Grace fuck, why would you invoke her name like that???
Okay, fine, gather round children, buckle up because we’re going on a bumpy ride back to everyone’s collective least favorite place: 7th grade.
Some background: I went to a very small Catholic school. One class per grade (we were the largest with 19 kids), everyone knew each other whether they wanted to or not. Despite basically every teacher and faculty members insistence that we were The Best And Most Special Class In The School and that everyone loved having us, the longstanding 7th grade teacher Mrs. O’Haradecided to retire in the summer of 2008, meaning the school had to find us a new teacher for the upcoming year. This would be like, the first new teacher in the school in a while, and as she was getting the ‘best class’, it was viewed as a Big Deal. Somewhere in like July or August we got a letter announcing Mrs. Stubel, and it came with a list of books to pick for the summer reading, and that was basically all the information we had.
So…the first day of class. She seems nice enough. Very…ditsy, I guess? It was very easy for her to get herself off topic while talking. She constantly paced around the room, never staying in one spot for longer than a second, complaining she has restless leg syndrome. Which like, I’m sure she did, but she was in the middle of introducing herself and then went on a 20 minute tangent about restless leg syndrome without anyone prompting her. It was almost like you could see her scattered thoughts flying around her head.
So anyone, she eventually gives somewhat of an introduction- she had only taught in public schools before, and kept worrying she ‘didn’t know’ how to teach in a Catholic school despite the entire class insisting literally nothing was different, you just teach the curriculum, twice a week we have religion class with Sister Mary King, that’s literally it (she still talked over us in worry), she told us about her kids, she told us about her obsession with Emily Dickinson, stuff like that.
And then she hands us this worksheet.
She’s like, “Oh, these are just some basic questions for you to answer! Just so I can get to know you guys better!” like in lieu of an icebreaker game, which is fine, but…the questions. The questions were all “What is your most haunting fear?”, “What is your deepest regret?”, “Have you ever experienced the pain of loss?”, “What was your worst injury?”, “What was your worst nightmare?”, all questions like that, and then on the back she wanted us to draw a gravestone and write out what we wanted our epitaph to be.
We were twelve year olds, mind you.
Oh my God and one girl missed the first day because of her grandmother’s funeral, so when she came the next day and saw what the teacher was insisting she do for homework, she almost had a panic attack? And the lady still made her do it? Literally who wants to think about death anymore at a time like that omfg.
Okay, so then we get to the summer reading book reports, right? Now, she had given a list of maybe, 20 books that you could pick from, read it, and then present an oral report on it. You had to have notecards and you had to be able to answer questions from the class at the end. All in all, I’ve had worse projects.
So, on this list, she apparently put Madeleine L’Engle’s entire book series on the list…only she did not make it known that this was a series and not multiple stand alone books, so when reports started up it caused mass-panic of kids trying to put together plot points and make connections on what the hell they had read.
I was the only kid in the class who had chosen to read “A Wrinkle In Time”, and that has since lead to a series of events that…really actually scares me, I’m still incredibly freaked out, I’m not going to get into it right now because it’ll take away from the current story, but just know that I’m not above wondering if it only happened because I read the book for Stubel.
Anyway, so like, I got through the report okay. The class asking questions about it was fine, but the teacher kept asking questions that didn’t make sense, like, at all. My friend Angie has always had super neat handwriting and Mrs. Stubel got like, obsessed with her notecards and asked if she could borrow them for something. When we got our grades back a few weeks later, Angie had points taken off for not having notecards.
And then her teaching just…didn’t happen. She’d never stay on a topic, she’d always get herself distracted! We were not learning anything. And like, this wasn’t a class of advanced smart kids that loved to learn. By all accounts we should’ve been thrilled. But it got out of hand. It got to points where we had to start teaching lessons to ourselves, asking teacher from other grades for help, always coming home in tears, complaining constantly to our parents and the principal because this woman wasn’t teaching us anything. There were two kids who asked her multiple times for extra help, and she told them each time to ‘talk to me after school’, but then she’d leave immediately after school so they wouldn’t be able to talk to her. They finally brought up the issue in the middle of class and she had a breakdown, yelling about how nobody ever thinks that maybe the teacher has a lot of work to do, and maybe she’s entitled to taking off early, but when we tried to argue she shouldn’t schedule meetings and then break them off in the name of relaxation, she stormed out of the room and tried to get the principal to give us detention. (Which, like, our school didn’t even do, and she was the only one in the wrong during this situation) We are still in September at this point, and already at least ten kids have parents considering transferring them to another school. (And remember, there was only 19 of us, and most of the class had been together since preschool, so that was a big deal).
Then, she starts coming in with all the weird bruises. All the Moms™ immediately started gossiping that her husband had to be beating her, and that’s why she was so screwy in the head. But the way she talked about her husband made it seem like he *might* be dead, and we actually did witness her fall and smack her head into a doorknob once, so no one really knew what to believe. (Also, I’m not trying to imply that abuse would make someone crazy or ‘damaged’ or anything, this is just what was being said. I think they were trying to turn her into a more sympathetic character, because if you feel sorry for her you don’t have to hate her for frustrating your kids so much, and Hate Is A Bad Emotion.)
Also…this woman and Emily Dickinson.
She talked about Emily Dickinson every chance she could get. None of us knew who Emily Dickinson really was before she got there and you could see in her mind it was a capitol offense. She found out the curriculum didn’t have room to cover her (because like, we had a text book), and was way too upset about it. She started reading her poems whenever she found the time (usually somewhere in history class), and always gave us very detailed accounts about her dressing up as Emily and reading her poetry at the library.
Now, two things to note here:
The library did not hire her to do this. She would literally just get in the mood, put on an Emily Dickinson costume that she made by herself, drive to different libraries, and just read poetry out loud to everyone there until someone eventually asked her to leave.
The way she described these events…her tone, the look on her face, her posture…you could just tell that she was getting some sort of sexual gratification out of this? Like dressing up as Emily Dickinson in public and reading her sad poems is really what got this lady’s jollies rocking? Got her all hot and bothered? Which is…a lot, but why would you tell a bunch of seventh graders about it holy shit. What about that sounds like a good idea! What about that turns you back on!
So anyway, we learned a lot about Emily Dickinson against our will.
One of the Davids™ was reading a book for pleasure- which shouldn’t have been a shocker, a lot of kids always had books on them, but Stubel got really interested and asked if she could borrow it from him. He was like ‘sure, after I finish it?’ but she took it that day. He asked her for it back for like five weeks straight.
Okay, so the school was trying some dorky thing to promote ~togetherness~ or some virtue or something, I don’t remember the specifics of why, but each class had to make a huge themed poster and hang it on the wall outside the classroom. Which was like, whatever, not the most thrilling project but at least it allowed us to be productive vs just sitting there as the teacher runs about the room rambling about her family vacation from four years ago. Mrs. Stubel decided we needed a quirky nickname and after like three days of deliberation we were christened “Stubel’s Special Strudels”!
(points for alliteration or whatever, but no one actually voted for that and what exactly do strudels have to do with Catholicism? It became a big running joke amongst the kids)
Also, in case you were wondering, she didn’t explain the assignment correctly to us- so every other class had like these beautiful, artistic, well-themed and put together posters, while ours was just…literally a bunch of shit thrown together on paper. Nothing fit with each other, it was literally embarrassing to look at.
But then…she wouldn’t drop the strudel thing. Like she kept bringing it up. She got really into strudels and would just tell us random shit about them. Finally, someone jokes that we should get strudels one day for a party (like instead of a pizza party), and she’s Freaking Out and On Board. She really wants to buy us strudels and have a breakfast party now. She talked about it for like two days straight.
So like… you know in school when you would have a pizza party, usually the teacher would buy it? That’s how they always happened in my experience (not counting the last day of 10th grade when some kid had pizza delivered to the school for lunch but it didn’t get there until math class lol). But especially in grade school? Like if it wasn’t a PTA made party that’s super organized, the school would buy the food, right? Right?
Yeah, so she was like, if this is happening you guys need to give me the money. Just give me the money and then I’ll pick them up on my way to work!! And after some arguing some kids are on board. Strudels should only cost a couple dollars right?
And she’s like, oh no, I’m gonna get them from this high end bakery near my house so it’ll be special, but they’re not cheap and it’ll be a big order! I’m gonna need like fifteen dollars from each of you!
And at this point I’m just like…lady. Come on.
But she keeps insisting. She’s not gonna go until every student in class pays up.
And I’m like…I’m poor. I don’t even like strudel. And some of the less-naïve kids are siding with me.
And then she pulls that “you guys are just spoiling all the fun for your classmates” shit, like the naïve kids who already paid up, so it gets to the point where we just gotta cave and give her the money.
(I ended up stealing it out of my Crazy Bitch Aunt’s wallet so it’s whatever, I guess.)
And then of course, shockingly enough, every morning she was met with “where are the strudels?” and every morning she went wide eyed, slapped her forehead and yelled in embarrassed horror “I totally forgot! Tomorrow, guys, I promise!”
Honestly, with how scatterbrained and confused she always was…like to this day I can’t tell you with 100% certainty whether she hustled us or was just actually forgetting about the damn pastries, I choose to lean towards the hustled us side because that’s just the type of people I’m used to, but if I found out it was innocent forgetfulness I wouldn’t exactly be surprised.
She couldn’t handle more than one person talking at a time. Like, we’d have break periods, or group work, or something and all the talking made her go wide-eyed and batty. She’d look overworked and anxious and would be darting around the room trying to do work or something but she couldn’t focus and she’d yell at anyone who tried to talk to her directly. I remember one time she was using this boys desk for something so he asked “where am I supposed to sit?” and she snapped “Sit on the ceiling for all I care!”. And this kid was the Class Clown™ , so he immediately grabbed a chair in one hand and started climbing the bookcase to try and reach the ceiling. She’s standing right next to this and doesn’t even notice. He got all four chair legs planted on the ceiling and was trying to somehow maneuver his way into the chair (I really don’t know what the plan was exactly- he was really tall and it was a small building, so I think he probably had the idea that if he can get his body upside down and in the chair, and stretch out his arms like a hand-stand to hold onto bookcase, he could arguably sit on the ceiling.) but he slipped. Crashed into my desk and the two desks next to me, knocked over the book case, broke the chair in half and hit the desks with enough force to knock them down lower. It was hilarious. Everyone was loosing their shit cracking up (he was fine) and it still took Stubel like five minutes to notice his lying out across the desks right in front of her eyes. She was pissed but how did she miss any of it in the first place? She was barely being helpful in whatever it was she was trying to do.
This was the year the Phillies were going to the World Series, and all the grades were having a Phillies Rally in the cafeteria so a news crew was coming to the school and each class was supposed to come up with fun little cheers for them to broadcast. Multiple cheer ideas were presented to her and she vetoed all of them, someone even suggested just singing the damn eagles theme song with replaced words and calling it a day but she vetoed that too, she was very adamant that she could come up with a cheer all by herself and it’ll be the best one (whoever had the best cheer was winning like an ice cream day or something idk). And then like…literally five minutes before the rally she just hands us signs with the letters and was like ‘we’re just gonna spell out Phillies it will be cute won’t it my strudels???’. We were the weakest class there, predictably. I think we lost to the kindergarteners. There might still be a video online of me yelling “i “ passionately at the top of my lungs. It was online bc our cheer was so bland the news crew cut it out of the broadcast.
I literally can’t say enough about how she never taught us anything. She’d be going on some tangent about how she doesn’t understand the science behind skiing, and I’d be like “Okay yes but please can you just tell me where Romania is on a map???” And she’d start fights whenever someone actually wanted to learn. It was so easy to get her angry but so hard for her to stay on topic. Kids started teaching the class themselves! Like seriously, she’d be rambling and one of us would just go up to the podium, open the teacher’s guide textbook and just start reading out loud and talking over her. By the time she noticed we’d be halfway through a lesson. And we understood it better than when she tried! You know something’s wrong when pre-teens are more qualified for a job than an adult who supposedly went to school for this.
We were in the church having run-throughs for our upcoming Confirmation and she almost set the church on fire…fifteen different times. In less than half an hour. How hard is it to hold a candle?
Okay, and here’s when stuff starts kicking up. It was October 28th, a Tuesday, and it was our last day of school that week because they were having parent-teacher conferences the rest of the week. So we were just hanging out, watching movies in class and reading (lord knows we weren’t learning), and Stubel calls me over to her desk.
So like, she had given everyone little bags with candy for Halloween, but I get up there and she hands me an extra one. And she’s like “Molly I know your birthday is tomorrow and I bought you a present but I left it on my coffee table this morning by accident! So just have the candy for now!”
And I’m like….”Ma’am I’m like, the sixth birthday this year. You didn’t give anyone else presents?”
And she goes “Oh, I know but this is a special secret surprise. I just know you’re gonna love it! Do you wanna stop by my house later this week to pick it up or should I just give it to you Monday after school?”
And like…In writing this sounds like a non-threatening exchange, and like, it was, but I felt so uncomfortable holy shit. I’m looking over my shoulder and shooting my friends SOS signals. Something about this felt so weird in my gut omfg. I told her thanks and I’d just see her Monday.
So we flash forward to Wednesday- my 13th birthday, the day the Phillies won the world series, and also the day my mother innocently strolled into the school for her meeting only to be met with screaming, the sound of heavy destruction, and the school secretary Mrs. Daily running at her in a panic, waving her arms and yelling “YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED GET IN MY OFFICE NOW!”
So my poor mother, who thought she could handle this whole meeting in a few minutes and barely be an hour late for work, is now barricaded in the front office with the school secretary, as the noises from down the hall get louder and louder. The woman explains that they had gotten so many complaints about Mrs. Stubel that this morning, when she got to the school, the principal Sister Patricia called her in and said “Listen, we need you to be professional and still have the parent conferences, but we have to let you go. We just don’t think you fit in well here, and the kids need to come first and feel comfortable in their school.” and like, I’m paraphrasing because I wasn’t there, but we all know she was very polite and professional about it.
Mrs. Stubel, however…was not.
She flipped her chair and stormed out of the office, and locks herself in the seventh grade classroom. She started wrecking the shit out of that place, screaming obscenities and the top of her lungs, they had to call the cops on her! She was locked in there for almost an hour! And let me just give you a nice little list of everything she did in that classroom:
Smashed three windows.
Threw everything off her desk and carved swear words all over it.
Got cleaning fluid that she knew would damage the chalk boards, smeared it all over.
Cracked the chalk boards by repeatedly smashing chairs against them.
Wrote swear words all over the walls and on desks
Went into students desks, ripped up their books.
Stole my glasses. (which were in my desk bc I only used them in class at the time)
Threw some desks around.
Carved swear words into the boards. (there was so much carving I’m assuming she just had a knife on her person, which has to lead to the question, did she have a knife on her while she was in class with us?)
Physically ripped the hooks to hang backpacks on out of the wall.
Knocked the closet door off it’s hinges.
Ripped up all the books in the bookcases and threw their pages all around the room.
Wrote lewd phrases inside student’s desks.
Broke multiple chairs.
Used her podium as a battering ram against the wall that’s in front of where the backpacks go. (the wall won but Damage Was Inflicted)
Set a fire in the trash can.
When the principal and other teachers started trying to get in, she tossed her rolling chair at the door to scare them off.
She was screaming curse words at the top of her lungs the entire time, and cursing the school and the kids and the principal and the church in general, and the school building was small, so all the parents and the smaller children that had to come to the meetings (who were locked in their respective classrooms in fear) heard everything.
So much more? But it’s 4:30 in this morning and this list is already long.
So my mom is in the front office and deadass the
entire police force
shows up, running down the hallway to the classroom yelling at her to stop, and it takes a while for them to get her out holy shit. They knocked down the door and she tried to escape out of one of the broken windows! But they got her and dragged her out.
So of course, in such a small school with very involved parents this shit spread like wildfire. The entire town knew within the day. The poor principal called the newly retired old-seventh grade teacher and was like “So we…need some help” and the lady was like “I already heard I’ll be there Monday” omfg. I remember I got a text from one of my classmates saying “if your birthday wish was for us to be set free from the beast I love you” omfg.
So, we eventually go back to school on Monday and everyone’s buzzing. The principal has us go to the cafeteria and she ‘delicately’ explains the situation, and that the old teacher is coming out of retirement for us, the school has a restraining order against Mrs. Stubel now and that she’s sorry we had to deal with this mess. Our classroom had to go under some heavy reconstruction before we could be let back in there, so for like two weeks we alternated between the cafeteria and the preschooler’s classroom, we had no books or anything, just provided loose-leaf paper and pens. It was like, surreal, but everyone was just so happy to be rid of her and to be in the presence of a competent teacher omfg. We eventually were able to get back into our usual classroom.
It took a while for things to go completely back to normal, though. After the big spectacle she made, for weeks after she was fired we were all very scared of the possibility of Mrs. Stubel returning to the school with a gun in hand. It was always a topic we whispered about at lunch with wide eyes and shivers. Like…genuine nightmare scenario.
About two weeks after she was fired, a boy in the back of the classroom gasped loudly during SSR, and when we all looked at him, he whispered in anger “She never gave us our freakin’ strudels!”
About three months after she was fired, we were lined up at the door to go to Library when a few of us looked through the windows and saw something darting through the trees. It was fast and we couldn’t make anything out, so we let it drop. When the class and teacher returned half and hour later, the book she had borrowed months before from one of the boys was sitting on his desk. It was just laying there, the room was silent, nothing had been disturbed…but I have never seen a book look so threatening. People were freaking out. Someone kept insisting that she turned the book into a bomb. No one figure out how she got in the school, and no one could figure out how she got it on the right desk, as we had switched the seating arrangement since she had last been there.
A full six months after she had left, it was nearing the end of the school year and our class was dicking around during our last computer class. Someone found a website (that we weren’t allowed to be on) that pulls up any police records attached to whoever’s name you enter, so someone decided to search Mrs. Stubel as a joke. We ended up finding out she had like six DUI’s.
Aaaaand that’s the story of the horrendous teacher I had for two months in 7th grade. One of my favorite party stories but tbh she still haunts me™ .
OKAY BUT concept: Lazytown, but it’s meant for teenagers
Okay but- imagine how different Lazytown would be if it were meant for teens while STILL trying to be educational
Like, it’s a few years into the future, and all the kids are now in middle or high school (depending on age. I like to think Ziggy 13, Stingy and Stephanie 14, and Trixie and Pixel 16)
Of course, Sportacus, Robbie, and the other adults would all treat the children differently now that they are older. They are open to talk to the kids about more mature and serious topics
The teens are a really confusing time to be going through, and I’m sure Sportacus would still be just as supportive and willing to save the day…he just does so in different ways now
The show would cover and educate teens on issues that teens might go through like
*Ziggy being self-conscious about his weight to the point where he just- stops eating and Sportacus tells him that how his body FEELS is more important, rather than how it LOOKS (covering body positivity, eating disorders, showing that boys can have that problem too)
*Stingy developing his very first crush on someone and becoming very clingy and possesive and needing to be taught that people are NOT like things and you can’t just CLAIM a person as yours (covering consent and healthy relationships)
*Steph getting her period for the first time and she and the Mayor have no idea wtf is going on (cuz lbr, the mayor is kind of dumb) so Sport’s crystal beeps and they’re like “she’s bleeding!” and Sport knows what’s happening but doesn’t know what to do so they actually call Bessie for help. But after that, Sporto starts carrying pads/tampons along with him just in case cuz you gotta stick out for your friends
*Given the amount of time Pixel spends with computers, I’m sure you can make at least one episode on internet safety with it. Pixel’s crush on Stephanie might be good material for episodes on teenage romance and healthy relationships too
*Trixie maybe starting to realize that she’s “not like other girls” and doesn’t really pay much attention to boys like they do (covering sexuality) Perhaps she even likes Stephanie a little which could add the element of a love triangle
*Maybe in that same episode, Sport teaches them about gender and sexuality in general and he brings up non-binary gender and Robbie overhears and identifies it with himself, giving us a message that it’s never too late to come out or discover who you are
*Imagine the drama of an episode where one of the kids gets their hands on a cigarette and Sport catches them just before they’re about to light it and for the very first time EVER, he’s visibly VERY ANGRY at and DISSAPOINTED in the kids, but it’s all out of a place of concern
*Or an episode where Robbie slips Sport just ONE shot of alcohol in secret and given how sensitive his body is to just SUGAR, Sport instantly gets alcohol poisoning which leads to Robbie freaking out and probably asking the kids for help or something because not even sportscandy is fixing it (teaching kids to be careful around alcohol and also what to do if a friend happens to get sick)
*Sport shown to actually be overwhelmed with worry about the safety of people in town every once in a while and having anxiety over it, and being confused because he goes outside a lot and eats healthy so WHY is it happening? And Robbie who also dealt with anxiety issues in the past actually telling him that sometimes, that’s not enough and how sometimes, medications and therapy may help (teaching that it’s okay to let people know you aren’t always ok, and that you shouldn’t hide it)
And of course, Sport would STILL be promoting a healthy lifestyle in general. He’s the cool high school health teacher dad, who’ll talk to the kids about anything they want to know, from puberty to sex to crushes, anything. And Robbie has toned it down on the schemes a bit (since the kids are older and much less guillable now so there’s no point) and has warmed up to the kids a bit now that they are older. But, he’s still the lazy insomniac we know and love. Maybe sometimes, …Robbie might even be a better teacher in terms of MENTAL health than Sportacus even, given all the stuff that he himself has dealt with having
…Not to mention, an older target audience opens up potential for Sportarobbie to actually be a thing?
There’s just- so much potential that Lazytown could STILL have, even if it weren’t meant for younger kids
This is just- something that I really really want and like to think about
EDIT: Some MORE ideas for you since I came up with more
*Pixel’s crush on Steph just getting bigger and bigger but he has no idea how to talk to girls, so for whatever reason, he asks ROBBIE for advice on how to do that, who ends up bringing out Rottenella for him to practice on
*That ends up being a bust given that Rottenella can’t talk, so he ends up asking TRIXIE to help him practice and even after realizing that the girl he has an eye on is Stephanie, …she helps him out anyway even if it hurts, because Stephanie and Pixel are her friends and she actually….sacrifices her own feelings for theirs
*Sport is the one person that Trixie can talk to and vent to about her feelings for Steph, being the one guy she can trust, and then Sport totally hits us with the feels by being like “I understand what you’re going through….the person I like wants me out of town forever.”
*Robbie going through one of his depressed states during the winter holidays (perhaps seasonal affective disorder? The episode covers depression) and isolating himself around Christmas because his self-esteem is in the gutter and he’s convinced that nobody wants him around, so he’ll spend the holidays alone, and Sport is just heartbroken and like “No, you’re very wrong, we WANT you to come be with us and we love you” and we finally get a translated performance of “Aleinn um Jolin”
*Robbie reprogrammed Sugar-Pie to act like a normal dog, but one day he stops functioning and is beyond repair and basically “passes away”, and everyone else is like “??? but it’s a robot, just make another.” But Sport reminds the kids that regardless, this was someone that Robbie was close to and that they should let him grieve and be there for him (covering loss, death, and the stages of grief, which is something everyone goes through at some point)
*Bessie becoming the unofficial mom that helps the girls out with the things that Sportacus and the Mayor might lack ability or knowledge to help in (like, bra shopping and shit like that because the idea of momma Busybody is just great, you guys)
*Being the youngest, Ziggy is just entering high school and the older kids support him and help him get used to the transition from middle school
*At least one episode with the trope where one of the boys is dealing with their voice cracking due to puberty (Stingy, because he would be the funniest)
*There is still a Bing Bang at the end of each episode, but each one is different where sometimes, a different character sings it, or the music changes genres or parodies some sort of pop culture reference
…You can make at least 12 episodes out of all this? That’s like, half a season right there
ANOTHER EDIT: I’ve noticed how a big handful of you said that you fucking want this? Well, I’m not stopping you? Everyone, be my fucking guest if you wanna contribute to this in any sort of way.
Actually…it might be kind of fun, making this into a sort of group project (collaborate on art, fics, etc) You guys can like, message me if that sounds cool
So a lot of you on here are teens and might be getting ready to be out on your own. Here are some things I learned the hard way or that are just good to know.
Never smoke or quit if you are currently. The cost of addictive smoking is more than half your groceries a month AND the bodily cost will surprise you.
Drink water. Yeah okay I know this one sucks but water is much much cheaper than soda, trust me. Your skin will thank you.
Send thank you cards. Don’t have any? Get the cheap ones and send those. It doesn’t matter how nice they are, the fact that you sent a thank you card matters. Send it for gifts, people calling you to check on you, those adults who helped you move, and even people who interview you.
Withhold 1. Okay so speaking of jobs, on your forms (US) where you are trying to figure out your tax withholding, put one. Yourself. It’s an easy way to make sure you don’t owe $2,000 in April and you still get a pretty decent check.
No pets. If you don’t have a pet now, don’t get one. It’s super hard to get an apartment that will let you have a pet when you are first starting out. Wait until you are a bit older and can afford to rent more than a one bedroom apartment.
Insurance. You’re young, so why do you need life insurance? Because that’s the best time to get it. Yeah, it’s a dumb expense to pay right now, but if you get it early, you can afford it. The longer you wait, the more expensive it is. Car insurance is going to be high for a few years, but it will drop around 22 and 25 years old. Health insurance usually comes through your job and please don’t ignore it. Renter’s insurance is usually pretty cheap and it covers you if there is a fire or natural disaster and you have to go back home to mom.
Off brand. This goes for food, clothing, makeup, and cleaning supplies and just about anything else you can think of. For food, Aldi’s is your best friend. I can go fill up a cart of just food and it will cost maybe $70. the same amount of food at Walmart is easily over $150. You can of course be picky, but try to get the majority of your food off brand. Hygiene products too. Goodwill is great for clothes, but plan a trip. Save like 60 bucks and drive near a big city where the rich people live. Go to the goodwill there. You can basically get an all new wardrobe for pennies on the dollar. Makeup is tricky. It can be really really expensive but you don’t really have to buy all of it name brand. Pick whats most important to you. I prefer eye shadows and lipsticks name brand and I deal with everything else from the drugstore. With he right techniques, you can make it look expensive. As for cleaning, I always use dollar tree stuff minus my laundry detergent because of allergies. Bleach, stain spray, and vinegar are gonna be your best friends,.
Car. Okay so yeah, that brand new car is nice and sure, maybe you can afford it. For now. Disaster will strike. Something will come up and bam, you’re stuck choosing if you want to walk everywhere or eat. Try getting a slightly used car, such as one of the ones they let people test drive a lot or a car that has previously been leased. Just as nice and much MUCH cheaper. And I have gotten THREE cars with no down payment so don’t let them tell you you can’t. But it is nice to put it down,even $100.
Negotiate. Don’t be afraid to haggle with people. Yeah it’s intimidating but it’s 10 minutes of your life versus hundreds of dollars a year. What can you negotiate? Almost anything. Car payment. Rent. Insurance. Hospital bills. Even due dates for the bills you can’t negotiate on. Also, if something comes up where you have to skip a payment on something, call them. Give them like $25 and explain your situation. Ask if your payment date can be moved with the $25 as a goodwill promise to pay the rest later. It works. They would rather move your date than send you to collections.
Collectors. Okay so this one is tricky. If you have fallen behind and owe a collector, don’t fret. I do too, even as I write this. Owing a collector means that the original service has been paid (health bills, credit card ect) and you are now paying the people who paid your bill. (I know it’s confusing) however, they will usually want the entirety of what they paid for you in 6 months. Meaning if they just paid a bill for you that was $3,000, they are gonna ask for $500 a month. That’s rent. That’s crazy. Tell them outright what you can afford and don’t lie about it either. If you can afford $100, tell them that. If you can afford $50, tell them that. If you can’t afford to pay them anything when they call you, let them know when you can. If you can’t afford it when you told them you could, don’t answer your phone to a number you don’t know. I know that sounds horrible but if you are renting an apartment, renting a car, and literally own nothing, they can’t do much to you. Just pay when you can and try to maybe pick up some extra shifts at work to make a payment. I have been dodging collectors for about three years. I owe I think three right now. I pay ONE of them a month, but it’s a large payment to keep them quiet for a while. I do not suggest this for you, I am just letting you know what I do.
Credit Cards. Okay, the big one. Many adults will tell you to never ever get a credit card and that’s just not feasible in this world. However, it can be addicting to be able to go to Walmart when you are negative in your bank account and get that $10 movie. I mean, it’s just 10 bucks right? WRONG. It will build up fast and soon the one credit card you have will be maxed. So you have to get another for emergencies. And another. And so on. So here’s my advice; Get a credit card through the same bank as your checking and tell them to put a limit on it and not let it raise. Then lock that sucker away and forget you have it until a real emergency comes up like a flat tire, short on money for groceries, or that collector that hasn’t been paid in 4 months. You can make it on one credit card if you are strict with your money, which I am sure you don’t have a lot of.
Budget. Speaking of money, write out a budget for yourself. Don’t know how? Here’s the easiest way. Most people get paid bi-weekly so here’s how to do it. Make two columns, Check 1 and Check 2. If you have a full time job you know about how much your checks are going to be so put the amount at the top of each column. Now that hard part - figure out what is due when. Is something due June 1st? Take it out of check 2 (end of May). Is something due May 14? Take it out of check 1 (beginning of May). That main thought process behind your budget is that you want to have the money for a bill set aside before it’s due. Paying a bill a few days early is a great way to make a good financial reputation for yourself and for some things even build credit. Now if you get paid bi-weekly, you will sometimes have a month where you get 3 checks. DON’T BLOW IT. Put it right back into your budget as Check 1 and keep the flow going. If you prepay bills, like your car or your rent or your credit card, and stay a month a head of those big ones, you may need that wiggle room later. If your car, for instance, is paid ahead 1 month, you can use the car money you would normally pay that month for maybe some extra groceries or some small emergency without using your credit card and you won’t even fall behind! You’ll just be back to owing every month instead of being ahead. It’s like a savings account without the temptation to blow the money.
Simplicity. Enjoy simple things. A gym is expensive, go for a walk instead. Cable is expensive, pay for internet. Phones are expensive, get on a family plan (there is no shame in staying on your parent’s plan, just pay your share). Food is expensive, enjoy leftovers. Movies are expensive, go early and resist any snacks. Shopping is expensive, go to the mall and spend all day trying on cute clothes and taking selfes in the dressing room (makes you feel like a million bucks sometimes!). Time is expensive because you don’t have a lot of it so If you want to stay in bed all day on your day off, do it. If you want to binge on your day off, do it. If you want to just play board games with friends on a Saturday night with a few beers, do it. Simple fun is way better for your pocket and your anxiety.
Mental Health - speaking of anxiety, make sure you take care of your brain. Go outside, even if it means sitting on your steps. Wake up early, even for just an hour. Don’t burn yourself out at work or school because you will suffer the consequences. Make a schedule. If you have trouble with timekeeping, ask for help. If you feel you do have a real mental disorder, see if your employer has what’s called and EAP program (employee assistance program). They usually help you find a mental health provider and give you a few visits for free. This will help you narrow down what exactly you have and after you’re free visits are up you can see who is in your health insurance network that can provide you the mental care you need. if you are prescribed drugs, always get generic. If there is no generic, ask for an alternative. I will not lie to you, mental health is the hardest thing to treat. It took me 8 years and a lot of money to figure out the right medication cocktail for me and my bipolar/
(yes I have both). Turns out I only need two pills, and if I were to refill both of them right now, I wouldn’t even pay $10 thanks to my health insurance (which sucks but at least it’s there) and because I got generics. Also, talk therapy can be pricey but sometimes only a few sessions can change your life. I have literally only been to talk therapy 11 times in my life and that was to deal with PTSD, bipolar, schizophrenia, and suicidal tendencies. 11 sessions. That’s 11 hours. And yeah, I paid over $400 out of pocket for those collectively. But if I hadn’t I would probably be dead right now so it was worth it.
Connections. Calling your friends is awesome because sometimes, it’s free therapy. And okay, maybe you’re 19 and you still have a horrible relationship with your parents. It’s okay. I am 25 and I still have problems with my parents. My whole family actually. Social media is a kind of safety net for me because that’s where I can be myself. Find where you can be yourself, it will help you stay sane.
Clean. Sometimes when I feel crappy, I take a shower. I clean the living room. I do the dishes. I vacuum. I mop. I open the windows. I get the trash out of the house. Change into some clean clothes. Organize my desk. Clean out your closet and put all your unwanted clothes in bags to donate. Just a small amount of cleaning can make you feel like you accomplished something.
Hobbies. This one is a little hard too. It depends on your personality, your budget, and how much free time you have. Drawing , singing, and writing are free. Exercising can be free if you run or walk in the park. But most hobbies do actually cost money. Video games, playing an instrument, painting, sewing, cooking/baking, making things - those all cost money. Some of them lots of money. But you have to have a hobby outside of social network, sleeping, and working. It’s another thing to keep you sane and it’s just a good idea.
Toxic people. Do not be afraid to cut people out of your life that do nothing but make you feel bad about yourself or insult your life. This could mean breaking up with your partner, unfriending a person from your social circle, cutting out a whole circle of people, or even not talking to a relative(s). It’s not easy for some people but if they do not build you up, they will only tear you down.
Drink at home. Okay so this one might sound like a no brainer, but I’ll explain it anyway. Packs of beer and hard liquor bottles are cheaper than a pint and a shots at the bar. Bottles of wine are cheaper than a glass at a restaurant. It’s never okay to drive drunk or even after one bottle of beer. NEVER. Staying at home is cheaper all around and you can drink in your pajamas while watching Finding Nemo on loop. Or invite some friends over and create a drinking game out of a show, a game you already have, or just talk and drink.
Sleep. This one is so important. You need a good bed and a quiet, dark place to sleep. If you are scared of the dark, get a night light. Can’t sleep in silence? Get a fan. I have both of these and they help. You’re brain will feel tired if you ‘slept’ for 12 hours but only got 1 hour of REM. REM can really only happen every night if you are in a calm and dim environment. Quality of sleep will effect your eating habits, your emotional state, your mental stability, and your ability to make rational decisions among other things.
So these are obviously just a few things, but I feel they are important to share. Please feel free to add any and reblog it for those about to enter adulthood.
based on a dream I had, I present: a short semi-fic about Jack and Shitty and their day-long, beautiful relationship.
Basically, this is what happens:
At a kegster during their freshmen year, in which Shitty is running around being the life of the party even though he’s a freshman, Jack is also in attendance– talking to Berger and Marsh in the kitchen. Jack is there, partly to keep an eye on Shitty, partly because he is surprised by how much he does like some of the guys on his team, mostly because they had won today and Jack is in quite a good mood. Not a good enough mood that he is going to risk going into the living room where music is blasting, but in a good enough mood that he is holding a solo cup of beer and chilling in the kitchen, chatting with Berger and Marsh. He is at ease as Jack ever is– laughing good naturedly as they tease both him and each other and of course, this is when the trouble starts.
The trouble is this: Marsh is drunk and excited that Jack has actually shown up to a Haus kegster and since Jack seems to be in a good mood, Marsh decides to take a risk and ask Jack a Question. More specifically, Marsh rams an friendly elbow into Jack’s ribs and goes:
“Yo, Zimmermann, you like anyone on campus yet?”
A few months prior, that question would have made Jack freeze up. But now, Jack smiles easily (because honestly, it is a rather respectful question– “like” instead of “fuck”; “anyone” instead of assuming “girl”) and he certainly doesn’t want to get into his romantic history or lack of crushes so he smiles, shrugs, and says
“Nah, love’s shitty,” It’s still friendly and he smiles and asks Berg about his crush that the whole team knows about and that should be that.
The problem, however, is that what Alex Berger and Carter Marsh heard was not “Nah, love’s shitty,” but “I’m in love with Shitty.”
When Derek shows up at Stiles’ back door that morning with a basket full of about three dozen cookies, all carefully iced to look like Batman and Spider-Man, Stiles doesn’t say anything. He just gets up from the kitchen table and opens the screen door, and then he looks down at the basket for a long, long moment, and then he rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes and groans.
He looks kind of… unkempt. He’s wearing the same sweatpants and lacrosse hoodie he’d had on two days ago when Derek saw him at his mailbox, and his hair is sticking up everywhere, and it’s obvious he hasn’t shaved in a while because there’s some actual stubble there. Derek didn’t think Stiles was even capable of facial hair. It only adds to his attractiveness, but still, Derek can’t help but be concerned.
Derek doesn’t usually start conversations, but today he feels like making an exception. “Are you okay? This is a lot more baking than usual, even for you.”
“What? What do you mean?” Stiles says, dropping his hands to his sides. His face cycles through about five or six different expressions before settling on something that’s probably trying to say “innocent and oblivious,” but… well. Derek might not know Stiles that well, but he knows Stiles is definitely not either of those things, ever.
“The cookies,” Derek says slowly. “That you leave on my doorstep a few times a week while I’m out on my morning run.”
Stiles glares down at the cookies Derek’s holding like they’ve betrayed him.
“We don’t talk about it,” Derek says slowly, unsure, “but I thought you knew that I knew it was you. I mean, no one else in the neighborhood even talks to me.”
Iz Explains Stuff So You Don’t Have to: The Nightwing Debacle.
Hey guys! As promised, here’s a write up of what’s currently making waves in the DC/comic fandom today. Given that this subject somewhat related to the Hydra-cap nonsense, I thought it should be something I cover as well, just to sorta give non-comics fans/DC comics readers who might see this and want some context.
1. Who is Nightwing?
You guys know Robin, Batman’s sidekick who they almost always leave out of movies? This is the first (yes there’s more than one, but that’s a topic for another day) and possibly most iconic one to pop-culture. Named Richard “Dick” Grayson, Dick is the son of the flying Grayson’s , two circus acrobats who died due to mob interference during a show (he also has Romani heritage (which the comics often ignore) This will be important later). Bruce took Dick in and the rest is well history.
Dick probably has the most screen time over any Robin in film/tv adaptations, including Teen Titans, Young Justice, The Lego Batman movie, the original Adam West series, and Batman Forever. He’s arguably the best known Robin to non-comic’s readers.
Because time does pass in comics occasionally, Dick grew up and after a series of events that have been retconned so many times it’s not worth getting into, ditched the Robin mantle. He would later take up the title of Nightwing.
2. Why the name Nightwing?
Dick is a HUGE fan of Superman (no really, Superman is pretty much his uncle) and after he ditched the Robin title, Superman and him had a talk where Superman told him of two legendary kryptonian heroes Nightwing and Flamebird. Inspired by the story, Dick would take on the name of the former (the latter name has a much more varied history).
3. Okay, so what’s the big deal besides the Robin thing?
To compress a lot of history into a paragraph, Nightwing is the one DC hero that like almost every other DC hero trusts and likes. Most of the Justice League has known Dick since he was a little kid and trust him implicitly for both his general good nature and reputation of being like, a really fucking good guy. Like a really good guy. A good enough guy that when Batman was told to let his own world die to let a better more “ideal” world survive, he asked if Richard Grayson was in it to make his choice on if it actually was a better world. (Dick was not in this world, which made Batman hard pass on that shit. Really. This is a thing that happened.)
Dick has also led multiple successful superhero teams, worked on the league himself, and donned the Batman title for awhile.
4. Okay, got it. So what’s going on?
Today DC announced a new six issue limited series in an elseworld (which is a world that takes place outside of canon. Think an AU.) This is the summary:
NIGHTWING: THE NEW ORDER is the story of a future world without “weapons”—where superpowers have been eliminated and outlawed. The man responsible? None other than Dick Grayson, a.k.a. Nightwing, now leader of a government task force called the Crusaders who are charged with hunting the remaining Supers. But when events transpire which turn the Crusaders’ aim toward Grayson’s own family, the former Boy Wonder must turn against the very system he helped create, with help from the very people he’s been hunting for years—the last metahumans of the DC Universe.
5. OH NO IS THIS HYDRA CAP ALL OVER AGAIN?
Yes and no. So far, it’s safe to say that this series does echo Hydra Cap in a paragon for good and justice becoming the figurehead of a fascist regime. However, everything else is kind of more murky.
For one, this series is an elseworld, which means unlike Hydra Cap, it doesn’t take place in the regular DC universe. This is not the fate of the Dick Grayson we know and love, nor is it him; it’s a version of him in a different universe. It’s also a limited run, so we got an enddate on this sucker off the bat.
Second, this is more general fascism instead of nazi brand fascism. The first cover echoes other fascist/oppressive regimes but it applies to multiple besides the Nazi party. In the DC universe, metahumans aren’t coded as a minority group (though smaller subsets are, like the Superfamily being coded Jewish), so it’s more sci-fi than an allegory for real life oppression (though if depending on the details of this event, that remains to be seen. The writer took to Twitter to state there is absolutely no genocide here in this book but the first few pages imply otherwise and long story short, I’m not convinced). The group Dick works with is also entirely new and unlike Hydra has no link in history to the Nazi party, making the claim that they’re a general “evil fascist villain” hold water.
Third, unlike Hydra Cap, this book is branded as Dick learning the error of his choices rather than a long saga to try to convince us he has a point. I doubt we’ll see the same extent of “we should feel bad for Dick oppressing all these people” that we see in Hydra cap. However, this also remains to be seen. Long story short, it’s never gonna try to get us to root for the bad guy.
6. So it’s fine?
Now I wouldn’t say that. Making an iconic character a fascist is still something to side eye, and a lot of my above caveats can change if the story itself decides to make those connections (i.e if there are prison camps for example). It’s also important to note, that making a Romani character a fascist, and one under the label of “crusader” is in terrible taste, considering the Romani people’s history with both.
The writer is also someone I don’t have a ton of faith in when it comes to nuance. (though to his credit, he is assuring and validating concerns on twitter rather than laughing us all off as SJWs).
What I’m saying is that it’s gonna be hard to figure out exactly this is going to play out until I see the first issue. I think the storyline and the advertising is something we should be critical of, but a lot still depends on how the book approaches it. This isn’t to say you should “give it a chance” only that we might want to hold off from saying DC is promoting fascism until we see if they’re gonna take this from a “feel bad for Dick angle, not all fascists are bad” or a “Dick fucked up hard” angle. We can just say this storyline is at the very least insensitive given current events and Dick’s ethnic roots.
Plus, Dick turning on Superman is just weird, and the preview pages are not helping my concerns.
So be critical of the concept but be careful not to declare what the narrative is trying to say until we know what the narrative is.
7. And if it does come out to be “feel bad for Dick, not all fascists, narrative supports the fascist regime for just wanting the best for us” angle?
Then go crazy guys. Though even if it does go that way, it still won’t be as Hydra cap. Because at least it’s still only a elseworld. Which is like the worst consolation prize ever.
Summary: Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung bullied you in high school and by some sick joke the universe was playing on you, 2 years later Jungkook was attending the same University as you. Even sicker joke was being stuck with him doing a project on ‘Sex in Cinema’ for a whole semester. Go figure.
Warnings: Smut, a lot of dirty talk holy shit (I can’t help it), oral, masturbation, overstimulation.
2 years earlier:
You walked down the road, almost around midnight, trying to get home as fast as possible the chilly rainy weather. Not to mention the truck that was trailing behind you and the screams and shouts of “wait up thunder thighs!” and “stop running away like a little bitch!” coming from the 3 boys who occupied it. Wrapping your arms around yourself to feel just an ounce of warmth, you willed yourself to ignore these bastards and walk faster. ‘I’m almost home, I’m almost home’ repeating it like a mantra in your head. Really, it was a stupid idea to think that you could enjoy a last high school party with your friends who were the complete opposite of you. After all, when the three most popular boys of the school were determined to make your life a living hell, why would anyone else want to treat you different in this extremely cliché scenario. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly was it about you that made them hate you so much.
From the time that you can remember, and you remembered a lot, Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook had always despised you. It’s like they couldn’t stand your existence. When you would be at the library helping out by staying late, they would wait after school, yes they would go out of their way to stay at school longer, to make sure that your walk home was as stressful as possible. Making fun of pretty much anything and everything you did was a normal occurrence. You had just learned to live with it, but not today.
You suddenly started to slow your pace. They are cowards, you thought. What can they possibly do? Always taunting, always calling names, always making you feel shit about anything you took interest in. But they were all talk right? You thought, huffing out. People like them walk in groups because they can’t actually do anything alone. You don’t know what came over you, but you suddenly stopped and turned around slowly. The truck that the boys were trailing behind you also slowed and stopped a few meters away.
The one driving was Jimin, while Taehyung sat beside him and Jungkook stood, head poking out of the truck’s opening in the ceiling. You stood defiantly, shaking from the growing rain, your hair soaked and hands tightly by your side. Silently daring them to charge the truck towards you. ‘They won’t do it, they’re cowards’ you thought, your confidence growing slowly. You couldn’t tell where this adrenaline rush had come from to give you such courage to finally stand your ground, just a few weeks away from graduation. You could see Taehyung’s cunning, and terrifyingly psychotic grin widening as he relentlessly whispered in Jimin’s ear, whose grip on the wheel was tightening as he looked you right in the eyes. Jungkook was laughing. He apparently found the situation so amusing, that you decided now to grow a spine and challenge them. Suddenly, the sound of the engine revving was as loud as the rain.
It all went pretty much downhill from there. The last thing you remembered was your too loud heartbeat, the bright flash from the truck and Jungkook’s face suddenly forming a horrified expression as if he wasn’t just laughing at you.
You weren’t looking for him specifically among the crowd flooding into the lecture hall. But something did happen inside you when you spotted him. A kind of lightness, or a lifting of some heavy part of yourself. Everything was settling into a nice, normal routine. You were going about your daily lives in an ordinary manner, and you were doing it completely separately.
He sat in the fourth row, and you sat at the back. Only now there was no rising sense of dread. You didn’t keep your hand to yourself when the lecturer asked a question. You answered, without the background sound of someone snickering. And even when it felt as though he was looking at you, when you snuck a glance at him you only ever saw the back of his head.
He bent low over his notes, and his head occasionally lifted a little as he really listened to whatever the lecturer was saying. Once or twice you actually caught him nodding, or doing a little staggered-looking half laugh over some ridiculous concept.
As if he loved it all now.
He loved it so much he was sometimes at the lectures early. You would come in with Y/B/F, still giggling over something ridiculous, and get the faint prickle that told you he was already there. Only now when it happened it didn’t make you want to cover herself up, or run and hide. There was nothing to hide from. Everything was going to be super cool and totally fine from here on in. Or it would have been, if it were not for the group project. The one that you were so excited for that you didn’t process it when your lecturer started reading out the names. You would be working with Y/B/F—that was a given. They were going to watch ridiculously filthy movies together and laugh about bobbing butts and ogle Ewan McGregor’s penis.
And then you heard his name.
Followed by yours.
Distantly, like in a dream of being in class.
“Miss Y/L/N, do you have a problem with that assignment?”
Everyone was looking at you now. No—not just looking. Examining, as though You had become a new and baffling species. The girl who was not excited about being carried by Jungkook. The creature who seemed horrified at the prospect of working with him. It made it difficult to do anything at all, even with Y/B/F urging you to say yes, yes I do have a fucking problem. Though You still didn’t expect the shake of you head to happen. Just one little accidental shake of you head and that was it. Your lecturer moved on to his next victim, leaving you in something You once had a nightmare about in ninth grade. Working with Jungkook. On a semester-long project.
About sex in cinema.
“Don’t worry, we can fix this. Just go to his office and talk to him privately about it. He would have to be Satan himself to not understand,” You heard Y/B/F whisper.
But the words seemed even further away than you name had when your lecturer read it out.
“Right. Right. Yeah. You’re right.”
“I can come with you if you want.”
“No, that’s okay. That’s fine.”
“Are you sure? You look like you’ve been punched. In the face. With a small nuclear blast.”
“I’m sure,” You said, but soon came to regret that firmness in your voice. The steady nod that told Y/B/F it was okay for you to go in a different direction once you were outside. It only meant that You were on your own when you got to the tiny hallway outside your lecturer’s door.
And saw that Jungkook was already waiting.
Of course he was—he probably had the same concerns as you. No matter how sorry he was or what he thought of being in the red and being wrong, he would never want to work in close quarters with you for the entire semester. In fact, him being sorry likely made the situation seem worse to him. Most likely he had calculated all the awkward conversations you guys would have to have and how far apart he would have to stand to keep you comfortable, and found it as unbearable as you did.
Even though his expression seemed to say something else.
Oh god. His expression was saying something else.
Then he held up his hands, as though to calm you.
And you knew.
“All right, Y/N, I know that you’re probably thinking it’s way better if you do this project with that gal pal of yours, but wait, okay? I got reasons why this is gonna be fine.”
“Is that seriously why you’re here? To stop me asking to switch us?”
“Well…no. Not stop you exactly. Stop is a really strong word.”
“While I’m glad you’ve learned that—” You said, your voice briefly catching when you saw his wince. He winced, your mind hissed, before you forced yourself to finish. “I still think it covers what’s happening here.”
“I just wanted to talk to you about it for a second. Just, like, hear me out.”
“I want to. I really do. But come on. You know I wasn’t born yesterday. This has all the hallmarks of some kind of trap or prank or joke at my expense.”
“How could it possibly be a trap or prank? He put people together based on…I don’t even know what he put people together based on. But it couldn’t have had anything to do with me.”
You searched his face, looking for the lie. Waiting for him to show some hint of bullshit, beneath those too-kind eyes and his spread hands and the obvious logic of what he was saying.
Only there was nothing, nothing, nothing.
And it made no difference at all.
“Okay, I buy that. I do. Yet the fact still remains: I cannot do a project with you. Ever. You have to know that doing anything like that is completely impossible for me. Right?”
“I was just thinking that maybe…maybe you could give it a chance. You know, now that we’re on speaking terms and everything is almost cool between us.”
“You think everything is cool between us?”
“Well, maybe not cool exactly. More like…okay.”
“Still need to dial it back a notch, chief.”
“Reasonable? Not bad? Kind of semi decent?”
“That last one is getting close.”
He sighed, shoulders sagging.
Relenting, you thought. He’s actually relenting.
“Fine, we are a fucking disaster.”
“Now you’re getting the idea,” You said.
“But I figure we can work on it.”
“By doing a project on sex in the cinema together?”
“Well,” he said. “When you put it like that it sounds dumb.”
“There’s no other way to put it! That is literally what you’re suggesting.”
“Yeah, I get that. I just…want to not get that. I want it to be easier or better or just not the way this is.”
“That could have been my daily prayer in high school, Jungkook.”
He didn’t react the way You expected to, with more weird arguing.
He just closed his eyes.
He closed them like someone had just told him his family had been in a fatal accident.
“I wish I could go back and start over again. More than wish—I would give everything I have to start over again. The wrestling, this scholarship, every party I ever went to and every fun thing I ever did. And you can choose to not believe me about that, but—”
“I believe you.”
“I’m as surprised as you are, but yeah.”
“Then why does this have to be such a big deal?”
You thought of Y/B/F saying attempted murder.
“Y/N that is fucking attempted murder. Babe, you don’t have to feel bad about anything you put him through now. His friends and him included, ran you over with a fucking truck. How much physio and other therapy sessions did you have to go through because of them, huh?”
The terror that used to flood you when he walked down the hall.
That ever-present sensation of a grille barrelling into your body.
“Because understanding that someone is truly sorry and wanting to spend huge amounts of time with them are two different things. I might see that you mean this, and know rationally that I can almost sort of trust you. Maybe I even want it to be that easy, too. But your face is the one I had nightmares about for two years. Your smile doesn’t seem happy to me. I associate it with cruelty.”
You shook your head. Glanced away from him so you didn’t have to see the defeated look on his face.
“It’s hard for me to look at you, Jungkook, no matter how much I appreciate what you’ve done here.”
“That was a really well-thought-out and logically sound speech.”
“I know it was. I’m pretty proud.”
“And I have no argument against it.”
“You don’t need one. What you’ve done here…” You gritted your teeth hard and looked at the ceiling. But this time it didn’t stop the tears. They were already welling up by the time You explained the rest to him.
“It means a lot. And a million men would never have done the same, I can promise you. I don’t have any messages from Jimin on my phone. Taehyung isn’t going to call anytime soon. It’s just you, a rare fantasy in the middle of all this dismal reality.”
He turned around when you were done. All the way around—and then his arms went up to cover his head and you understood. What you said had affected him, strongly. Maybe more than his words had affected you. It took him twice as long to get it together, and even after he had he couldn’t quite look at you. He just kept staring at the wall and clenching his jaw.
And saying things. Oh yeah, he said things, in a strained, shaky voice.
“I meant what I said, you know. That you are the very best.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going to ask you not to say it again.”
“I can’t stop. I have the opposite of whatever idiocy infected me in high school.”
“What, like insane-need-to-compliment fever?”
“Pretty much, yeah,” he said.
“Well it has taken a raging hold of you, let me tell you.”
“I know it seriously cannot be stopped.”
“I think you have a terminal case.”
“Not a bad way to go, if you ask me,” he said, so soft and sincere it took all your strength to stop yourself smiling in response. You could feel your lips trembling. Your cheeks ached with the effort of pinning them down, yet still You knew you were failing. You could see it in his satisfied expression.
And hear it in his words.
“That’s better. Seeing you look happy.”
“I am happy,” You said, then added without thinking: “Are you?”
Of course you didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a polite habit, based on interactions with people other than Jungkook. People who had actual problems, who lived troubled lives, who might answer with a god no. Jungkook would never need to answer with a god no. His life was full of endless possibilities and unfettered glory. He could snap his fingers and have a thousand people follow him to the ends of the earth.
He even looked that way, in the dim light of the narrow hallway between these offices.His hair was the colour of dark chocolate. Every item of clothing suited him perfectly, from the rich grey-blue of his V-neck to the jeans he’d tucked into his timberlands. He exuded cool from every pore; he could have stepped off the cover of a magazine.Yet all you could see was his face as it slowly sagged. It was like watching someone cut the strings that had held a mask in place—a mask you hadn’t known he was wearing. You thought that smiling golden god who had tormented you was the real him, but for a second you couldn’t be sure. Just for one heart-rattling second, and then the door to the office opened and that glimpse of something else was gone—so fast You would imagine later that it had never existed.
It was just a trick of the light.
Better to focus on the real and the now.
“What can I do for you two today?” Professor asked.
Then you took a breath and answered.
“Nothing,” You said.
A few weeks later:
After that day, you didn’t know how or why you suddenly decided to give working with him a try, but so far, it was going…. okay. You two met up at the library, took your notes, glancing at each other once in a while, mostly Jungkook, asking each other questions relevant to their awkward topic given the situation and that was that. He made jokes sometimes that managed to get out a few carefree laughs out of you as well. It was all… comfortable. Nothing that you had expected. That is why, you decided, it was time to move on to watching actual movies for references, in your project.
It was nearly one in the morning, on a Wednesday night when you went to get him as your friend was out and that was the only time Jungkook was free after wrestling practice. Everyone was in bed, and it gave an eerie feeling to your journey back to your dorm.
As did his silence.
He was always talking—You realized that then. Sometimes he practically kept up a running commentary on everything and anything, yet here he was as quiet as stone. And it wasn’t because he was exerting himself. He didn’t breathe hard once the whole time. He could have been carrying a backpack full of air. But the idea of mental trouble lingered. When you tilted your head a little, you could practically hear his mind going over and over things, in a way that just wasn’t like him. He was easy-going. Happy-go-lucky. He never worried about things the way you did.
“Jungkook, are you okay?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. You just seem a little…”
Like an ominous statue of yourself.
“I was just thinking what movie we should watch.”
“Oh. Oh. You mean…right now?” You asked.
“Well, that’s what you came to get me for.”
“That’s true, I did come and get you for that.”
“Unless you don’t want me in your room so late.”
“No, no why would I…no, that’s cool.”
“You’re in the Jubilee Building, right?”
You had the strongest urge to ask him how he knew. But that seemed just as weird as objecting to him being in your room.
“Yeah. You just go past the science block and then—”
“Right, right, right I got it, I got it. The statue of Heo Nanseolheon is outside it, yeah?”
“That’s the one. Then it’s the third floor. Don’t worry though, there’s an elevator.”
“Ah, it wouldn’t have been a big deal.”
“Do you wanna let me unlock the door?” you asked standing behind him when you both reached your dorm.
“Oh shit, yeah. Yeah, go ahead,” he said moving his bulky body out of the way as you slid past him to unlock the door. Everything had returned to the way it should be now between you and Jungkook.
Except for the sexy movie you were now going to watch.
Alone. Together. On your bed. In the middle of the night.
You let him pick the movie, thinking that would make things easier somehow. Nothing could be misconstrued, at least, that way. He wouldn’t think you meant anything by your choice, whatever it might be. But you forgot that he might mean something with his choice. You watched the heroine trying to clumsily pick up the hero at the start of White Palace, and cringed so hard it felt more like a cramp in your gut. Your cheeks grew hot, in a way that made you grateful for the dim light of your feeble bedside lamp.
Otherwise he would see you face go red and know you understood his point—despite the fact that his point was fucking nonsense.
“This is even less realistic than Dirty Dancing.”
“Really? You think so? Like, in what way?” You asked.
“It just seems like she keeps pushing and pushing. No woman would push a guy that good-looking if he didn’t seem into it. I can’t think of anything more embarrassing.”
You didn’t look at him, but knew he shrugged.
His arm rubbed against yours as he did it.
“Maybe she doesn’t care.”
“I guess not.”
“Maybe she knows he’s actually into it.”
“That could be one explanation.” Jungkook says, sighing.
“Plus she obviously gets exactly what she was looking for.” He adds.
Onscreen, Susan Sarandon was going down on James Spader.
Which to you didn’t seem to back up his point at all.
“Oh yeah, I’m sure she’s having a great time getting absolutely nothing out of this.”
“That’s what this looks like to you? Like she’s getting nothing out of this?”
“Well, in movies they make it look like she is. But I doubt she really would be.”
“You doubt that giving a guy a blow job could be enjoyable for a woman.”
You glanced at him then, just to see if his expression was as incredulous as his voice.
Then had to look back at the screen quickly. If anything, his expression was worse. He had one eyebrow raised, and there was almost no humour in his eyes. This was serious somehow.
Much too serious.
“I don’t know. I mean it’s not really something you do for your own enjoyment. You do it for his.”
“So to you there’s nothing pleasurable about it. Nothing sexy about having a guy at your mercy. Begging you, moaning for you, trying not to push too deep when it gets too good.”
Your breath hitched.
“You do those things?”
The words came out too fast. Too disbelieving, too.
But You just couldn’t stop them. They ripped out of you before you had time to talk it over with you mind, all ragged around the edges and maybe a little breathless. Just enough that he likely heard it, and wondered why. You couldn’t tell him, however. You didn’t know yourself.You only knew that when he started talking again You had the urge to put your fingers in your ears.
“Of course I do those things. Having your cock sucked is fucking amazing,” he said, which was absolutely fine.
But then he kept going.
He kept going.
“The heat and the slickness and her looking up at you as she works it with her hands and lips and tongue. Especially the tongue. The tongue is the best part. Watching it curl right around the—”
“Well, okay, it sounds cool when you put it that way.”
God your voice sounded loud. And too fast again, too. All your words practically jumbled together.
“I don’t know what other way it could possibly be.”
“How about hold still while I fuck your face? Some guy coming right in your eye? Losing a chunk of hair because he pulled too hard?”
“You’re not serious. Tell me honestly. None of that happened.”
Now his voice was bright with amusement. But it didn’t make you feel any better.
“All of that happened. To me. More than once.”
“Yeah but after…”
“After he came then he…”
He made a circle with his hand bobbing his head, as though you should know that one thing logically followed on from the other. It was all completely easy and obvious.
Instead of the hardest quiz you had ever had to get through.
“Then he what? Gave me cab fare?”
“No. No. After that then this happens.”
You glanced at the thing he was pointing at.
Then had to look away again, quick. At your hands, at the bedspread.
At him, as he oh-so-slowly realized what your sudden awkwardness meant.
“This has never happened to you. Holy shit. You’ve never had a guy go down on you.”
“I have had a guy go down on me. I totally have.”
“Are you sure about that? You don’t look sure.”
“Well, maybe not like this.”
“There’s no other way to do it. This is actually the most basic, ordinary way to go about eating pussy.”
At those words, you could feel the fire burning on your cheeks and your breathing getting laboured. Jungkook really had no filter.
“Yeah, but this seems really exciting and sexy and hot.”
“Going down on a girl is really exciting and sexy and hot. Like I said about giving a guy head? Exactly the same principle. You get to see you writhe and shake and push herself against your mouth. Just like that, just like Sarandon is doing. Look at her. Look at her.”
“I am. I am looking,” You said, but You weren’t, not really.
You were thinking of the shiver that had gone through you when he said look, soft as butter and so oddly tender. And the way that he was looking himself, eyes almost far away.
Like he was seeing Sarandon, but putting someone else in her place.
“Think about how it must feel.”
“Yeah I can…I get that…”
“Think about his tongue slowly easing over her soft folds.”
“Is that…how…is that what you…” You said, breathlessly
“And it works?”
You voice was a whisper now. But that was okay. His was, too. It was so low he had to lean close to ask you questions. He had to meet your gaze, and You had to meet his.
“It makes you…you know. Cum.”
“Oh yeah. But you gotta take your time.”
“I see. I guess that makes sense.” You were just babbling now, trying to keep up with him.
“Let it build, nice and slow. Start by just stroking her with your fingertips. Work her, you know, until her lips part. And then when she’s all open to you, you just trace the shape of her with your tongue. Lick and lick in these ever decreasing circles until you’re right…fucking…there.”
“Where? Where…where are you?”
You shouldn’t have asked. You knew you shouldn’t as soon as it was out. Your faces were too close together now, and his body seemed to be looming over yours. That was his shoulder, almost nudging your chin. And his thigh, pressing deep and hard into yours. His answer was never going to make any of this better.
Then it came, hotter than molten lava and twice as destructive.
“Her clit. Her slick, swollen clit.”
“I see. That makes sense,” You said, even though that wasn’t what you wanted to go with.
No, what you wanted to go with was more like oh my fucking God this can’t be reality.
“Then you just…stroke it.”
“Until she’s mindless.”
“Doesn’t even know what she’s saying anymore, or doing. She might tell you to bite, to fuck her with your tongue and fingers, harder or faster or some word that doesn’t even make sense. Hips coming up to meet you, greedy for it, horny for it, so horny she barely notices that her hand is in your hair and she’s squeezing tight enough for it to sting, so close to coming that her whole body is shuddering and shivering and flushing that deep, good pink. Soon as you see it you just know she’s burning. That her clit is aching and throbbing and her pussy is all open and slippery, and one more second of this will make her come. She’s already coming, before you even know where you’re at. Hard, hard, hard, like she never has before.”
You were holding your breath by the time he was done. You practically had to—his face was so close now you could have blinked and brushed his cheek with your eyelashes. Every word he said seemed to stroke against your face, cool at first but then more heated. As though he was starting to boil alive inside, too. Certainly he looked that way. You have never seem him flushed like this, not even when he pushed himself during a match.
Not even when he was embarrassed.
Though you supposed that wasn’t a common occurrence. He didn’t seem to be embarrassed now, and he’d just said all those words. He said clit and pussy and slippery, as if that was just a normal way to talk to your friend. And he did it all without flinching, too. Without glancing away or putting some distance between you. In fact, those eyes of his—now heavy lidded and so soft focus—seemed intent on you more than they ever had been before. They skittered all over you face, searching for something you had no idea how to give.
You didn’t even know what the something was.
You only knew that it made you forget yourself, just as he had described.
It made you search his face back, marvelling over every brutish line and gentle curve. Those lips of his, as plump as a girl’s yet so masculine at the same time. Every inch of them gleaming, as if he’d slicked them with gloss in anticipation of a kiss.
Though even in that moment you didn’t really believe you wanted that.
Until he whispered, low and heavy against your own lips.
“You can, you know.”
It jolted you, when he said it.
But not as much as realizing why he said it.
You followed his gaze down, and took in the unmistakable sight of your hand in your lap. Really, really high up in your lap. Almost between your legs, in fact—though that was fine, it was cool, it was okay. You stuttered ‘no, no I didn’t really want to do that’, but it didn’t matter.
Because his hand was actually between his legs.
“I do,” he said.
As the whole world as You knew it dissolved right in front of your eyes.
“Fuck, yes. I’m dying to.”
“Because of the film. Because of the movie.”
“Sure. We can say that, if you want.”
You closed your eyes. Swallowed thickly.
Wished hard that he hadn’t added that last part.
“If we could that would be awesome.”
“No problem. I mean it was probably inevitable that this would happen to us.”
“Probably, yeah. Almost definitely, in fact.”
“Just a natural response to a sexy movie.”
“Seems that way to me.”
“So you just slip your hand under your waistband, and I’ll slip my hand under mine,” he said, which was fine all on its own. The problem was that he then went ahead and did it. You tried not to look, but saw anyway. You saw the way he fumbled in his haste, as though all his talk was only calm on the surface. Underneath, something was paddling frantically. It was making his cheeks pink and his body all trembly.
And his dick hard. God, his cock was hard.
You could see that without even trying at all. The curving shape beneath his sweatpants was enormous and unmistakable, and even if it hadn’t been, his hand made it pretty clear. As You watched, he eased it over that solid length, before finally clasping it in a way that shoved the swollen head right up against the tented material. Now You could make out ruder details, like the thick ridge around the head, and the slit at the tip. Both pronounced, explicit, rude.
But that wasn’t what really got you.
It was the way he stopped to lick his palm, before shoving it
under his waistband.
“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god, are you serious?”
“It’s cool. it’s fine. We don’t even have to look at each other.”
“No I guess not. I guess…I guess that I can just watch the screen.”
“We’re just two people getting off over a hot movie.”
But that wasn’t strictly true. You weren’t getting off over the movie at all. Nothing was even happening anymore—it was just rich people looking down their noses and arguments over a Dust buster. If anything, it was vaguely depressing, rather than lust-inducing.
Yet still You sat there, face burning, body tender and rigid all at the same time. Half of you stuffed so full of embarrassment and shock you sort of wanted to block everything out, the other half just shamelessly straining to hear every single tiny sound he made. Never daring to look, of course, but then…
You really didn’t need to.
He made so much noise that you could make out almost everything. Every little moan and gasp—and there were a lot of them, too. Lots of thick, guttural moans that started on an ah and ended with a kind of abrupt sigh, as though a knife had sliced through his throat before he could finish. So many soft mmms and gasps, like he honestly couldn’t get enough of whatever he was doing.
Though it was the whispers that hit you hardest. They got you right in the gut, low down and deep enough to ache. Oh yeah, he murmured, as though the hottest sex in the world was happening onscreen. As though they were fucking like animals, up and down and left and right. His tone even sounded sort of tremulous, and it got more intense as time went on. Soon he was panting, and rocking, and every now and then uttering something he was clearly imagining himself doing.
“Ah, yeah, suck my cock, just like that,” he said.
Then just to make it extra agonizing, he spat into his hand.
To make it extra slick, you thought, like someone’s mouth. Someone sucking him the way he’d described, slow and steady until he was actually shuddering, right here and now. The bed was moving, at least, and it wasn’t because he was working that cock hard. He wasn’t. He was going slow, so slow, squeezing and rolling rather than the short, fast kind of thing You’d always thought guys did. They almost never seemed to do anything else in porn…but then again they never did all this other stuff, too. You dared to turn you head a little more and saw to your astonishment that he had his hand pressed to his mouth. He was almost biting his fist, chest heaving, body shivering all over—but most important, eyes closed.
He couldn’t even see you looking. You were free to do as you pleased.Yet something held you back. You couldn’t seem to do more than peek out of the corner of you eye, and even that made you feel strange. You kept getting this clenching sensation—sort of like embarrassment or humiliation—and it got worse when his back arched. When he actually said out loud that he was almost there, that he was so close, that he was gonna come all over your duvet. I need something to do it on, he said, and even that had a shameful frisson of its own. You had a brief flash of him kneeling up and suddenly coming all over your face, or maybe pulling down that ridiculously large neck hole to expose your breasts.
Followed by an image of that thick white liquid coating you, striping you face, dripping off your tight little nipples. Him pushing his cock past your lips to finish off, groaning as he flooded your mouth.
And he would have flooded it, too. You glanced at him just in time to see him shove his sweatpants down, that big dick swelling under the pressure of his too-tight grip. Thick ribbons of come already hitting his bared belly, over and over until you were sure he must be done. He had to be, yet more kept flowing over his still-working fist. You watched it run down over his fingers in slippery trails before pooling in his lap.
Though none of it was what you kept seeing behind your eyes in the aftermath. Instead, you saw the way his face had looked as he shot his load. The open mouth, and the closed eyes, and most of all the strange, wrenching vulnerability that had covered him for a moment. No mischief, no macho bullshit—just a completely open and abandoned sort of ecstasy.
And all of it for you.
He knew you had watched him. He still knew now. You flicked your eyes back to the screen as he started to catch his breath, but the first thing he did was include you.
“Guess I kind of made a mess here,” he said, everything about his tone suggesting two conspirators, finishing off their evil deed. You even got up after he’d said it, to get him a tissue.
Though when You got back he’d pretty much taken care of most of it.
You stopped in the doorway to the bathroom at the sight:
Him, casually licking his messy fingers.
It took you a good two minutes after that to go over to him, with your fistful of toilet paper. And when you did go, it was on very shaky legs. Your whole body felt shaky, in fact—though not in any way you’d experienced before. This was like being full to the brim with something burning hot, skin so close to ripping that it couldn’t keep still. Sometimes you thought you could see it shivering slightly under the strain, and every inch of it was tender, so tender. His leg brushed yours as you sat down, and it was agony.
You even winced—then immediately regretted it.
He had been concentrating on clean-up. Now he looked up at you sharply.
And asked questions You were loathing to answer.
“Have you…not? I mean have you not—”
“I couldn’t. I’m sorry, I couldn’t.”
“God, you must be bursting.”
“Honestly, I’m fine.”
The problem was though; you didn’t seem fine.
You couldn’t meet his gaze. Your hands were fists on your thighs.
And of course he could see all of that.
“You look like you’re bursting.”
“Oh yeah? And what does bursting look like?”
“Your voice is shaking.”
“Is it?” You asked, voice so light it almost passed.
Almost, almost, almost.
“Your cheeks are flushed.”
“And then there’s the fact that your nipples are like diamonds. Fuck, look how stiff they are. Isn’t that agonizing, having them like that? I bet your clit’s the same. Bet your pussy is so wet. So wet you’re making a mess of the nice, clean clothes.”
Your cheeks grew hotter and hotter as he whispered each word. By the time he was done they felt like they were going to melt right off you face. That tense, cringing feeling in your stomach was ten times worse, and that was before he got to the last point. The one about the clothes, and the mess, and oh god what if he was right? It felt as if he might be. You weren’t wearing any underwear, and everything was really slippery between your legs. You could feel it, every time You moved.
“Oh fuck, sorry, sorry I don’t…I hope…it’s just that—” You didn’t even know why you were apologizing
“Honey, you don’t need an explanation.”
His tone was like sinking into a warm bath—and the thumb you could feel stroking over you forearm only pulled you deeper down. He just did it so idly. So like he wasn’t touching you at all.
Before you knew it, you were up to your ears in liquid heat.
“Are you sure? Because it kind of feels like I do.”
“I’m sure. I mean, the movie was pretty intense.”
“Right, exactly. Super intense.”
“So why deny yourself?”
“I could leave, if you want.”
“No, god no,” You said, too fast and too fierce.v
Though it was only afterward that you realized how it sounded:
Not like someone trying to say you didn’t want to masturbate.
Like someone saying that you wanted him to stay.
And he took it that way, too.
“Or, you know. I could just…do it for you,” he said.
Then you just had to do your best not to go out of your mind.
You stopped herself from jumping up. Kept your hands from flailing.
Didn’t look at him, in case looking made you do something crazy.
“Oh my god. You can’t be serious. You can’t be serious.”
“Probably wouldn’t take a lot.”
“I always take a lot.”
“Even when you’re alone?”
“Especially when I’m alone.”
“Well, maybe we should see about that.”
Again, you had the urge to get up. Maybe you even would have, if it hadn’t been for the other things he was doing. The thumb stroking your arm was now the back of his hand, running the length of your arm over and over. And that was his breath against the curve of your throat, so close and warm he could have been kissing you there. It felt like kissing.
Only without the scariness of the real thing.
All of this was without the scariness of the real thing.
It was just a game, that was all—and one that you could win if you really put you mind to it. He thought he could get you so easily, but he was utterly and completely wrong. You were a rock, in the face of whatever he was going to do. You were impervious to the pleasure he seemed to think he was going to dole out, to the point where you almost laughed when he slipped his hand beneath the waistband of those too-big sweatpants.
It was weird. Slightly uncomfortable.
Not sexy in the least.
And then his fingertips just oh-so-lightly grazed the pouting lips of your swollen pussy, and things pretty much started to go downhill from there. The sensation it sent through you was just so intense, and over something so small. He hadn’t even slipped between them to your clit, or eased a finger into your slick little hole. In truth, you weren’t entirely sure he’d touched you at all.
Yet you still had to clench your jaw.
You had to tell herself that it was just the stuff that had happened before—the film and him coming and then licking his fingers like a satisfied cat. It wasn’t anything to do with this right now, with him touching you, with his skill. He wasn’t skilful at all. He was terrible. Awful.
he worst lover you had ever had.
You had no idea why your thighs were trembling. Or what made you moan when he finally, finally, finally eased his fingers into that slick slit, and then topped it off by telling you just what he found there.
“Ohhhh fuuuuck you are wet. You’re so wet. Jesus Christ, Y/N, how can you stand it? How can you sit still and quiet with those eyes closed when your pussy is like this? So slippery I can just glide all the way down and ease on in and oh man, oh man,” he said, and all You could do in response was shiver and make a number of embarrassing noises. First for his words, and then oh god then for the feel of him doing it.
He used two fingers—two of those long, thick fingers—yet somehow it didn’t hurt when he pushed into you. There was no fumbling or searching. Your body just seemed to open for him, as though they’d dated for years and he’d worked on you for hours. He knew exactly how to touch you there, and when he did you simply had to respond. Your gasp rung out in the small room.Though you vowed it would be the last one. That was it now—you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of anything else. Not even when he started working his fingers in and out, slow and steady and so unbelievably good. you kind of wanted to cry over the unfairness of it. Why was he the one who had to be so good at this? How did he know how to do it in this deliberate, teasing, tantalizing way?
Even watching him do it was exciting. You made the mistake of glancing down and all you could see was his hand rolling beneath the material, the waistband occasionally stretching to give you a glimpse of your glossy cunt, his gleaming fingers, the way you were spread around that thick intrusion…
You had to look at the screen just to stop yourself coming right then and there—though even those measures had an exciting quality of their own. James Spader was just doing something incredibly dull now, while you sat here watching through slitted eyelids, cheeks flushed and legs spread, as a man slowly fingered your slick, flushed pussy. Back and forth, back and forth, until you were so beside yourself you weren’t sure you even wanted to hold back your moans.
You only knew that you were still trying, for reasons that seemed vague and far away now. It just doesn’t matter, your mind hissed, but you kept it up anyway. You held yourself more tightly and bit deep into your lip—deep enough that you tasted blood. And when he started to ease those fingers up, you shut your eyes tight. You thought of other things, more boring things: dry books and bird-watching.
All to no avail. He made one circle around your clit.
Just one tiny, insignificant circle, and that was it.
Your orgasm rolled up from that stiff little bud, in one all-consuming and all-powerful wave. It took away your control over your body—your toes curled tight and your back arched. But most important, it took away your control over your mouth. It let one little word slip out.
Though one little word was more than enough.
“Jungkook,” You said, and after that the game was pretty much up. That was gratitude in your voice and pleasure in the sigh behind it, and all wrapped in the neat little bow of his name. There was no more pretending that it wasn’t him who had made you feel this way, or suggesting that all of this was just a game.And he knew it immediately. He kept up the thrusts of his long, thick fingers, helping you prolong the feeling of your orgasm for as long as possible. And he didn’t stop there. Your face was starting to contort from the oversensitivity and it was obvious that Jungkook knew it too from the way he bit his lip and started to purposely move his fingers faster once again.
“Ahh! J-Jungkook… I can’t….” You moaned out, though this seemed to have no effect on him as he seemed determined to elicit another orgasm from you. His fingers scraping against your tightening walls as they fought to repeatedly slam back inside you. Your thighs were shaking, your eyes half lidded, leaning back on your hands as his worked between your legs. Suddenly you gripped Jungkook’s moving hand as you came dangerously close to letting go.
“That’s it, fuck, cum again for me Y/N. I need this. You need this” He almost sounded desperate and it made you want to sob because everything was so fucking hot.
With a cry of his name, you came undone again, your body almost curling in towards itself from the sensitivity.
“Holy shit, holy shit,” he said, as though you’d cried out the filthiest thing on the face of the earth. And, again, he didn’t stop there. You could hear him fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants already—though you tried to turn it into something else in your head. He was just pulling them up, you thought. They had slid down as he serviced you, that was all.
Only it wasn’t all.
When you made the mistake of glancing his way, you saw so much more than you were ready for. It was supposed to be over now, completely over, but he’d shoved everything down to mid-thigh and his cock was in his hand again and god god god why was it so arousing? You’d had cum twice already. He’d had one orgasm already, and now he was being so fucking filthy.
Yet somehow the filthiness only made it worse.
You came searingly close to telling him yes.
And go on.
And come all over me—just like you’d imagined.
For one wild second, it even seemed like he might. He was groaning and panting and he kept saying things, incredible things like “do you see what you do to me do you get how fucking horny you make me oh fuck just hearing you moan my name”. His hand was heavy on your shoulder, and you knew he was close. He was going to yank your top down any second now.
Any second, you thought.
Though you didn’t realize how much you wanted it until the first thick burst slid over his fist.
Didn’t know how little control you had over herself until he grunted your name and shuddered violently, that slick fluid easing over his still-pumping fist. After all, if you’d had any you would have stayed right where you were, content to just watch.Instead of leaning forward to take that heavy, swollen, slippery head in your mouth, to catch the last ribbons of his salt-sweet cum all over your eager tongue.
“Fucking fuck, Jagiya” Jungkook cursed loudly, watching you take the head of his cock in your mouth. He slid his hands in your hair, gripping it from the bottom of your skull gently, rocking your face back and forth, riding out the last of his high. You looked up at him, eye still glassed over, breathing hard and laboured and slid the head of him out of your mouth.
There was no doubt that Jungkook was shocked at your boldness but he seemed pleasantly surprised. His pupils blown out, lips swollen, skin gleaming. He truly was a work of art. The magnitude of what you two had done hit you hard. So, naturally, there was only one thing left to do in panic.
Kick him out.
“Jungkook…you need to leave”
A/N: So, Idk what happened but yeah hope you all enjoy. Not sure if I’ll make this a series since I’m bad at continuing ideas. I may stick to separate scenarios. I get bored easily. However, please feel free to check out my blog and send me ideas for new fics
So ‘it’ happened. You got sick, you scheduled too much at once, you had a bad day (or week). We’ve all been there and it sucks. And now you’re behind and you’re feeling overwhelmed. These are just a few tips I have for getting back on track (and hopefully ahead) after falling behind.
If you are behind on homework it’s time to prioritize. You’re at a point where it might be worth it to let the tiny assignments that aren’t worth very much sit on the back burner until you’ve dealt with the important stuff. So what are your priorities?
Do you have work in a class that you’re doing really well in and you feel like you can set it aside and hand it in late, or you can afford to miss the assignment without screwing up your final grade? Great, set it aside and leave that stress for later.
Do you have work in a class you’re terrified of failing? Okay, focus in on that. If you don’t eliminate the chief point of stress first you’re going to find it very hard to focus on anything else.
Do you have exams coming up that you haven’t studied for? This is rough but you need to decide whether sleep or studying is better for you. There’s no wrong choice here; it’s different for everyone. I am a ‘needs sleep’ person but my roommate is a ‘stay up and get shit done’ person. If you know you can’t function without a decent amount of sleep then ixnay the idea of an all night all together.
Now that you’ve figured that out it’s time to focus; what topics are you doing the worst in? Get started on figuring out what it is you don’t know.
Also make sure to write down what you do know and keep looking over that constantly so you don’t lose the knowledge you already have.
Now figure out what methods you actually have time for; if you’re in a crunch you may not have time for flashcards. I find that when it a crunch it’s helpful to essentially begin compiling a cheat sheet.
Write down everything you could possibly need for the exam as though you were going to be able to take it into the exam. Make it clear! Make it easy to glance at! Don’t waist time on making it look pretty!
As you go through creating the sheet make sure that you would know what kind of problem or topic that the concept/formula would go with and how you would use it to solve a problem.
The above means that you aren’t just copying over formulas, dates, quotes, etc.; You are committing the CONTEXT to your memory and if need be to your sheet.
Is the problem reading? Heaven knows that’s been mine this week! First thing first: READ for the NEXT class. Don’t start with what you should’ve read last week; playing catch up is stressful and means that you may do a ton of work and still not be prepared for the next class.
If you come across parts that don’t make sense because you haven’t read the earlier stuff skip back and skim those bits.
Once you’ve read for the next class you can decide what the best option is for continuing.
Either start at the back end of what you’re behind on or work your way backwards.
Is it an essay? Is it more than one? Okie doke. Break those kiddos down into the sections you think you need; intro, para 1, para 2, etc, conclusion.
Alright, now give those sections titles and maybe like a brief summary.
Okay now you’re ready; pick one section from one of your papers to start on. It doesn’t have to be the intro you just need to get started. I like to start with ones that require a bit of research on my part so that I can really get the ball rolling and start collecting articles.
Then you should either set a timer for about thirty minutes and switch off every time the timer goes off, or (my preferred method) write until you finish the section before deciding which one to work on next.
The real key is making sure that you change sections when you find yourself losing steam even if it’s in the middle of a sentence. Sometimes I start a sentence and then forget where I was going with it and it throws off the whole game so by changing sections you allow yourself to refresh and come back with new eyes.
That’s what I’ve got for now, I hope that some of this helps. I also want to remind you that you are not a bad person for getting behind whatever the reason was. Sometimes it happens even when you’re paying attention so try not to worry too much about it! If you find yourself getting overwhelmed and way too stressed out remember to let yourself breath and walk away for a few minutes. I wish you the best of luck and my ask/messenger is always open if you need anything.
“We both tried to grab at the last copy of that desired book at the same time and had a tug of war.” (from this post)
Sterek ficlet, T, ~1.6k words. Basically, I was going to just do a tiny little drabble as a warm-up for working on one of my WIPs, and then I was having too much fun with it to stop.
(Btw, if you couldn’t tell, I totally made up the book series in question. Any resemblance to any actual book is completely coincidental.)
It’s definitely some kind of torture that on the day the seventh and final Path of Wolves novel comes out, Stiles still has to go to school like it’s not the most important day of the year or anything.
And okay, so it’s not like anyone else in Beacon Hills has even heard of these books except Scott, and then only because Stiles can’t shut up about them, but still. Stiles spends the entire day practically vibrating out of his skin with the anticipation. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t taken in a word any of his teachers has said today. The only reason he doesn’t try to make a break for it during lunch is that he can’t afford another detention on his record, and even so, he’s still sorely, sorely tempted to risk it. In the end, he has to get Lydia to hide his car keys from him.
(He was going to ask Scott to do it, but Scott would have caved as soon as Stiles started begging, and Stiles is definitely not above begging, so Lydia it is.)
The instant the final bell rings, though, Stiles is out of there, flying across the parking lot and gunning the Jeep. The bookstore probably only ordered a few copies, and if Stiles isn’t holding one of them by the time he leaves, somebody’s about to get murdered.
Not that he actually expects any competition, but it’s better not to let these things go to chance. He already messed up once by procrastinating on pre-ordering until they were sold out; he didn’t think it was possible for a Path of Wolves novel to be sold out. He was wrong, and now he’s paying for it by having to physically go to the bookstore to get it.
Either Stiles vastly overestimated how many copies the store was going to order, or else he vastly underestimated how many people in Beacon Hills read these books, because when he skids to a stop in front of the New Releases shelf, there’s only one copy left. One beautiful, perfect hardcover copy.
Lucky for him, one copy is enough.
Except that when he grabs ahold of it, someone else does, too.
For a long second, Stiles can’t even believe what he’s seeing. Another hand, on his book. Another hand that’s not letting go, even though Stiles has already clearly and unambiguously grabbed it by the spine and isn’t letting go, either.
Stiles turns his head incredulously to get a look at this usurper, and it’s Derek Hale. As in, made-of-muscles, leather-wearing lacrosse captain Derek Hale.
Until this moment, Stiles wasn’t even sure Derek could read, and now he’s trying to steal Stiles’ obscure eight-hundred-page fantasy novel. What.
Zach asking you to sleep over at his house - Part 2
A/N: Sorry on such a long wait for this imagine. I hope that it was worth it though. Enjoy my lovelies:)
The final bell rings, signalling the end of class and also the end of the school day. You start packing up your things with shaky hands, your nerves getting the best of you. It’s Friday today. Which means it’s the beginning of the weekend. This also means that you will be going to Zach’s house, staying there for the next couple of days.
You have been able to stay calm and collected the next few days after he had asked you to sleep over at his house for the weekend, but right now you can’t help but start to feel really antsy.
A/N: This came to me when I was at the library and the song ‘Stay With Me’ by Sam Smith came on. Let me know what you think? I’ll do it as part of my Jeff x Reader series. ALSO I will be doing all of my requests as well, and some of them that I do will just be your memories of Jeff. Should I make it a separate series? Let me know what you guys think! :D
This is just a preview!
“Are you sure you don’t want to go with me? Because I was thinking,” your boyfriend rubs his thumb across your lip. “We can stop and…” he trails off, biting his lip.
You roll your eyes. “You get a taste and now you can’t stop.”
He chuckles at that. “Technically I didn’t get to taste you,” he grins when notices how your cheeks turn pink. “But that can change.”
Suddenly a body bumps into you from behind. “She can’t go anywhere,” Hannah, who has had too much drink, slurs. “She has to stay here and… and…”
“Fine,” Jeff huffs. “Hog my baby.”
You give him an apologetic smile. “Hurry back,” you lean up and kiss him softly. “We can take advantage of one of the rooms. I’ll let you have another taste.”
“Fuck,” he rasps. “I love you.”
“And I love you,” another peck to his lips you watch him walk over to his car. Why he volunteered to do a beer run was beyond you. Once he’s gone, you turn to Hannah. “You’re a mess.”
She giggles. “No, I’m clean!”
You sigh and wave Clay over who just walked out of the house. “Where’s Jeff?”
“Beer run,” you answer and he frowns.
“But he’s been drinking.”
“He had two beers, two hours ago,” you chuckle. “He’s fine.”
You and Clay try to handle a tipsy Hannah, but she was a sassy drunk. She took her empty beer cup and throws it at Alex. Your brother raises a brow. “Why did she throw a cup at me?”
You can’t help but laugh at that, “She must’ve mistaken you for the trash can.”
“Ha ha ha,” Alex gives you the finger. You laugh again.
But your laugh was cut off by the sound of tires squealing and the sound of- “Oh god, Clay,” you cry. “Jeff!”
You woke up to feeling of something on your face. You sit up and blink the sleep out of your eyes. It’s Jeff’s fingers, twitching against your cheek. Your eyes widen, “Help! He’s awake!”
The Doctor opens the door, giving you the okay to go in. “Come on, sweetie,” Mrs. Akins takes your hand in hers and gives it a gentle squeeze. You look over at Clay and Hannah, both of them giving you a smile.
When you walk into the room, the first thing you want to do is throw yourself into his arms, but you don’t. He’s sitting up, but he still looks weak. The doctor follows in behind you.
“Look who’s here to see you, Jeff,” he gives a smile. “Your family. They’ve been here since day one,” he points to you. “Especially this one.”
“Oh honey,” Mrs. Atkins rushes over to her only child. “I was so worried- we all were.”
“We’re so glad that you’re okay,” Mr. Atkins adds in.
“When can I go home?” Jeff asks, voice rough. “I hate hospitals.”
“Soon baby, soon.”
His eyes move from his mom to you. You smile, “I’ve missed you.”
She manages about three t-shirts, an extra pair of jeans and underwear, a box of treasures she’s been keeping since she was five years old, a tin containing about $130 she’d saved over the years, and the journal she had started keeping this past year. She tries to gather more - memories, clothes, whatever - but her father stands in the doorway, arms folded, snarl permanently in place. She can’t bear be under his gaze anymore, so she leaves.
She can hear her mother crying from the kitchen as she walks out the front door. Her bag is heavy on her back, and she can feel the whispered gossip of her neighbours follow her down the street.
She calls her Abuela first, her mom’s mom and winces when she hears words like ‘abomination’ and ‘devil worship’.
Her mom’s sister is the same. How dare you call here, how dare you put your parents through this.
Issy is her last hope. Her father’s baby sister, only ten years older than Maggie. Issy had managed to escape Blue Springs when she was eighteen, and had not once looked back.
But Issy drives the two hours from Omaha to pick up Maggie. She calls Maggie’s school and explains the situation and helps get her transferred somewhere closer to where she lives. She’s twenty-four and getting a Masters in Software Engineering and doesn’t have to do anything, but she does. Her two roommates - both also in grad programs - agree to let Maggie live in their spare room without hesitation. Ashe studies law and Bridget studies economics and they both hug Maggie when they first meet her because she’s so small and so sad. They take her to Target and buy her some new clothes and they get a new dresser from Ikea and they try to make sure she’s okay without hovering too much.
Ashe tells Maggie that she’s brave, that she still hasn’t come out to her parents despite the fact she’s in a serious relationship. Bridget tells Maggie that she’ll help her with her homework and beat up anybody who gives her hell at her new school.
And Issy tells Maggie that everything will be okay, that they’ll get through this together.
Maggie keeps her head down at school, stays quiet and does her homework and gets good grades. She doesn’t dare rock the boat or cause trouble, because she just can’t do that to Issy. Issy does the same, works hard and saves money, thinking of nothing but her and Maggie’s future.
When Issy graduates, she manages to get a job at Wayne Technologies, and the two of them move to Gotham City. Maggie is just fifteen and she gets a job to try and help out as much as she can. Issy refuses to take a dime from her. So Maggie learns to cook and clean and she makes sure there’s always a plate of dinner waiting for Issy after a long day at work.
When Maggie brings her first girlfriend home, Issy interrogates her. And when Issy brings home Robbie - the man she’ll one day marry - Maggie does the same.
Their family is just the two of them, but there is more love than they know what to do with.
Issy cries when Maggie graduates as valedictorian of her high school class. She cries when Maggie gets a full-ride scholarship to Gotham University. She cries when Maggie moves out. She never cries over her estranged family, over the hateful things her brother has said to her over the years. Maggie makes her strong.
Maggie cries when Issy tells her she’s pregnant. She cries when Issy and Robbie ask her to be the godmother of their child. She cries when she holds her nephew Beckett for the first time. She only cries once over her estranged parents, and when she does, Issy holds onto her tightly, and doesn’t let go until Maggie is ready.
When Alex Danvers kisses her, the first thing Maggie does is call Issy. They talk for hours, Maggie convinced she’d blown things for good, Issy telling her to have a little faith. And when her and Alex finally become an item, Issy texts Maggie nothing but ‘I told you so’.
When Maggie blasts Alex for ignoring her about Valentine’s Day, she calls Issy in tears, rambling about ‘cards from her mom who just happens to be named Eliza’ and ‘there must be something wrong with me’. Issy waits patiently until she’s done, before telling her that no, nothing’s wrong with her. She went through hell and she survived and nobody can make her feel guilty about that.
And when Maggie brings home Alex a few months later, Robbie reminds Issy not to be too embarrassing or hard on Alex. Issy agrees until she sees just how in love Maggie is, then she pulls out the old year books and laughs over them with Alex. Alex invites Issy and the family to National City for Family Thanksgiving, Issy invites Alex and her family to Gotham for Christmas.
As they leave, Issy pulls Maggie aside and tells her how proud she is, of absolutely everything Maggie has accomplished. She tells her that if anybody deserves the love she’s found in Alex, it’s Maggie. She tells her she loves her and to come home again soon and Maggie grins like an idiot and pulls Issy into a hug.
As far as she’s concerned, Maggie Sawyer has only ever had two homes. One is in Alex Danvers’ embrace. The other is wherever in the world her Aunt Issy is.
Summary: AU in which Dean and Cas are both high school teachers. Dean has a crush, but no courage to do anything about it.
Word Count: 1600ish
Warnings: None. I wrote something without smut. What??
“You’re late, Mr. Winchester.”
“The bell was literally ringing as you said that, Lydia,” Dean smiles. “I think we can all let it slide.”
Lydia smiles back and starts sharpening her pencil in the sharpener by the door, where she’s clearly been waiting for him. “I can let it slide,” she agrees, “since you were just out there talking to Mr. Novak.”
what do u think would happen if jeremy walked into the bathroom while michael was crying (like during the party)
OK SO i asked em ( aka @gayradwhitedad ) to help me with this ask and they came up with some really good headcanons ( like wtf they’re the best ) and i drew some of them so!!! the drawings are here and the headcanons are under the cut ( PLEASE READ THE WHOLE THING, IT’S SO GOOD )
RFA + V and Saeran react to overhearing MC's family scold her because they despise who she's dating? Maybe they think they aren't successful and responsible enough or not loyal or trustworthy or feel like MC deserves far better than what she's getting our of them? Specifically I'd like to see Saeyoung's reaction given his insecurities.
And we’re back! Did you guys miss some scenarios?
Hope you like this! ^^
RFA + Saeran and V finding MC’s family disapproval
I just think he’s playing with you.”
He heard that coming from your father when you
two were washing the dishes in the kitchen, Zen noticed you two forgot a plate
and was bringing it to the kitchen.
what makes you think that, dad?” “Well, he’s handsome, I bet he has tons of
women running after him. Maybe famous women? What makes you think he won’t dump
you for some famous actress? He’s a public figure, honey, his image is
everything. Plus… he sounds shallow like that.”
Zen could deal with being called narcissist, workaholic, but… shallow? He was
sounding shallow to your father?
wanted to walk into the kitchen, maybe subtly, maybe not. He wish he had some
really witty and smart statement to give so your father would realize he wasn’t
he was about to step into the kitchen when he finally heard your voice: “If he
sounds shallow, maybe you didn’t pay attention enough to what he was saying,
dad. Have you listened to his story? His problems with his family? The way he
struggled when he started his career as an actor? Have you heard when he told
you how much he loves me and how guilty he feels that we’re still not married?
Come on, dad. Either you weren’t listening, or you don’t know what shallow
honey…” “His family is broken enough, dad. Let’s not break ours too just
because you’re seeing Zen as just another actor, not as the man I chose to
share my life with.”
could almost cry right there. How did he manage to find someone who can see so
deep inside him? Yeah, he definitely likes being known for his looks, but the
fact you see beyond them is really overwhelming.
you two are saying goodbye to your father, he gives a firm handshake to the
man. “I hope we can spend more time
would like that a lot. I see you have a bike, what brand is it?” that goodbye
turned into a long conversation about bikes, which was super boring to you, but
seeing them bonding was worth it.
honestly thought it was a joke when you introduced him as your boyfriend, sis.”
heard when you and your sister were in your bedroom trying to find something
for you to wear, Yoosung accidentally spilled wine on you.
up.” “No, I’m serious! What are you thinking, MC? He seems like a teenage mama’s
boy. Look at what he did to your shirt, he’s so clumsy and… nerve-wracking! You’ll
have to play his mommy all the time!”
it’s not like he haven’t thought about himself like that before, but listening
when it comes from another person, that person being someone who grew up with
you hurts a lot more.
first instinct was head out of there without anybody noticing he’s gone. But…
then your sister would be completely right.
just spilled wine on me because his spatial notion is still a little compromised
due to his eye. Have I told you he hurt his eye trying to protect me, sis? And
yeah, he’s still a little nervous because he doesn’t know my family too well,
but your hostility definitely won’t help him calming down. If you’ weren’t such
a bitch, maybe you would have noticed by now he’s an amazing smart man that
makes me really happy.”
just called me a bitch because of that guy?” “I did, just so you know how
serious I am about him, to the point I’m fighting with my favorite person in
he’s glad he didn’t run and stayed to listen to this. You made him sound like a
really cool reliable guy, the type of man he’s trying to be for you.
you and your sister go back to the living room, she makes sure to sit next to
you two. “So wait… you asked her to be your pre-girlfriend before you got
together? Oh my God, that’s so adorable…”
you two kept squealing over that photo of his with the roses, and though he’s
super embarrassed, he couldn’t help feeling a little smug when your sister said
”Huh, I wish my boyfriend were like this.”
seems a little cold, MC. Are you sure she really likes you?”
heard when you and your brother were setting the table while she was talking to
your parents in the living room, she decided she needed to help as well.
don’t even start, bro.” “I’m not saying this to be an ass! Come on, MC, she’s
so formal! She’s almost like a granny, you’ll get bored if you stay with her!
This if she doesn’t dump you first, she seems cold like that.”
warned her about your brother’s brutal honesty, but this still felt unexpectedly
was really trying to loosen up, and she honestly felt she was doing a good job,
at least next to you and to your friends, maybe she wasn’t and people close to
you were feeling she wasn’t real about your relationship?
been working her ass off on a very strict company basically since she
graduated, she’s still learning to loosen up. You would have noticed this if
you weren’t so desperate about finding something to complain about my
girlfriend, as you typically do.”
MC, calm down! I’m just worried for you.” “I appreciate it, but you’re the one
boring me right now, let’s end this before I stop feeling bored and end up
can’t help feeling this warmth growing inside her. Knowing that you are willing
to fight for her like this is amazing! Not only because she never had that
before, but also because it’s you.
brother decides to talk a little more to her. “Whooooa, so you’re a judo
blackbelt? That’s awesome! You gotta teach me some moves!”
giving this guy an ippon after he pissed you off would satisfy her more than
she cared to admit.
you sure this is a healthy relationship, honey?”
mother asked you when you two were making dinner while he was setting the
table, as you asked him, but he didn’t know where to find the forks.
do you mean, ma?” “I mean, he seems so intimidating and, everything is
happening so fast, you barely know each other and are already engaged, he seems
very intense, for that matter.”
he was indeed very intense, but… intimidating? He never wanted to come across
as intimidating, not to you, not to the woman who raised you.
Was he intimidating you to the point you were
feeling pressured to get married?
I know what you’re trying to say. He’s not like dad, okay? Yes, he is very
intense, just because he never had the chance to express his feelings like all
of us do.“
your father wasn’t good at expressing feelings either, then he expressed with
actions…” “Ma, Jumin would never hurt me, emotionally or physically. I know you
might be thinking I’m on a cycle, that I have daddy issues, but… just give him
a chance, okay? Let him prove he is nothing like my father.”
was really sad for you and your mother. Two amazing women were suffering due to
a man’s behavior, this was awful in so many levels…
walks into the kitchen, pretending he didn’t hear a thing. “Why don’t you just
rest while MC and I cook, maam?”
wow, what a gentleman… nothing like her father.” He smiled genuinely, neither
of the women were feeling intimidated by that smile.
mother and I think you deserve better.”
father says when you were helping him changing a light bulb, Saeyoung decided
to help when he heard this.
would you think that, dad?” “Sweetie, he’s a train wreck! He’s immature, irresponsible,
you told me how rude he acted with you. How can you be sure he won’t start
pushing you away again?”
course he knew how immature and irresponsible he was, but he never really
thought about what if he started getting snappy to you again. He promised he
wouldn’t, but… was he good at keeping promises? Ask his brother.
he had any good sense, he would walk away and pretend he didn’t listen to any
of this. He was already immature and irresponsible, he didn’t need o be nosy as
just pushed me away because he was worried and pretty sure he would die at any
moment back then, dad. He was scared, he’s been scared his whole life! Have I
told you what kind of hell he and his brother grew up at?”
it still doesn’t justify…” “It does to me. He is scared and willing to change
for me, I know that because I trust him. Can’t you trust the man your daughter
loves? Not even a little?”
if you asked him anything with that tone, he would oblige without thinking… ugh,
you’re so sweet, so lovely, so caring… he can never push you away again! Not right
now his life is so great with you and his brother, but it isn’t perfect, since
your parents don’t like him…
be honest with you, son. I still don’t trust you, but my daughter does and she
never failed her judgments, that, and only because of that, I’ll give you the
benefit of the doubt.” You looked at him and smiled.
you, sir. I’ll prove it will be worth it.” Not so immature and irresponsible
right now, is he?
listen to me, this guy is trouble!”
heard this through the baby monitor when you and your sister went to check on
are you saying this?” “MC, he is… creepy! Are you dating him to punish dad?
Look at him, he looks like he’s on the edge of a mental breakdown! Are you sure
you want to play his nurse forever?”
wasn’t on the edge of a mental breakdown! At least not now… at least not since
you came along, but there were a few says, though…
sister is so right! He’s so weird and creepy, he doesn’t deserve you at all!
Why did he even think he could handle trying to be normal and do normal things
not playing his nurse! I like to help him because I love him, and he had mental
break downs in the past, you would have too if you were locked up and forced to
drugs after growing up with an abusive mother. All he needs is support and a
loving family, not this… judgment from you!”
calm down, I was just…” “I know you’re concerned, but focus your concern on
helping me give him what he needs. If you have nothing else nice to say, don’t
say anything at all.”
didn’t hear any of this, he hid in the bathroom when you two left the bay’s
bedroom and kept talking as you walked into the living room.
you two heard the baby crying through the baby monitor, but he quickly stopped,
you two found it odd and went to check on him.
was fine, Saeran was holding him. “Am… Am I doing this right?” Making yours and
your sister’s heart explode from sweetness? Yep, he was doing this right.
are you even thinking dating this guy, MC?”
brother asked you when V went to the toilet, he got lost and tried to get back
to ask your brother where was it, exactly.
do you mean?” “I mean, he’s an old blind man, MC! You’re wasting your youth with
a guy like this, he won’t be able to keep it up with you!”
already thought about it, yes, you were so young, did you really need to take
such a responsibility by dating him?
that coming from your brother, who sounded so worried… he hated being a burden
and provoking this arguing between two family members…
just one year older than you, so chill. And what century are we in? Do you
think just because he’s blind, he’s not able to have a normal life? Dude, we’re
planning a trip to Italy for my birthday, I think that’s pretty normal, don’t
take I easy, I’m just…” “You’re concerned, but you don’t have to. He’s pretty good by himself, and he’s
independent, he doesn’t need me, yet he wants me, and I want him, so there’s
nothing for you to worry about.”
needed you, maybe not to do things for him, yes. But he needed you because he
loved you, and he was so happy that you were so sure about him not being a
were saying goodbye, when your brother said: “I’m sorry, dude.”
you want to apologize, apologize for stressing her out. As for me, don’t worry,
I’ll make sure to bring you a gift from Italy as a peace offer.”