ever make you squirt. And youâre pretty sure that the way he waxes poetic about your pussy would make even Shakespeare swoon. So maybe the pros outweigh the cons, but only just.
âI canât believe youâve been getting Yoongi dick for almost three full months and havenât divulged every single detail and vein to me, you cold, uncaring bitch-â Jiminâs voice is far too loud for the student-run coffee shop the two of you regulared every Sunday; a tradition that Jimin always insisted upon. He loves his traditions almost as much as he loves destroying any personal boundaries between the two of you.
âKeep going Park, see if I ever buy your coffee again.â
âDonât change the subject,â You canât say youâre surprised that Jimin is reacting like this. Self-proclaimed âdisaster bisexual,â Jimin was one of the very first friends you made back when you were a shy, barely functioning freshman.Â
He actually introduced you to all his frat brothers, and a large number of the people you now call your friends. Including Yoongi, whose dick seems to be a reoccurring topic between you and⌠most people you know. Even if they werenât at that dumb party, Jungkook made sure that every living being that stepped onto campus was aware of the newly found out fuckbuddies.
âWe donât keep anything from each other, Y/N,â Heâs whining over his coffee now, full lips perched in that pretty pout that he regularly uses to his advantage. âI even told you about that time I puked on Namjoonâs dick in our second year!â
âMmm, and I wish you hadnât told me, Minnie-â The visual still haunts you, but Jimin has never had any predilections when it came to oversharing, especially not with people who have the misfortune of being his best friends. ââSides, I didnât figure it was important, the whole Yoongi thing-â
âHis dick, you mean.â
âBecause itâs not like weâre getting married,â You carefully ignore him, a useful habit youâve picked up three years into being his friend. âJust sex, remember?â
âSo fucking what? You told me how you sucked Jeonâs cock in a movie theatre less than twelve hours after it happened-â You take a large gulp of your own iced coffee to busy yourself when the shameful memory is brought up. Not shameful because of the promiscuity of the act, no youâre an adult, thank you very much, but rather because of the boy you performed them on. Jeon Jungkook is now more of an annoying younger brother to you than anything. Not to mention heâs got a giant mouth that couldnât keep a secret even if it killed him.
âJesus you couldâve picked any other example-â You groan out as Jimin smirked, receiving the exact reaction from you he wanted. You think youâd have learned by now. âIâm sorry, okay? You big baby.â
âHey, youâre on thin ice,â He points an accusatory finger at you and you have to fight the urge to smack it out of your face. âNow you have to make it up to me.â
You sigh- Jimin can really be exhausting when youâre only half a medium coffee in. âAnd how do you expect me to do that, Park.â
âDick details, fucking obviously,â He says it like youâre a moron for even asking. And maybe you are. âWell details in general, I guess. You know, the basics; length, girth, does he make you call him daddy, is he good- I mean he must be un-fucking-real if youâve been bouncing on it for three goddamn months, you whore.â
âIâm not giving you measurements, Jimin, Iâve yet to take a tape measure to it- and stop assuming everyone has a daddy kink just âcause you do.â
âOkay, vanilla bitch. Youâre lucky I already know heâs got a monster cock from that time he streaked at that post-mid-term party next year.â
âThen whyâd you even ask?â
âTo see if youâd tell me the truth. It was a test and you failed.â
âI may be a college student but youâre gonna have to threaten me with a little more than a failing grade to spook me,â You roll your eyes playfully- thereâs no real threat in his words, there never is.
âYouâre right, Iâm sure youâd much rather be punished by Yoongi, huh?â
          ..............................................................................
Watching Yoongi roll a joint, his long, slender and experienced fingers moving quickly and deftly, has always had this near hypnotizing-like effect on you. His apartment smells like weed, the scent never surprising and would almost be overwhelming if you werenât so used to it by now. The sight alone is almost enough to make you wet. But youâre stronger than that- except for when youâre not.Â
Sexy hands aside, but unfortunately not on you, youâre thankful for his cannabis-related expertise because a) you canât roll one yourself to save your life and b) despite normally reserving your consumption habits for parties, you feel like you deserve a fat one after the week youâve had. What with, you know, the stress of having every student on campus knowing about yours and Yoongiâs torrid affair, thanks to fucking Jeon Jungkook. Brat. Plus incessant goading from both Jimin and your roommate, Irene- equally angry as Jimin about your worst kept secret- has only made you sink further into your insecure and paranoid thoughts.
The weed would help, youâd told yourself when your phone pinged with that much anticipated whatâre u up 2? late night text from the raven-haired devil himself. Yep, it was the weed, the comforting blanket of getting high. And had nothing to do with the boy that was offering them. Not even his fat cock or magnetic pull he seemed to have on you.Â
âAlright, dove,â He says from his spot on his worn-out single-dorm couch- the names donât tend to surprise you the way they used to. You kinda figured that the affection-starved Yoongi had just you know⌠gotten comfortable with the girl he had been fucking for the last couple of months. No big deal. Sure they made your heart swell and your panties dampen, but then it could be looked at as a positive.Â
He looks up at you from his spot on the couch, where heâs uncomfortably hunched over the table as he works and notices how youâre looking rather spaced out- not entirely rare for you. Heâs used to the hundred-mile stare you tend to adopt when deep in thought, though itâs considerably less common for a sober you.
âDove?â Nothing. âY/N?â Itâs the use of your actual name from his lips that finally grabs your attention. You finally turn your head to look at him, the glaze of deep thought finally leaving your eyes. An eyebrow quirks to let him know youâve heard him, but his gaze remains piercing and unwavering on yours. âYou need to stop worrying so much, dove.â
âThatâs what the weed is for, Yoongs.â
âThe weed? Youâre just here so I can smoke you out then, huh? No ulterior motives, hm?â His tone is as dry and sarcastic as ever, qualities he had quickly become known for around campus. He shurgs âFine. Just here to sesh. Câmere then.â
You scoot closer to his side of the couch, not even thinking twice before listening to him. His tongue is tantalizing as he licks the rolling paper, even if he doesnât mean it to be. Heâs almost always tantalizing to you.
âDonât be grumpy. You invited me over,â Your words are softer than you meant, but your proximity to him makes you feel stilted. He was right, you really needed a smoke, more on edge than ever.
âWell, technically,â He starts, unlit, perfectly rolled joint now perched between his lips. He grabs at your legs before continued so that you were resting sideways on the black couch, legs strewn over legs, thighs touching thighs. âI invited the best pussy on campus over.â You crinkle your nose at his bluntness.
âYoongi-â You scold indignantly and pinch at a well-toned bicep. âDonât be an asshole, you asshole.â He grins despite the insult like heâd expected it. Or heâs revelling in it.
âYou know Iâm just fucking around, angel,â His arm tucks around your waist comfortably, pulling you even closer. âTryna chill you out. I can tell when youâre all strung out. I know how you,â He pokes you in the middle of the forehead, still grinning, as you pout from being called strung out. âTick.âÂ
He really does, doesn't he? The thought is mildly terrifying, and you think that Yoongi might be too smart or his own good sometimes. When heâs not smoking himself into another dimension, that is.
He leans back into his seat, uncurling from around you to finally light up. A few sparks later and the room is fogging up with overly pungent smoke- the cheap smell makes you think that he probably bought it off of Hobi, too lazy to go any further off-campus than his own block of apartments to one of the nice but relatively affordable dispensaries. You crinkle your nose at the scent, grateful heâs too distracted to notice since heâd probably just tease you for liking the fancy shit more. At least you trust Hobi, and he lives only two buildings down from Yoongi. Truly an age of convenience.
A few passes, tokes, whatevers later, and youâre feeling substantially... floaty. Youâve completely relaxed, choosing to lie down rather than put the effort into sitting up, though your legs are still thrown across your equally high counterpartâs. Whatâs left of the roach is left to burn in one of many strategically placed ashtrays around the apartment, this one being on the living room table.
Yoongi has barely moved in the past while, head resting lazily on the back of the couch, black hair messy and his neck- which is somehow handsome to you- stretched out, and hands resting against your bare knees. Youâve barely paid him any mind, the silence nothing but comforting and easy.Â
Which is why you canât help but jolt just a little in surprise when those hands, the hypnotizing ones youâre so obsessed with suddenly start creeping up your legs, halfway up your thighs, carefully kneading the supple flesh he finds there. He chuckles at your reaction, finally picking his up his head to watch you through heavy-lidded eyes. âBet youâre extra sensitive right now, huh petal?â He doesnât have to bet because he knows itâs true, knows how needy you get when youâve smoked. And he loves it- itâs why he never makes you pay for any of the times he smokes you out.
âFuck off,â You whine at his light-hearted teasing, but Yoongi just giggles- he fucking giggles- in response, hands still travelling the expanse of your thighs.Â
âBe nice,â His words are still jovial, but thereâs a gruffness behind them that sends a shiver down your spine, despite the relative stuffiness of his living room.
âI am nice, youâre just a dick,â You pout- childish, but you canât quite come up with anything more clever at the moment. The jab may be weaker than your usual quips, but Yoongi seems to have decided itâs enough to warrant a punishment of sorts, as he sends a quick slap onto your thigh. Itâs certainly not the harshest hit youâve received from him, itâs more playful than anything, but itâs enough to make you whine, not even noticing when your own hands jump down to grab at him and your now sore flesh.
His eyes take on a new sort of darkness, beyond the dilated pupils from the high heâs in the middle of as he grabs at your wrists, any assault you had planned halting in its tracks. His large hands that youâve drooled over- figuratively and literally- many a time are big enough that he only needs one of them to hold both of yours steady. He uses his grip on you to yank you back up to a sitting position, where your noses almost touch and you can feel his breath fan across your lips.
âI told you, I know how you tick,â He lets his tongue swipe out to wet his lips, the act distracts you and makes you mimic it with your own tongue and lips. The smirk he gives you is all at once wicked and panty dampening. âWhich means I know you like it when Iâm mean. I know you like when I treat you like this, like my little slut,â The word makes you draw in a breath as your face reddens in humiliation and tension. âAnd- and I know youâre probably soaking through your panties right now, all over my couch. Making a fucking mess.â
It infuriates you to no end how right he is as your breaths come out shaky and uneven as you feel your pussy flutter around nothing beneath your shorts and panties.Â
âArenât you?â His tone doesnât leave room for playfulness anymore, and youâre nodding dumbly before you can give it a second thought. âGood girl.â
He doesnât give you any time to bask in the praise before heâs leaning in to capture your lips in a searing and sloppy kiss. Heâs domineering even in the way he kisses you, teeth biting and tongue sweeping into your own mouth as he revels in the small sounds that escape you. His hands leave your wrists, freeing them so you can grip onto raven locks with a newly freed hand as his own wrap around your waist.Â
Every sense is filled with him, and it is all at once comforting and exhilarating.
He tugs and roughly manhandles you so that youâre properly astride his denim-covered thighs, your lips never untangling in the process. When your lips finally do come apart, itâs with a lewd sound and a gasp from your mouth. Heâs still smirking.
âGonna fuck you so good petal,â Yoongi has always been so blunt and unforgiving, whether in bed or out and it had been one of the things that first attracted you to him, besides his obvious good looks.Â
Before the two of you had even gotten together, when you were friends who didnât fuck on the regular, you had even mustered up the courage to touch yourself to the thought of him speaking to you like this- your own fingers circling your clit and delving into yourself without abandon. You had only been able to imagine up a fraction of his sexual prowess.Â
Like the time only a few weeks ago you admitted to him in a foggy haze, high than you think youâd ever been. how youâd brought yourself to climax with images and soundbites of him flitting through your head. Heâd immediately made you put on a show for him- recreating those nights, but this time with him sitting feet away from you and ignoring your pleas for him to touch you.
Right now, however, the only things keeping you grounded in reality is the feeling of the muscles in his thighs flexing beneath you, though nowhere near where you truly ache to be touched, and one of his hands brutishly tangled in your hair, pulling harshly so he can have easy access to your neck. Plush lips start soft, kissing and licking at the skin there, before his teeth join in, biting and sucking like he loves the taste of you (because he does).
âY-yoongi-â Youâre trying to keep the whimpers at bay, like maybe if you stop yourself from seeming so turned on so fast itâll get him to fuck you faster. âCâmon, just fuck me already.â
âSo demanding for such a needy bitch,â He has you squirming on his lap and you donât know why you thought you had any power over him left. âHave you forgotten your place? Canât think of anything else but getting fucked, huh?â
You nod in agreement, but find out he must want a verbal response when youâre met with a sharp spank to your ass that has you squealing and bucking into his lap. âYeah, yeah Yoongi âm sorry, just need it.â
âI know, baby, I know, you canât even help it when you get all messy like this, I know,â You canât decide whether his words are sweet or patronizing when he coos at you like that, but either way heâs got you another pair of panties.
âNeed you to fix it, Yoongs,â All pride is out the window when heâs got you like this, and you love pleading with him to give you what you want almost as much as likes making you beg.
âI will,â He gives you one more harsh bite to the junction of your neck and your shoulder that you know will blossom into a bruise just in time for your 10 AM class tomorrow and you hiss at the mingling of pain and pleasure. âNow fucking get up,â He pats lightly at your thigh twice at the order.
Youâre in no position to disobey, and you know from experience that not listening to him will end up with a sore ass and no release in sight. You stand up on shaky, doe-like legs and he grins at the sight of you. He stands up with you, his lean form and strong stance making him look taller than he really is. Then his long fingers are pulling at what little clothing you have, stripping you of both your tank top and your shorts and your bra isnât far behind. Soon youâre clad only in your panties while heâs still fully clothed in black form-fitting jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Thankfully he leaves his cliche, but devastatingly sexy leather jacket at the door.
He doesnât make any move to undress at all and you hope to god he will eventually- you love seeing his honey-coloured skin covered in a thin layer of sweat as he fucks you into oblivion. But for now, he stays fully clothed and he roughly pulls you by your upper arm until he can bend you over the arm of the couch, panty-covered ass high and perfectly on display for him.
âGod, youâre fucking dripping,â He taunts, fingers running over your pussy through the thin cotton, making you whine into the rough cushion your face is resting on. âAll this from almost nothing, huh? Youâre such a fucking slut for me, shit.â He sounds genuinely amazed by you and when you uncomfortably crane your neck back to get a good look at him you let out a proper moan. He must have stripped his shirt off when you werenât facing him, because his chest is bare for you to gaze at, or you would gaze at it if you werenât distracted by the hand that isnât on you, which is lazily working over his cock, rock hard and aching through his jeans.
He smirks when he notices whatâs grabbed your attention, knowing youâre only moments away from quite literally drooling on his pillows. âIs this what you want? Hm?â
âYe-yeah your cock, Yoongi, need your cock,â Your face burns red and blood burns hot as the crude words leave your mouth.
âAnd youâll fucking get it, dove,â The cute name contrasts the second harsh spank he lands on your ass and you moan at the delicious sting.Â
You think that he must be about to tear your panties off and sink into you, but that would be too predictable and Yoongi loves to keep you on your toes. Instead, he disappears from your line of sight, a dull thump coming from the hardwood as he drops to his knees, feline gaze now level with your cunt.Â
âYoongi-â Youâre whining again, and you even have to hold yourself back from stomping your foot childishly because, god, you just need him to do something.
And then he finally does- he licks a thick stripe, right from your clit to your entrance, still over your panties, and you gasp in surprise. He does it again, twice, three, four times until your hips are bucking and youâre whining because you need more, you need him to actually touch you and not be a giant fucking tease for once in his life.
âBe fucking patient,â He hisses out, but at least heâs finally rolling your underwear down your legs to toss them somewhere across the room. âOr I swear to god, Iâll hold you down just like this so you canât even squirm while I get myself off all over your messy cunt,â His hand is running up and down your bare pussy as he speaks, spreading the wetness around, to your clit and your thighs and your ass and then back again. âAnd then Iâll send you home without touching you or cleaning you up, so youâll have to take the subway home covered in my come and fucking trembling. So be fucking good.â At the last word, he lands a mean slap against your gushing cunt and you let out an embarrassing squeak.
âShit-fuck- Yoongi, please, just-â You stutter through your words, needing to get them out, though you donât know why. âIâll be good, okay? âM your good girl, I am, promise, Iâll be good.â
He doesnât respond, at least not verbally. But you have to assume heâs happy with your desperate response when he finally delves into your pussy like a man starved, tongue licking into you, the muscle sending spasms up and down your legs. You have to muffle your moans by biting into a pillow, not needing another altercation with his neighbours, but you want nothing more than to yell his name as loud as you can until your voice goes hoarse when he shakes his head from side to side, tongue still buried inside of you and one of his hands now roughly circling your clit.Â
Itâs too much, but itâs not nearly enough. Itâs when he switches positions between his hand and mouth that you think you might explode; his mouth latches onto your clit, tongue circling and playing with it and two fingers fucking into you, preparing you for the impressive girth of his own cock.
Your teeth let go of the strong grip it has so you can warn him of your impending orgasm. âYoongi- gonna come-â You manage to choke out between barely quieted moans.
You know that he wouldnât be able to respond if he was still suckling on your clit, but you still whine and wiggle your hips as he pulls away, earning you yet another spank to your rear, where you can only assume a nice handprint is forming. âYeah? Want you to come all over my face, like a good messy whore- gotta come for me before I can fuck you like you need.âÂ
When his mouth finds your swollen clit again, you canât help it as your orgasm barrels through you almost violently, every muscle tensing and fingers grasping at whatever they can find, neighbourâs delicate sensibilities forgotten as you moan out Yoongiâs name. He licks you through it, fingers no longer pistoning into you. When the last of the tremors have faded he finally pulls away, using his clean hand to wipe your mess off of his chin, though it hardly cleans him.Â
âGood fucking girl,â The roughness with which he was grinding his still covered bulge into your now sopping wet center would be impossible to ignore even if your head werenât a million miles away. But for now, everything is Yoongi, every single scent is filled with him and you think that that might be making your head even fuzzier than the drugs coursing through your system, but youâre too far gone to be sure. Or to even care.
Because all you can think about is his mouth-watering hands kneading at the slightly pinkened skin of your ass, his mouth-watering cock rutting against you and his mouth-watering, well, mouth pressing wet kisses and occasional bites up and down your spine. âYoongi,â You meant to speak with at least a little more conviction, but his name comes out as little more than a mumble.
âHm,â He hums against your skin and even those slight vibrations reverberate straight to your heart, which starts beating faster at the thought of whatâs to come. âWhat, is my babygirl still needy?âÂ
The use of the word my in front of the affectionate name makes your heart jump, but you donât even have time to scold yourself for thinking with your post-orgasmic pussy before he continues talking with that sinful mouth of him. âSuch a greedy, desperate girl, wonât be happy âtil youâre stuffed full of my fat cock,â His words have you whining and grinding back against him, where you donât have to look to know youâre leaving a stain on his favourite jeans. If youâre unlucky- or lucky depending on your mood- heâll make you clean it up with your tongue as further delicious torture.Â
But smoking makes Yoongi needy too, no matter how much he teases you for the effect it has on you, and he canât wait much longer, not with his cock so hard he was a razor bladesâ edge from losing his mind. He needs to be inside you as much as you need him.
Which is why you donât doubt him for a second when heâs murmuring things about how heâs âgonna fuck you so good, gonna fuck you stupid,â and you can only respond with even quieter whispers of âI knowsâ and âpleasesâ as he strips himself oh the rest of his clothes, hissing from oversensitivity as his cock makes contact with the air. Itâs wonderfully overwhelming and heâs not even fucking you yet.
You canât even explain how grateful you are when Yoongi turns you around because you love just seeing his cock. Youâve never been one to describe guysâ dicks as pretty before- except that TA you managed to fuck before Jimin sunk his claws into him, Kim Seokjin, because, well, youâre not blind. But Yoongiâs dick is gorgeous. Itâs not the biggest thing youâve ever seen, and it doesnât have to be, not when itâs girthy enough to make you salivate with a curve that points to the heavens. Gorgeous.
Heâs pulling you on top of him so he can sit back down and youâre back to straddling him, and you donât complain because you know heâs tired both from the pot and crouching on his haunches for access to your center not two minutes ago. Plus he loves when you ride him, breasts bouncing in his face, wetness making a mess out of his lap and full access of your entire body for both his hands and lips.
âNeed you to bounce on my fat cock before I fucking explode, baby,â And youâd have to be some sort of a madwoman to deny him.
âNeed it too, Yoongs,â You donât know why you feel the need to remind how desperate you are for him, surely he can feel it, your swollen pussy resting only centimetres above his throbbing length. âCanât think of anything else.â
âI know,â Heâs rubbing the angry red tip against your sopping folds, tinges of overstimulation making you jolt. Or you would jolt if his hands werenât heavy on your waist, keeping you steady so you couldnât a) get away from his cock or b) properly sink down onto it. âSo pathetic and perfect for me like this, all cock drunk and fucked out and I havenât even fucked you yet, huh?â
You nod frantically, and you canât even find the energy to be embarrassed when a hand comes up to pet your hair with a condescending âaweâ as he pouts at you. You bat his hand away with a whine and furrowed eyebrows, but all that gets you is his hand tangled in your hair, yanking sharply in retaliation. âCareful, slut, or you wonât be coming for the next week-â
âPlease, Yoongi-â You donât let him finish, knowing from experience to always take his threats seriously. âIâm sorry, Iâm fucking sorry, okay just please-â
You cut yourself off with a high pitched, tea kettle-like squeak as he uses his hands on you as leverage to have you sink down onto his cock in one fell swoop. âShit, god, youâre always so fucking tight around me, fuck me.â
I am, is what you wish you were coherent enough to snark back with, but youâre sure no one would blame you if they could feel what you feel right now. And what youâre feeling right now is how well Yoongi feels inside of you, like no cock youâve ever had. Every ridge and vein on his cock fills you up to the fucking brim, no room left for a pinky or a thought that has to do with anything other than Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi.
And then he starts with those devilish moments of his hip, fucking into you shallowly and slowly to start and itâs all Yoongiâs dick.Â
âFucking bounce on it, dove. Fuck yourself on my cock, show me how much you need it,â He speaks through gritted teeth, each word a struggle as he tries not to fuck into you without thought. And itâs with the satisfaction you get knowing heâs just as desperate for you as you are for him that you find the strength to do as he says.
With quivering thighs, you push up and off of his cock, the two of you sharing a harmonious groan at the feeling, foreheads pressed against each other, skin sweaty. And this all just in the calm before the storm.Â
Itâs not long before the both of you are moving frantically, mere seconds, really. Itâs intense and all-encompassing, as you grind and roll your hips, cock deeper than you knew to be possible, and his bucking his own hips into you roughly, no doubt as deeply in some sort of euphoria as you are. His hands are everywhere and so are his lips. He sucks marks into your tits and gropes your ass, controlling your movements to the best of his abilities.
All of that, plus your clit grinding against his pelvic bone every other second and your head just might be in another universe.Â
Yoongiâs words are swirling around in your head, though youâre not properly taking any of it in- his velvety voice goes on about how wet you are, how tight you are, how youâre a good girl and itâs all another instrument in your downfall. Youâve never been much for heights but being with Yoongi feels like something akin to what you assume bungee jumping is like, and youâre just about at that point where your cord runs out of length and your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach.
âTell me youâre fucking close, baby, câmon,â This is as close to pleading as you can ever get Yoongi but youâre still swimming in pride. He brings a hand off of your ass to cup your cheek, brushing away your now mussed hair and a single stray tear and you drink in the look in his eyes, dark red-rimmed and needing. âGonna fill you up with my come, just like I know you like, my perfect little cumslut, fuck, just need you to come first, yeah? All over my fucking cock.â
And with a particularly hard grasp at your ass, bringing you to grind your clit against him again, youâre gone. Itâs considerably less intense than the previous one, as many second orgasms are, but your head is still spinning and you think you might have drooled a little, but you donât mind and you know Yoongi doesnât. Your attempts to stifle your moans are unsuccessful as the name of the man attached to your favourite cock falls from your lips like a mantra.
And where your orgasm is, Yoongi is rarely far behind- he loves seeing you fall apart around him, because of him and you always clench so fucking hard around him in the peak of your pleasure how could he fucking not. Heâs grunting, moaning, damn near growling as he spurts his own release as deep into you as he possibly can, coating every inch of your delectable pussy, vague mumbles of how heâs filling you up, just like youâre meant to be that you can just barely hear.
Shakey breaths hit each of your faces as you come down, now still and worn out. Your chests move up and down and you donât know when youâve buried your face into the crook of his neck, but the warmth and smell are more comforting than any hit youâve ever taken off of one of his blunts.
âShit, buttercup,â He chuckles, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and where youâve tucked yourself He runs a hand through his sweaty black locks, the other hand locked around your waist. âI donât know how weâre gonna move without making this couch fucking disgusting.â Mood killer.
âDonât give a shit.â
âYeah, but I do. Especially if Joon or Hobi someone finds it and makes a big fucking deal out of it, like no other guy in his twenties has some come stained furniture.â
You pull back from the spot you wish heâd just let you fall asleep in so he can see your pout. He canât find the sight of you⌠adorable? Your hair matted, bruises, courtesy of yours truly littering your tits and chest, a thin sheen of sweat making your skin glow and bottom lip jutted out exactly enough to be overexaggerated and so fucking adorable.Â
At that moment heâs glad that about three weeks ago the two of you had started to break the unspoken no sleeping over after sex rule because he just wants to clean you up and feel you curl yourself around him like you like to.
You donât know what time it is, just that itâs late and that it doesn't matter, because this was certainly time well spent. You wonder how much sleep youâve given up in lieu of Yoongiâs pretty dick. Of course, it does matter... because you have a 9 am class tomorrow morning that you canât miss, but thatâs for future you to worry about. For now, itâs time to try to get up without defiling this Ikea couch (you failed miserably and giggled about it while Yoongi groaned in mock pain), burn out just one more joint, steal some clothes for bed and some snacks from his fridge, and pass the fuck out on his bed, which you think is way better than yours, but that has nothing to do with the boy in it or his comforting warmth and smell.
           ..............................................................................
Past you is a dumb bitch. Also maybe current you. Point being, you hate you, because youâre sore and stiff and ten minutes late to your dumb 9 am class and itâs all Yoongiâs fucking fault. You texted him this much, calling him a âlittle bitch boyâ for not even waking you up to make you a cup of coffee with his fancy instant coffee machine before you left. He hasnât responded yet because holy fuck does that guy sleep like a rock. A really cute, cuddly, sex-god rock.
But, as usual, Jimin came in clutch, handing you off a coffee as your paths crossed on campus, each of you heading to your respective classes. He gave you a one-armed-too-tight hug and a comment on how you have that very glamourous âI got fucked by Min Fucking Yoongi last night and you didnât so Iâm better than you look.â You tried to take it as a compliment as you thanked him for the coffee. He gave you a cute kiss to your forehead that reminded you you could never even be annoyed at him for too long.
And now youâre in class. Headache from not getting enough sleep getting worse by the second while you tried not to think about what judgements people must be passing on you, with your sunglasses inside and hickeys you didnât have time to cover up.
When your phone pings you assume itâs Jimin, with something slutty or sarcastic or both. But itâs not. Itâs Yoongi- well, itâs what you have Yoongiâs number saved under, aka the drooling emoji three times over⌠Youâre surprised heâs awake, youâre pretty sure he doesnât have shit to do until the afternoon.Â
You have a fleeting thought that it could be a dick pic- yeah itâs a little early for that kind of dumb fuckboy behaviour, and youâd previously thought that too, but Kim Taehyung proved you wrong last year.Â
Yoongi isnât a dick pic kind of guy anyway. No, heâs the guy that sends pictures of his hand around your throat that one night you let him take artsy photos of you two fucking on his film camera. The kind of guy that sends you audios of him jerking off and moaning your name that you listen to through your earphones in between classes because he knew you wouldnât be able to help yourself. Heâs the guy that drives you crazy because you can never quite predict what heâs gonna do next.
[9:23 am] From đ¤¤đ¤¤đ¤¤: you could have woken me you know dummy
[9:24 am] From đ¤¤đ¤¤đ¤¤: subways are gross in the morning
[9:25 am] From đ¤¤đ¤¤đ¤¤: i could have u know, driven uâŚ
[9:26 am] From đ¤¤đ¤¤đ¤¤: cant really say no to u buttercup.
You donât know why youâre heartâs beating so fast so you reprimand yourself for thinking with your pussy. Min motherfucking Yoongi is gonna be the death of you.
#bts smut#btswritingcafe#yoongi smut#yoongi x reader#bts x reader#buttercup#bts fic#yoongi fic#bts fanfiction#bts oneshot#bts writing#def not my best work but u know JKFDHKJFHS
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a list of my entirely way too niche headcanons ive actually implemented for everyones imagination:
name options ive used and refuse to retire: david elizabeth strider (sometimes i dont feel like being a douche to others and saying thats not his name), harley davidson strider, and david james strider for the sake of simplicity
im not gonna tell yall the like. oc exes ive given him bc thatll take eighteen years.Â
i dont rlly have an explanation on the ghost thing besides the fact he just can? ive occasionally pulled from family ghost stories and experiences bc i somehow got landed with family members who lived in a haunted house for a decade and enjoy scaring me with all the stories (including the time my cousin literally died on the kitchen floor from a bronchial spasm and one of the friends that was over asked my aunt later what was up with the old man she saw in the corner of the room that night - my cousin is fine btw shes just a huge bitch and a third grade teacher and i dont like her)
whether or not hes done drugs is based on absolutely nothing besides how im feeling in that moment. either hes the designated driver and sober friend forever or he got fired from his job after doing a line at work during graveyard with some random customers theres no inbetween (this absolutely happened @ waho. if dave works at waho hes a mess of a person and thats on the diner itself.)
ok look i hc dave w/schizophrenia besides when i was 14 i had a hyperfixation with learning about it and then at 16 was prescribed a medication and had side effects so wack my therapist genuinely thought 14 yr old me was onto something and its a weird way to cope with the idea that lady put in my head that i might âdevelop it in my twentiesâ which i turn 20 this year and i havent been able to stop obsessing and panicking over the prospect so PLEASE dont come in my inbox calling me ableist im not out here all harley quinn in suicide squad with the voices ok hes medicated, he goes to therapy, the hard fast delusion that lil cal was nearly sentient and informed bro of every single thing dave did no matter how asinine it was is no longer a debilitatingly affecting him ANYWAYS
i actually use the chicken/egg farming family pretty often just because its hilarious to me to give dave like. an actual mom and dad. hes literally an uncle to like three different kids he just never visits because they make fun of his skinny jeans and he hates one of his (incredibly bare-bones ocs all of them) brothers who threatened to bash his head in with a little league bat after dave broke his star wars lego set apart on accident (but not rlly) so their parents were like âwhy dont you stay with your brother in the big city for a lil while champâ and then they just never picked him back up? and thats on favoritismÂ
the other one is that his name is actually david reed and hes the middle child of a family of three who literally live the standard golden retriever white middle class life only they went to disney land or something equally as dumb one year when dave was like 6 and he wandered off so bro literally just went âhuh free gameâ because frankly he was an idiot who thought maybe i should take this kid home because its real dangerous in parking lots and then it was too late to NOT have it seem like a kidnapping and thats why daves never had a summer job, seen his birth certificate, or gone to school. but vaguely remembers what kindergarten was like and having a pet dog and calling someone mom as a kid.Â
im not making a bullet point about his sex life headcanons just use your imagination and acknowledge the fact bro essentially worked within the sex industry and i enjoy putting dave through trauma as a catharsisÂ
i stopped doing this one usually but if he did go to school hes been in percussion since fifth grade and played the drums in his high schools jazz band as well as various edgy teenager garage bands he likes to pretend dont have a youtube presence and that hes absolutely never been shirtless in front of plenty of his classmates because he wore a hoodie to a show like an idiot. idk occasionally ill put him in an actual band he doesnt hate but keeps separate from his lil turntechGodhead internet persona (which i will ALSO touch upon in a sec) until they wind up getting looped into a tour with some bigger named band that has a show in *insert beta kid here*âs city and hes gotta come clean solely so he can visit his online friend. sorry derseasterous thats the one time weve ever run into each other and i made him have a crush on one of his bandmates i was in my anti-daverose phase where i made dave a hoe and also didnt want to admit i still loved the ship all these years laterÂ
i hate it so much but you know the whole vr loli trap voice shit that was popular a while ago? hes fucking baller at it for some reason. he did it as a joke while talking to bro and they both about shat their pants. if im feeling real ambitious, hes got a separate soundcloud solely dedicated to doing dumbass rap covers or making his own but in the voice under the pseudonym elizabeth âbethâ davids that he will never admit is his. well, he will, but hes gonna be really fucking embarrassed about it. irony or not.
talking abt seperate soundclouds and stuff ive always had it where turntechGodhead was his like. essentially internet fucking persona facade shit he used because we all had that phase where we wanted memorable urls and stuff but also didnt want to totally ignore the nagging fear of people finding you in real life, until it turned into real life ppl finding you on the internet. so he also has basically an adjacent set of social media under the same name but its just a boring username i havent decided on so everyone he knows irl doesnt mix up with what hes made for himself as TG and the people he knows as TG dont know what highschool he goes to. (this occasionally comes with the territory of ppl on parp being pissed that daves âlyingâ or âhiding thingsâ from his friends as if he was doing it out of spite instead of just keeping embarrassing tagged photos and videos from football games or when he ate shit at the skatepark from fucking with his ârap careerâ)
every once in a while i get on a kick where hes just german. like, i just replace houston texas with hamburg germany and have him apply to a university in whatever state is applicable for whoever im chatting with and it goes from there? sometimes he moved when he was little and went through the whole visa thing, sometimes he didnt go through the visa thing, sometimes hes a dual citizen because of family and shit, its all dependent on what suits the situation best.Â
one that ive been fucking with for a while but hardly break out (until recently with like 5 roses in the span of one day hell yeah) is that he has a neighbor at the end of the hall who is like a thousand year old witch lady that hes basically adopted as his mother figure in lieu of not having one and shes totally cool with it, especially bc when she kicks the bucket she fully plans on giving dave all her occult stuff so her figure-skating coach and realtor daughter doesnt sell it at a garage sale and lets it all go to waste. she also once brought rose up by name in a conversation without any prompting of her existence which dave didnt realize for days, and then one time cryptically stopped and stared at an empty space in the wall, went âshe has potential, you know.â then looked at him sitting on her kitchen counter with a smile âlots of itâ and hes thought about that weekly ever since. (it is important to note one of the occult items he leaves her is literally her own personal book of shadows shes been filling out for decades its like a 600 page leatherbound book dave has no idea what its used for but the sheer amount of homemade spells and etc in it is like. gonna murder rose the second this chick gets her hands on it i promise you.)
theres the standard strife shit? im not rlly gonna get into those theyre all basically cookie cutter bullshit. its just standard bro and dave abuse talk. i like to inclulde the whole 24hr live cam up in the apartment that definitely watches dave in every room besides his own and the bathroom, but that quickly delves into the prospect of middle-aged men stalking him online and basically sexually harassing him in his own god damn home by talking about how they can see him just trying to take his shoes off in the living room after getting home and frankly? its not one of my best takes! but once you throw it into the headcanon bin, its there forever.Â
he actually really does do something with his photography but not enough to warrant anything exciting, but he has his own branding for it and regularly takes pictures of his friends or anything else he thinks is moderately interesting enough to take pictures of, but those are just thrown into shoeboxes under his bed in favor of posting genuine shots because he wants to keep his image intact and blurry photos of jade smiling in the tree they climbed up together while bec paws at the base of it while whining isnt exactly something he wants the whole world to see.
i also pretty often but him into either paleontology OR i put him down as trying to become a mortician because he thinks handing roadkill once he graduated from museum giftshop specimens to doing his own taxidermy on the side has prepared him enough to perform an occasional autopsy and start embalming real human corpses. (sometimes i put my own desires in and make them his bc i have to project at some point and put him through the same EMT course i dropped out of bc it was one semester and he already has pretty decent first aid skills, but he definitely didnt expect it to be as fucking wild at times as it is, but whats he gonna do? get a job back at waffle house? the company hes working for just offered to pay like half his associates in paramedicine tuition and hes already got all his pre-recs done when he started for paleo. at least its a stable job and hes got the ability to be compassionate in the moment)Â
im running out of things that ive done to the poor kid. OHÂ
hes not a virgin he had a girlfriend all four years of high school (shes also one of his optional and designated exes plz keep up) and their relationship ends in one of two ways: she dies in a car accident a week before their high school graduation, or she stops talking to him entirely a week after their high school graduation until a couple years later she gets into (guess what) a car accident with her current wife/girlfriend and dies which leaves behind their daughter. who just so happens to also be daves daughter. her name is hannah and i love her like my own but no one ever likes her and thats on the conditioning of dirk. does dave end up taking her in? yes. shes awesome and the first time he takes her to the park to like run off some fucking steam she disappears for two minutes and dave is moderately terrified until she comes back holding a dead baby squirrel and thats the moment he realizes huh maybe things really do be genetic.
ok at the bottom of the list im gonna add the couple of times hes been a camboy which usually coincides with the live apartment cam thing and the amount of people in his dms calling him hot or whatever, but typically its more of a started the day he turned 18 and basically dipped around 20 in favor of showing up randomly with no warning to complain about a video game dick in hand because it gives him an outlet that wont annoy his friends bc this is the fifteenth time hes had a lot to say this week about a certain boss battle and also the comments fuel his ego and daddy issues.
the last one wasnt the bottom but literally unless its explicitly proven otherwise every time anyone rps with me there is the underlying fact dave strider was a goalie on his high school lacrosse teams all four years and (shocker another one) definitely had the hots for one of his teammates like major hots like first gay experience hots. like it was painfully obvious that teammate also liked him back hots. like one night at a team sleepover one of the other guys was like can yall just makeout and get it over with were fucking tired and dave really had the balls to be offended and ask what the fuck they were talking about while literally sitting halfway in the mans lap bc for some reason they had to share the same chair.Â
he is also guilty until proven innocent of being the worlds biggest loner outside of that sports team and even though hes literally a jock he still opts to eat his lunch alone in the hallway or something like that and has a tendency to leave girls on read, but bc hes got an in with the rest of the jocks hes basically drug around to plenty of parties and since hes conventionally attractive enough and popular in the aloof way that he is, hes got plenty of tagged insta posts and twitter directs and snapchat streaks going.Â
THESE WERE ALL NO GAME AND DONT INVOLVE SHIPS BC I LIKE TO KEEP MY OPTIONS OPEN AND THEYRE LITERALLY ALL BASED OFF RPS IVE DONE I HOPE YALL JUDGE ME ACCORDINGLY
#theres probably so many more i mean#ive been on parp for at least 5-6 years now#ive been on cherubplay probably the same amount of time#and my memory is totally shot to fuck but these are just what i know ive done in the last YEAR#or thought were wild enough to remember#i put it under a read more bc frankly its really fucking long#and i dont want this to represent me entirely#these are also heavily situational based and not like. emotion or reaction based much?#some of them are#i guess i could rename this to like. things ive done on parp#but theyre technically still headcanons a lot of them can coincide with whatever#so theyre not very specific situations#anyways#this took me an hour
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writers meme!!! 31-40 (hehehehe)
ash oh my gosh ily THANK YOU (but also some of these were tough as heck omg ahah)
31: Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?i take a looooot of liberties i think? which is why i always tend to write modern aus, because i feel like itâs less bad for me to do so in those instances. not that taking liberties with canon-canon is bad, but i do worry a lot about getting things spot on because ive been in fandoms before where cocking up a canon fact could get you a raft of âyOU DONT KNOW A DAMN THINGâs and yknow what? i dont know a damn thing but i dont need to be called out on that tyvm
however! since hbowar is an awful lot more chill and lovely, i have found myself delving into more canon-era writing than i ever thought i would, which is lovely! and whilst sticking to canon is still something i try and do my best with, i donât mind mixing things up a little bit with it either as much as i used to!
32: How do you feel about smut?i dont wanna get too weird and intense and personal here, but i have an incredibly complicated relationship with smut. itâs primarily to do with The Past, and because it still lingers around me a lot, so do the complications. having said that! things are a lot better than they were then (my bf isnât an addict OR a controlling asshole like it was, for starters), so i feel⌠less bad about reading it than i did? âless badâ isnt the wording i want for that, i think less weird is better maybe? either way! i still read it and tbh i kind of like reading it too but itâs usually just for the aesthetics and also! the feelings. i love feelings.
i personally donât write smut! for the reasons listed earlier but also a) in case anyone i know in real life ever stumbled across it, b) im not somebody whoâs particularly interested in sex myself so itâs like- it feels a bit bizarre writing it sometimes, and c) i canât write it for shit. i genuinely cannot. i think about it. i have headcanons about it (ron speirs is UNREAL at oral, for instance). but i canât write it, and so i donât. no hate to anyone that does though!! i think itâs a wonderful thing.
33: How do you feel about crack?youâre asking this of the lady who superimposes the faces of easy company onto farmers for a living, iâd just like to remind you of that ;)
i looove it. i love it. iâll admit that i sometimes find some of it a little bit cringey (less so in the hbowar fandom but like! back in the anime days. oh god. i have seen and read some shit in my time). but for the most part! itâs something i adore, cause its just really nice to have fun, yknow? itâs like the spice girls luztoye stuff i did- thatâs arguably cracky, i think? but itâs a lot of fun to write! and it can sometimes be a sweet bit of relief amongst the oh-so-beautiful and yet utterly gut-wrenching angst we have here too ahah
34: What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?non-con is an absolute no go for me. that goes kind of without saying.
dub-con is also a no go for the most part except like- okay, im going to give a personal example of this because itâs the best way i can explain how i feel about it;
last night, i was pretty drunk. not completely out of it, can barely walk, is absolutely not able to think or fend for herself in any way drunk, but still pretty drunk. my bf (who was sober and who is also an angel) came to walk me home for extra safety, and we kissed a couple times cause yknow- i love him and heâs got a very smoochable face. now i know that can sometimes be seen as dub-con perhaps because one party was drunk, however! i was still able to think and act for myself, and i was fully consenting (i remember doing so clearly, and also weâre in a pretty tactile relationship where those kinds of things are just a given)- so dub-con in that sense, then yeah im okay with that.Â
however, anything more than kissing, or stuff where one person has said yes but only after a hefty amount of persuasion, or anything else that isnât an explicit âyes, i WOULD like to do this with youâ, then yeah- thatâs a no go.
35: Would you ever kill off a canon character?yeah!! i have done before in fact (though never in hbowar writing- however i do plan on it with this pacific idea i have muhahaha). for the angst, innit?
36:Which is your favorite site to post fic?ao3 for sure!! i used to use ff dot net, and im pretty sure my old account is still floating about on there too (thankfully a completely different username to any of my current ones lmao), but i love ao3 a lot and itâs so much more efficient and wonderful and it makes interactions with other writers a little easier. also! the format is sooo much nicer oh my gosh
37: Talk about your current wips.oh gosh i have so many!! im currently working on some playlist prompts i got the other day, that were just supposed to be playlists but i ended up writing ficlets for too. thereâs a farm/webgott one (thatâs pretty long!), a baberoe, a luztoye, and then a buck/malarkey one that im curious about doing since ive not written for them before.
outside of the prompts! im working on a luztoye twin peaks but not really twin peaks kind of thing, and some baberoe stuff, and a couple of other drabbles ive had in my drafts for a very long time too!!
38: Talk about a review that made your day.oh gosh this just reminded me of all the super sweet comments i was supposed to reply to but i havent been on ao3 in a while (logged in i mean) and keep forgetting to! iâll have to get around to that soon!!
each and every single review i get brightens up my day a lot! it means the world that people take the time to read my stuff and leave comments and each one means so so much more to me than i think i could ever really get into writing. so thank you!! thank you
this one from an anon called Lynn, this is one of my favourites ever- it just warms me right up to know that someoneâs rereading fics and getting the same amount of joy out of them that i get from writing them; especially with take my hand, cause thatâs one that i still think about a lot when im upset and it always cheers me up a little!
39: Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?luckily! ive never really gotten any rude reviews and im really appreciative of that- though i feel like this is generally because the hbowar family for the most part is one of the most mature and respectful fandoms around, something that never gets old to me!
40: Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one). okay so!! you said Scar Tissue for this one, and i guess a summary of an alternative ending for this one would be that they would kiss!! because they didnât kiss in the original and i kind of wish they had done but at the same time i didnt want to rush things. the fic would be longer, and they would kiss, and george would open up to joe a little too since there are a lot of things i think george has going on that he doesnât really talk about either- things im hoping to explore in a different fic in the future (key word being hoping) !
thanks soo much for the ask bab!! and sorry for rambling so much ahah, i hope some of it makes sense!! love ya!!
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I don't hate you nor do I wanna say that I want nothing to do with you but weâre going down a really bad path, our communication is disgusting and this whole thing has been exhausting overall. Im just annoyed that you never bothered to look at my perspective. You said all these things about wanting to make things work and giving it your all but you literally found a mistake or issue and then you easily gave up. Youâre never going to be able to move on or continue long term relationships if you act like this. Just because issues arise and you tell someone how you feel, doesn't mean its not genuine anymore. No one is a mind reader, nor does anyone enter a relationship or have a thing with someone knowing exactly what you should fucking do. Itâs a learning process, where it gives both of you a chance to constanly grow and understand each other. You may unintentionally hurt someone but If you continue to do the same thing, intentionally knowing its going to hurt the person next time, that's considered disrespectful. IF I treated you the way you treated me, I promise you- I would've stopped talking to you the night you told asked me if âI go around talking dirty to a lot of guys,â or telling me that youâre a mental thot etc. when we were at cardinal. But instead, I let you know how I felt about your statement, and once I saw your reaction, I chose to move forward with the issue. But you asking âdumb questionsâ isn't a valid excuse for your behaviour cause you questioned MY character when I hadn't given you a reason too. âBeing genuine,â has to do with doing things from the bottom of your heart or a sincere action. When you went and got an iced coffee for me after work knowing id been craving one, that was genuine and super sweet because it showed that you actually cared. When I sent that video of me at the house party, which I sent to everyone because my streaks were dying and I didn't wanna snap my face, I wasn't aware of how upset you would've been. You still hold on to that and refuse to understand that I wasnât intentionally being disrespectful. I always used snapchat as way to communicate with you because it was much easier and even though we weren't on the best terms during that time, I tried to show you and let you know where I was. You clearly weren't happy with my actions and asked that youâd rather have received a text. I noticed that you still refuse to understand where I was coming from, and continue to state how I should've just texted you instead. But since then we've stopped talking and I don't feel the need to let you know about my whereabouts anymore. You don't even care to understand how or why I approached things and instead you continue to hold a grudge for things that occur unintentionally. But Anyways, You shouldnât have to ask someone to cut down their âpartying lifestyle,â once theyâre in a relationship with you because you either end up spending more time together, you go out together and do different activities or mostly end up partying together as well. But our situation was completely different. I could understand where youâre coming from if you and I were both in Brampton and I would constantly go clubbing every weekend without you and not care to even spend time with you. But student life here is literally a shit show. You tell me how there's club events and that you can easily go w your friends back home, but you guys chose to stay home and have âmovie nights.â Thatâs cute to hear and all, but you don't LIVE with your friends. I do. We stay up till 4 am having deep talks, we have our game nights, we stay home study together, do nothing sometimes ALL week long. All i have is literally my roommates and sometimes im all alone w no one to talk too. I literally explained how Waterloo is so fucking boring and depressing and that's why people chose to party a lot, especially because that's how the community has been set up.There are more clubs and bars here than anything else. There are people that go to Phils and Brixton every week or every other week because theyâre looking for some sort of outlet. You find it odd that people go out on a school night, but âWednesdays are for Phils,â and Thursday are brixton nights, because that's the norm in Waterloo. When I said you don't have time for clubbing, I meant to say that you have better things to do. You have your family that you get to see everyday, you can drive around to way better places, you can visit your friends and go out and you can come home to dinner set on the table for you. The reason why I hate Waterloo is because it literally reaks of sex, drugs or clubbing. Reason why I don't mind clubbing now though is because my roommates made it fun. You didn't come to Waterloo nor did you wait to see how things would settle down after September. Instead you bottled everything inside and quickly exploded and judged me as a person. I have never gone to a club and danced on a guy. Even when I was single, I would only dance on gurleen when guys would approach us. When I was talking to you, regardless of the state of mind I was in, I was aware of who I was with and always had my back covered. Im claustrophobic af so I can't be in small spaces for too long and dancing on guys has never been my thing LOL. I love dancing like a drunk uncle at a wedding w my roommates in the emptier side which is why its tolerable. Thatâs why I always tell you there's better things that we couldâve done in Waterloo other than going to Phils because I would be too awkward to dance w you and youâd probably get second hand embarrassment of how I dance LMAO. Iâve never gone to a club w my significant other and I think there's way better ways to spend quality time but that doesn't mean I wasn't open to doing it w you. Even in the summer, I could have touched up clubs but geenu and I went on long drives, ate at nice restaurants, went on bike rides, did Zumba every week etc. If I was that obsessed with partying, I would go that extra mile cause I could've slept over at gurleens anytime. But I don't care, Instead I chose to go the extra mile for you and even stay past 4am out of my fkn house to hang out with you the first day we actually started talking. Thats why its upsetting because I thought you actually understood how I was. You told me, you didn't like when people drunk called you, especially cause your ex would say a lot of rude shit to you. When I drunk called you, I told you how I felt about you but  with more of an exaggerated depth. I was in a room full of people, intoxicated but you were the one person I was thinking about. Even when I was sober, I would still do that. But when you told me you didn't like that, I haven't drunk called or texted you after that because I respected your decision. If you bring up an issue with me, I always try my best to see things from your perspective because Im trying to understand why you feel that way and how we can both find a solution. IF I agree with you its because I realize that you have a valid point, NOT because im trying to make you happy, cause thatâs honestly really draining. You said something along the lines of how you need A good girl, lmaoooo my bad for not being good enough :) Just because someone drinks or smokes or even goes out a lot regardless of it being clubbing or wherever it doesn't make them a good or bad person. Most of the rappers you listen to are out here doing coke and hardcore drugs. How come theyâre not bad people? Connor Mcgregor and Nav post pics of them w blunts in their hand. But you still look up to them?! Your friends smoke weed and probably drink, and somehow you don't see the bad in them? And don't say its because youâre not dating them because this is a topic about being a âgood or bad person,â  They still play a huge role in your life and youâre constantly with them. If anything, How you treat people and what you do for people, especially those who can do nothing for you says something more about your character. I don't smoke anymore but you had the audacity to say that im not a âgood girl,â because I was high at a concert LOL. It makes me laugh because when we first started talking, you were either getting drunk often or going out a lot but the funny thing is that I never judged you. In fact, I understood why you were acting the way you did. The first time you messaged me, you were drunk and high. You had a beer and went to go watch slenderman at the movie theatre. You came drunk to bowling. I easily couldâve judged you and avoided you but I know what its like to not be happy with your current reality and always look for escapes because im constantly doing that especially in Waterloo. I used to do it OFTEN w drinking and smoking but I found better people who uplifted me and eventually worked on creating better habits. If I treated you the way you treated me, I wouldn't have decided to become your friend or even think about wanting to talk to you. I understand you stopped doing those things once we became serious but when I came back to Waterloo- I was still in a bad place but eventually cut down on my bad habits as well. Your first impression wasn't good, nor would have been right of me to judge you for youâre actions cause I didn't know what you were going through. Ive come to the realization that I want someone who I can be best friends with and isn't constantly judging me or more concerned about what people have to say about me. You may have good intentions but I don't think you come off as a âgood person,â if youâre constantly being self righteous and judgemental. FYI Im a simple person, and even though I don't constantly wear branded clothes or feel the need to constantly buy new shoes, doesn't mean im a fob. You being materialistic doesn't make you any better. In fact, nothing is ever gonna be good enough for you and youâre constantly going to want more and better things and youâre gonna find yourself doing that w people as well. How do you listen to J Cole and not take in what he says????? Love yourz, chaining day????  LMAO anyways, I was tired of bottling things up and thats why im letting you know how I feel. Im not trying to fix things nor am I trying to change your mind because im okay with the decision you made. It sucks cause I saw a lot of potential and thought you would be more open minded, but its okay. You're right to chose your own path and im glad you did because at least youâre focusing on yourself. You don't have to respond to my paragraph above because honestly I just wanted to get that shit off my chest. Iâve been wanting to give your jersey back cause you probably regret giving it LOL and it just gives me a constant reminder of you, but I don't appreciate how weird or how long you take to respond to someone who is making time for you. We may not be on the same level as we used to be, but it doesn't mean you can't respond within 1 business day
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