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krabjoons · 3 years

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omg professor... what are you doing?!?!?! [pjm]

⮕ summary: park jimin is the hottest, most popular guy at school. the only catch? he also just so happens to be your teacher.

⮕ pairing: park jimin x reader, mentions of jaebum x reader

⮕ genre: smut, university!au, pwp

⮕ word count: 12.8k

⮕ rating: 18+, nsfw

⮕ warnings: hard dom!jimin x bratty-ish sub!y/n, professor!jimin x university student! y/n (he’s 27-28 ish and she’s 21-22), fuckboy!jaebum, pussy eating, fingering, thigh riding, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk (carries the whole fic tbh), degradation, edging, dumbification, impact play (pussy + ass spanking), manhandling, humiliation, exhibitionism, creampie, teasing, praise, orgasm denial, begging, overstimulation, crying, kissing/making out, jimin’s a meanie but y/n likes it (aka i go ham on the degradation and edging you have been warned), aftercare (like 500 words of it :P)

⮕ a/n: this took too long to come out and has literally been sitting in my drafts since august but here it is! writing this was definitely a rollercoaster because this was my first smut and honestly i felt like it was really bad at times but other times i was like wtf this is so hot,, ANYWAYS, i’m glad that i’m posting it and getting over that fear of imperfection. i hope that you guys enjoy this piece :). i would also like to add that please don’t hook up with your teachers… if you do, that’s on you i take no responsibility for that whatsoever lol. excuse the title i literally have no idea what to change it to but i like it the way it is tbh LMFAOOO OK I’LL STOP RAMBLING NOW BYEEE ILY ALL

University has never been when you’ve expected. When you first graduated high school and came here, you expected your late teenage years to be filled with just as much studying as high school combined with only a few parties here and there. You didn’t expect to make as many friends as you did and certainly did not expect to be known as the girl with the high grades and even higher alcohol tolerance. No longer are you the shy Y/N L/N that walked through the entrance gates on the first day of school; you’ve changed a lot.

It was a surprise to you. With academics taking precedence much of your life, the freedom university provided you with was welcomed - perhaps a little too much. You quickly learned that polar bear shots were great to keep you in a good mood at parties and that eating mangoes before smoking gave you a better high. And, you also learned about sex.

Admittedly, the first time you had a hookup, it was awkward and messy (at least for you… it was a guy, what else were you expecting?) but with more practice, you were able to get the hang of it. You’ve found your tastes and now willingly talk about who catches your eye to your best friends, something you never thought you’d do last year.

Speaking of who catches your eye, as of now it’s Park Jimin. A really hot guy, according to your friends, and according to you, an even better voice. When you first walked into your Applications of Economics class, you nearly spit out your Starbucks drink after you saw the astonishingly handsome man with silky black hair in a dress shirt and tie. Surprisingly formal for a university student, you thought, but you weren’t one to talk, considering your current outfit of business casual.

Only, he wasn’t a student. He was your teacher. You should’ve put the pieces together earlier but you didn’t. Let's just say a Coconut Lime Refresher is good for hangovers, and you needed one desperately (basically, you were drunk as hell the night before and were still in the process of recovering). It certainly didn’t take long before all of campus was talking about the new economics professor who was hotter than hell. Girls (and some guys) immediately tried transferring into his class, one of them being your best friend Lisa, just to get a glimpse of how attractive he was. You remember a couple of girls offering you literal cash to transfer out, but you didn’t.

A good call, thinking about it now. You’ve gotten closer with Mr. Park, although it’s nothing too special yet, the two of you are on good terms and have even hugged before (you still get giddy thinking about it). Y/N from 2 years ago would be screaming her head off at how bold you’ve gotten, but now, you can’t bring yourself to care. Park Jimin is a hot guy, and you’re pretty hot too (if you must admit), so it would only be logical if the two of you could hook up. Unsurprisingly, you’ve lost your shame, nothing but thoughts of your teacher filling your mind in your spare time.

So here you are, another day of university, as monotonous as ever. The only highlight of your day will be the morning, where you have a class with Mr. Park. You've started changing your style a bit recently, opting for more, let’s just leave it at provocative outfits. Walking into the room, you take your usual seat in the front, closest to Mr. Park’s desk.

The class progresses like it normally does, starting with a review of the work from the last class and a discussion about the new material. "I’m going to give you guys this last half hour of class to review the material individually if you want or you can leave early, I don’t mind. I know it's a Friday so there’s gonna be some parties around campus, if you want to prepare yourselves for that then go ahead." Your professor glances around the room, smirking at you when mentioning the parties. You flush and look away, biting your lower lip.

You make the decision to stay in the classroom while the majority of the other students file out of the room. "I'll be available for any questions," Jimin calls out, returning to his desk across from you.

Sticking to your reputation, you get a head start on the assignment and easily work through the homework. Surprisingly, you forget about Jimin for the time being, focused on finishing your assignment so that you have as little work as possible to do after classes. You don’t notice your teacher looking at you, admiring the way you put so much effort into the things you’re passionate about. Hearing a student call his name, he gets up to help him.

Surprisingly, Mr. Park has assigned a disturbingly low amount of homework, probably because of the upcoming weekend and maybe a pop quiz later next week (ugh). You’ve finished your work in a mere twenty minutes and are surprised to find that Jimin is not at his desk when you look up from your laptop. You turn around, looking for him, and see that he’s helping another student. Whipping out your phone, you text your best friend Lisa (who just so conveniently, also thirsts over Jimin the same way you do).

to lisa: hey i finished classwork for mr park and have like 10 minutes of free time now lol

Instantly, she responds as if she wasn’t in class. Then again, she has never been one to pay too much attention to her professors.

from lisa: ayo talk to him

from lisa: also save me from bio i literally cannot

Smiling slightly, you respond to her.

to lisa: i WOULD but he’s helping other students

from lisa: then be like "m- mister park, i- need help please" and use puppy eyes

to lisa: LMFAOO PLEASE he’d be like whats wrong with you since when did you struggle in this class

to lisa: but i mean, anything to hear him talk i guess

from lisa: god i'm so jealous you have him early so you can hear his morning voice it must be hot asf

to lisa: it is omg

from lisa: god what if he moans like that it'd be such a turn on

to lisa: dUDE STOP NO the way this is literally true like if he has a good sip of coffee or a pastry he likes hes gonna go all "mmmm I wish you could try this" pls its so fking hot

to lisa: like SIR I WANNA TRY YOU or you to try me no complaints

from lisa: wtf he finishes his breakfast before my class so i can't even hear it tf I hate it here

to lisa: u have him right after my block bro at leAST you have him

to lisa: what ab the people who don't even have him

from lisa: idk what i'd do honestly. imagine not having a literal sex god teaching you every day i pity those who dont

You’re about to type out a response when a smooth voice sounds out from behind you, "alright guys, you’re good to go. Have a good weekend!" You jump in your seat, not realizing that your teacher was helping the student right behind you for the past five minutes.

As the rest of the class begins to pack up, you pray that he hasn’t seen you talking about your sexual fantasies less than five feet away from him. Mr. Park doesn’t say anything, so you must be in the clear, right? You’re hoping and praying that he didn’t find out, but your heart rate is already rising and you’re getting a sick feeling in your stomach. Your gut must be trying to tell you something.

Well, your gut’s telling you that the universe must not be on your side because as soon as you stand up, he says, "Ms. L/N, can you stay a bit after class? I have a few things I want to discuss with you." Cheeks flushing hot, you squeak out a "yes, sir."

When everyone has left and it’s just the two of you left in the room, Jimin pulls up a seat next to his desk. "Sit," he commands, leaning on his desk. You scramble to your feet and walk over, mind buzzing with thoughts. Oh god, what if he tells the administration department? Then you’d definitely be punished and maybe even kicked out of the school. Maybe you could make up a story? Oh, it’s ANOTHER Park Jimin, haha. Definitely NOT my teacher. Even if you did, they could go the rest of the texts between you and Lisa and you’d be screwed. And not to be petty or anything, but being kicked out would mean that you wouldn’t be able to be in Jimin’s class anymore and wouldn’t be able to see him. Oh, and the bigger problem would be that you’d also be unable to get your degree.

You start internally panicking, heart rate picking up even when your teacher rolls up his sleeves and leans down in front of you. Stop thinking about dirty things FOR ONCE, Y/N, half of you screams, while the other half of you has already started fantasizing about things which shouldn’t be thought about, especially with one of the people in the fantasies less than a couple of feet in front of you. With his hands on his thighs, the ones you’ve thought about riding far too often, he smirks.

"So, I heard you wanna try me?"

You gulp, absolutely mortified that Jimin caught you. Yes, he was attractive, and you would do practically anything to fuck him, but you didn’t expect to be humiliated into admitting it. "Um, no sir! I mean, maybe, but not in the way you think!" you ramble. Shut up, Y/N, part of you screams. You’re only digging yourself into a deeper hole.

"Yeah, sure. Because I definitely didn’t see what you were talking about with your friend. Be honest, Y/N," he says, smirking down at you. "You think about me, don't you? I'm not new to this. I see the way girls like you look at me. I know the way they talk about me when they think I can't hear. I know the way you think. Who would've thought? Little Miss L/N, all prim and proper on the outside, would be so filthy deep down?"

"Sir, I- uh. I-" you stutter out, cheeks burning furiously hot.

"You what? You're not going to try to prove your innocence now, are you? Not when you've gotten this far, hm? Getting to do what you’ve wanted after all this time?" he asks, standing up from his desk, and walking over to you, kneeling in front of you so that you were forced to hold eye contact.

"You know, nobody else has been as daring as you, my dear," he hums softly. "Sending promiscuous texts about their teacher in the very class they're in. Rubbing their thighs together every time their teacher catches their eye." You shift in your seat, Jimin's words sparking the slightest of fires in your core. "Gazing ever so obviously at said teacher’s dick, too. Y/N, you amaze me. So, so brilliant. yet so, so naughty. You thought that nobody else would catch onto you? Unfortunately, you thought wrong."

"I'm s- sorry sir," you whisper out.

"You're just sorry that you got caught, Y/N. You'll keep doing this even after today," Jimin chuckles lowly. "Possibly even more after today," he adds on, taking note of how his words have affected you. Your pupils are dilated and your cheeks are starting to get flushed. "Such a dirty girl. I'm here trying to scold you, and here you are, getting turned on by my words. Is this why you ask so many questions, doll? To hear my voice?"

You bite your lip in a mixture of embarrassment and nervousness, nodding imperceptibly. The logical, studious side of you is thinking, oh my god, is this really happening? Am I going to fuck my teacher? I really shouldn’t be doing this. The relaxed, easygoing side of you (pretty much your horny side) is thinking, finally, it’s happening. I’m going to FINALLY be fucking Park Jimin.

"What else have you imagined about my voice, hm? How I'd whisper into your ear while pounding into you? Hear me moan as your tight cunt clenches around my dick? Tell you how good you're making me feel? Reminding you how much of a slut you are to fuck your teacher in the middle of his classroom, where anyone could walk in?" he continues, seeing you shift in your seat more. "Would you like that?" he asks.

"Y- yes Mr. Park. I- I would," you whisper. You have to consciously clench your thighs together to keep them from spreading at his words.

"Hm, I don't believe you. Try again another time, darling," he sighs, leaning back on his knees, getting ready to stand up. You don't want this, whatever it is, to be over that quickly so you make up your mind. Swallowing your pride and succumbing to the dull throb in your panties, you pout.

"But professor, I really do want you. I want you to make me feel good and I wanna make you feel good. Please," you whine out. "I wanna be thinking about you all the time because you fucked me so well in class. And when my friends talk about wanting to get in your pants, I want to be the only one who already has. Please, Mr. Park. I need you." you breathe out. At this point, the pressure in your core is rising steadily, and only intensifies when you see the way your teacher's eyes are glazed over in lust and eyebrows are furrowed. Your eyes travel down the expanse of his face to his lips, plump and pink. Oh, the number of times you've wished to kiss them, imagined them suckling on your clit. And now that Jimin knows, perhaps it's finally coming true.

"You'd like that, hm? God, you're so dirty," Jimin mutters, inching closer to you, cautiously placing a hand on your knee. Your legs instantly part to make room for him in between and he inches forward. "Does dirty talk really turn you on that much, Y/N? I can smell you through your panties," he remarks.

"Mr. Park, please do something," you whimper. And with that, Jimin pulls you over to his desk and sits you on the edge. You spread your legs and he stands in between them. He leans his head closer to you until he's next to your ear.

"Want me to get you off with my words? You seem to like that already and I haven't even tried, doll. Or perhaps," he pauses, bunching up your skirt so that it pools at your waist. "You want me to touch you?"

You nod eagerly, chest heaving in anticipation. "I want both Mr. Park. I want you," you purr salaciously. And with that, your teacher lets out a low growl and presses his lips onto yours harshly. It’s already bruising, but you just can’t get enough of the way he tastes of caramel and coffee and how ridiculously soft his lips are, so you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in even closer. He seems a little put off by how eager you are, but once he hears you sigh in enjoyment, he melts into your eager grasp.

His hands start sliding down your waist so that they are resting on your upper thighs, and he rubs comforting circles into them, trailing them closer and closer to your panties. He breaks off from the kiss to look down and smirks back at you before joining his lips to yours with even more fervor and you praise yourself for deciding to wear your lace thong today. You feel his tongue slide against your lips, asking for permission to enter and your mouth immediately complies.

The feeling of his hot breath on your lips and thumbs rubbing against the juncture of your thighs has you feeling needy for more. Jimin swirls the tip of his tongue against yours, the filthy action turning you on even more. You moan into his mouth and thread your fingers through his hair, causing him to let out a low groan.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the two of you break apart. Chest heaving up and down, you take note of your teacher's face. His lips are redder and plumper than ever before. His cheeks have the faintest blush on them. His eyes, the ones that crinkle into a happy smile whenever you answer a question correctly in class, are now clouded over with deep lust.

"Get onto all fours. On the desk," Jimin commands, and you immediately comply. Now your ass is facing Jimin and you're very nearly completely exposed to him, save the thong you're wearing.

"God, you're such a slut," Jimin moans out at the sight. "Do you get dressed up like this just so you can get fucked in class? Such a short fucking skirt that I can see whatever you're wearing underneath whenever you bend over, hm? You wanted me to give in to you, doll?" When you nod weakly, he chuckles, "I don't think so."

Arching your back so your ass sticks out even more, you whine, "professor, please fuck me. I'm so fucking horny, please." Jimin cups your pussy from outside your panties and leans over you, "I don't think so, kitten. I'm the one calling the shots here." Your pussy flutters in response and Jimin slaps it lightly, chuckling. The brief stimulation has your cunt clenching around nothing.

He spreads your knees slightly and begins trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses up your thighs to the arch of your back. Feeling his breath so close to your core has you getting wetter by the minute in anticipation. He finally hovers over your back, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, muttering, "I'm going to wreck you, Y/N", and you feel yourself clench in excitement.

"Then do it," you whisper, and Jimin hooks his fingers around the waistband of your thong and pulls it down, so slow that it's almost painful, exposing your heat to the cool air of the classroom and causing you to shiver in response.

You don't see it, but his eyes widen seeing the strings of your slick connecting your pussy to your panties. He takes a look at your core and his mouth starts watering. You're soaking and clenching around nothing, thighs shaking ever so slightly in anticipation.

He flattens his tongue and licks a flat stripe up your pussy, from your clit to your entrance. He pauses to suck some of your juices from it, but your cunt just keeps leaking them out. He runs his tongues through your folds over and over again until you let out a wanton moan.

Encouraged by your reaction, he hooks his arms around the side of your hips, nuzzling closer into your pussy. He laps at your cunt and purposely avoids your clit, only heightening the pressure in your core.

"Mr. Park," you whine out, pushing your hips back. "Please. More," you pant out. Suddenly, Jimin spanks your right ass cheek, rubbing his hand over the fleshy globe soothingly afterward. You let out a little yelp and turn around to catch his eyes.

"More what?" he spits out, smiling at you evilly. "My little slut's gotta tell me what she wants. How else would I give it to her?" your mind is foggy, pleasure causing you to lose track of everything other than the man behind you. "W- want you," you garble out, "t- to play with my clit too."

"What's the magic word, doll?" Jimin teases, breath fanning over your slit, causing your walls to clench erratically. "Please, Mr. Park," you whine, pushing your cunt closer to his face. He smirks at you, avoiding your advances.

"Good girl," he praises before finally positioning himself just barely in front of your clit. You feel him blow cool air onto your slit, but the temperature of it is magnified even more due to how wet you are. You whine out, expressing your displeasure, and Jimin finally indulges you by taking your throbbing button between his plush lips.

"F- fuck, sir, yes! Right there, please," you squeal, back arching even more. Jimin hums, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through your body. You can feel yourself growing wetter, your entrance squeezing out more and more of your arousal down to where Jimin's lips are sucking. He momentarily pauses to flatten his tongue out, letting your juices drip onto them and slurping them up eagerly. The obscene noises behind you combined with the low thrum of student life just outside the classroom door mesh together to have you realize where exactly the two of you are doing this.

You glance at the clock, and your eyes widen. "Prof- oh my god, Pr- Professor Park," you moan out, trying to keep your focus. Jimin again hums, making you jolt in pleasure. "I- uh, there’s only ten minutes until the next block of classes start. I need t- to leave in around five." When Jimin releases from you with a pop, you can feel your slick running down your thighs and some dripping onto his desk. You feel a rush of excitement at the thought of everyone walking in during class to see the mess Jimin made of you on his desk and again squeeze around nothing.

"Well then," Jimin hums lazily, "guess you better cum within five minutes if you want to cum at all." He dives back into your heat, tongue skillfully running through your folds. He cycles between kitten licking and delivering harsh sucks to your clit and dipping his tongue into your entrance. You grind against his face in desperation to reach your release, and just when you finally feel it hurtling towards you at an alarming rate, suddenly, Jimin gets up.

He leans over you, trailing a hand up your slick-ridden thigh to cup your bare heat and mutters lowly in your ear, "time’s up." Your heart drops in frustration, and you whine out. Grinding into his palm, you beg for him to touch you once again, knowing nothing but how good he was making you feel just seconds ago. "Mr. P- Park, please. Make me cum," you cry out.

Jimin spanks your pussy, a wet echo sounding through the room. You jolt forward and your cunt leaks out even more of your arousal in response to the combination of pain and pleasure. "I said no," he hisses, "you couldn't cum in time, you don't deserve to cum."

"God, look at you, you're a mess. Bent over and spread out so desperately for me. You taste so sweet, doll. So responsive, too," Jimin murmurs, lazily rubbing your slit. He's, once again, avoiding your clit and driving you insane. Your sensitive nub is now swollen and throbbing with need, slick with your arousal.

"Has anyone touched you as well as I do, Y/N?" he asks. When you shake your head, he slaps your cunt again, another wet sound echoing through the room. "Words, baby girl," he goads, fingers dancing through your folds.

"N- no, sir. they can’t make me feel half as good as you did. I’ve al- I’ve always been thinking about having you touch m- my cunt and making me cum really hard. and I- shit I’m so needy sir, I wanna cum," you garble out, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You feel Jimin’s hand leave your pussy, exposing your soaked heat to the cool air of the room. Slowly, he pulls your thong up your thighs and the light touches make you clench in desperation and whine out.

He marvels at the sight of you so fucked out in front of him. The way his top student was falling apart at the slightest touches he gave you. And the words you said. God, to have you say such filthy things in comparison to your gentle demeanor, all because of him, it really did something to him.

Jimin finishes clothing you and presses a kiss to the top of your ass and walks across the room to get some tissues to clean up the mess you made. Still perched on the desk, you watch him needily, thighs rubbing together to relieve some of the pressure from being denied your orgasm. "So I really don’t get to cum?" You ask meekly, holding back a sob. "I need to cum, Mr. Park."

He chuckles, "there’s a difference between need and want, doll. You want to cum, you don't need to cum. But what you do need," he returns to you, leaning down so that his face is right in front of yours, "is to get to your next class." Your face, once eagerly lit up in anticipation, has now fallen in disappointment.

Rolling your eyes, you huff out a "fine" and get off his desk, feeling your arousal make your thighs stick together. Your panties are uncomfortably damp and you’re so wet you can even smell yourself. "Can you make me cum later?" you question Jimin, sliding closer to him and playing with his tie, praying that he’ll be the one to make you release instead of having to do it yourself when you get home.

"If you play nice I might. If not, then… we’ll see," he hums, handing you a tissue to clean yourself up while heading to wipe down his desk. "I have a lunch meeting in the second half of the lunch block, so if you really need me, I’ll be here before then."

You grin and nod in excitement. "Cool! so I’ll-" you begin before the first students from the next class start filing in, making you jump. "The door wasn’t locked?" you whisper frantically to him. "We could have been caught, Jimin! Are you crazy?!"

He smirks at you, "didn’t you say you wanted it that way? Where anyone could walk in? I only did what you asked, doll." You’re left speechless as he continues. "Anyways, you should be in your next class pretty soon. I’ll write a note to your professor just in case you’re late. But get going, yeah? I’ll see you in time for our meeting." He hands you a slip of paper and straightens up, tossing the dirty tissues into the trash can in the corner of the room.

"Okay class, we’re going to get started soon. I presume you all did the reading, so just prepare for the discussion we’re going to be having about it when the bell rings," he calls out to the class. Turning to face you, he questions quietly with genuine concern, "you okay? Did I push you too much for our first time?"

Your mind swirls with thoughts. Our first time. The words fill you with giddy excitement. It’s just the two of you that know about this, the dirty things you were doing just minutes ago, very nearly getting caught. Knowing that this won’t be the only moment you guys are doing this, fills you with excitement.

"On the contrary, actually," you tease your teacher with a smile. "It was really nice honestly, but perhaps, you didn’t do enough." You bite your lip at the way Jimin's eyes darken and he looks away. "Get to class, Ms. L/N. The bell will ring any minute," he says lowly, jaw slightly clenched. Your core throbs at the sight and you head towards the door.

"Goodbye, Mr. Park. Thank you!" you call out, catching sight of Lisa, who raises her eyebrows at you teasingly and mouths text me. Blushing, you nod at her before leaving the room to go to your next class.

Being "one of the smartest students on campus" comes with its perks. Like right now, for example. You always (somehow) come to class overprepared, so when your next teacher gives you a day to work on your project (which you've already finished), you head to the back of the room to text Lisa in private.

from lisa: dude wtf was that you were literally talking to Mr. Park outside of ur class time with him

from lisa: omg wait don't tell me you fucked him

from lisa: did you

to lisa: NO I DID NOT OMG I wish tho lmao

to lisa: I was asking him for help on the paper he's assigning us and to proofread it and stuff before I submit it

from lisa: omg I forgot he assigned us that shit

to lisa: dude lmao its due in a week or so you have plenty of time

from lisa: ugh literally he's such a hottie why does he have to be so into teaching

to lisa: sis commitment to something is hot

from lisa: omg ur right wait a sec tho

from lisa: dude

from lisa: omg

from lisa: he definitely has a boner

Knowing that you were likely the cause of it, you shift in your seat cockily, smiling slyly to yourself while looking down.

to lisa: whAT

to lisa: wait how big is it

from lisa: ok I dont think he’s fully hard yet he's like semi hard but barely

from lisa: LMFAO Y/N don't worry I think he’s packing seems kinda thick too

Taking in a deep breath, you look up at the ceiling. You imagine him slowly sinking into you and making you whimper at his size. Him seeing your face and growling, "if you’re really a good girl, you should be able to take it." You cross your legs tightly and rock up and down in a lame attempt to diminish the rising pressure between your thighs and look back down at your phone.

to lisa: pls thats so hot

from lisa: IKR I want him to r a i l me

to lisa: or eat me out… have you sEEN those lips of his wtf

from lisa: on god do not get me started

to lisa: pls i bet he’d be the type to tease you

Oh Lisa, if only you knew the truth behind those words.

from lisa: YES hes lowkey cocky bc he knows like the entire fucking population simps for him

from lisa: he’s def gonna make you beg to cum

to lisa: pls thats hot do not get me riled up in class istg

from lisa: too late i've already started babe ;)

You continue texting Lisa throughout the entirety of your class. Finally, you look at the clock and seeing that there are only a few more minutes till the class ends, you wrap up your conversation with her.

to lisa: hey btw i’m gonna be coming to lunch late… save me a seat at our regular spot?

from lisa: when ur best friend is a teachers pet :(( fiNE I guess I will

to lisa: love u!! xx

from lisa: love you too nerd xoxo

The bell finally rings, signaling the start of the lunch break and you immediately stand up and walk out the door, bidding your teacher goodbye and thanks.

Running into the bathroom, you do a quick check of your appearance. You tug up your skirt a bit higher and tuck in your shirt so that your outfit accentuates your curves. You glance at your face and notice how abnormally large your pupils are in comparison to most days. Jimin has completely ruined you today, just like he said he would. I'm going to wreck you, Y/N. His words echo in your ears as you make your way out to his classroom. Trying to ignore how uncomfortably wet your panties are, you knock on the door to his room.

You hear a smooth voice answer with a, "come in," and take a deep breath before opening the door to see Jimin sitting behind his desk, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head. He scans you up and down, eyes taking in every inch of your figure. "Nice outfit alterations," he notes, patting his laps as a hint for you to sit on it. You quickly lock the door and make your way to him, placing one leg on each side of him so that you’re now straddling his thighs. "Is this all for me?" he asks and you tuck your head down, suddenly shy now that all his attention is on you again.

"Mhm, depends on whether you like it or not" you smile timidly, hands reaching out to play with his tie again. He laughs. "Princess, I’m conflicted. You do look very nice, all dolled up for me like this. It’d be a shame if I were to ruin your efforts. But on the other hand," he remarks, "you’ve very nearly crossed the line for indecent exposure. What if another teacher caught you like this? you would get in trouble, hm? And what if it were a student to see you like this? What would they think of you then?" He questions, causing your cheeks to burn at his words.

"They would think I- that I’m a whore. I- and that I dress up like this just so I can pass my classes," you whisper out, biting your lips in a combination of excitement and humiliation. You can feel yourself start to throb again and you start to rut against Jimin’s thighs. He shifts you over so that you are sitting on only one and slightly bounces his leg. The stimulation to your neglected cunt sends a shock running through your body and you squeeze your thighs around his.

"Look at you, so fucking desperate to cum. You think that you aren’t a little whore already, so needy for me this quickly, hm? Do you really think you deserve to cum?" He hums, admiring the way you’re worked up. He pushes up your skirt and slaps your thigh just underneath your ass. You shift away as a reaction, causing your clit to get the stimulation it finally deserved. The way your underwear rubs against your neglected bundle of nerves causes you to let out a groan and drop your head to Jimin's shoulder. He spanks you this time, making you yelp. "I asked you a question, doll."

"Mmhm, yeah," you whine out, "I deserve t- to cum, sir." At this point, your hips are moving on their own accord, shifting back and forth desperately against Jimin's thigh. He grabs your waist tightly, holding you still. "Look at me," he commands, bouncing his thigh. You mewl into his shoulder, the change in motion making you lose focus. He spanks you again, the sound echoing around the room. "Listen to directions, sweetheart. Or else you’ll get punished," he warns.

You lift your head to look at Jimin, faces just inches apart. His eyes scan over your face, lingering on your lips. Slowly, you lean towards him, closing the distance between you two. He gives into your eager kiss and you glide your hands up his firm chest to run your fingers through his hair. He starts bouncing you on his thigh and you groan into his mouth. Breaking apart panting, you place your forehead against Jimin’s, moving your hips back and forth harder to increase the pressure going to your clit.

"God, Y/N, you’re so wet," Jimin pants while looking down at the way your clothed pussy drags over his thigh. "I can feel you soaking through my slacks," he says, shifting you over. just like he said, there is now a wet spot on his thigh from where you just were. Thankfully, it’s barely noticeable, but if you focus enough, you can see it.

"What are you going to do about it, hm? I have classes to teach, meetings to attend. Do you want people to see the mess you made all over me?" He hisses, spanking you to elicit an answer. "N- no, sir. I’m s- sorry," you whisper out, eyes clenched, still rutting against him. You feel your orgasm bubbling up as every second passes.

"I don't think you're sorry, doll. Look at you making a mess all over me through your panties. You're absolutely soaked, so fucking desperate to cum," he tuts, clenching his thigh muscles purposely. You gasp and shove your head into the crook of Jimin's neck, letting out a low groan.

"Mr. Park, I'm so wet because of you. I- god, I wanna cum. please. I'm so close," you mewl into him, legs starting to tighten around his thigh.

You shut your eyes, feeling your impending orgasm build up. Right when you're about to let go, Jimin holds your hips in place tightly, preventing you from moving. Squeaking out, you make an attempt to shift your pussy over his thighs. It's no use because you can feel it start to drift away slowly and you look at him in need. Tears stinging the corners of your eyes, you plead, "S- sir I need you to touch me again. Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Jimin smiles cockily, lifting you onto his desk and spreading your legs after stripping you of your panties. You lean back so that you face the ceiling. Your eyes roll back once you feel him take your clit into his mouth. You moan and arch your back off of the desk, thighs involuntarily clenching around his head.

"God, Mr. Park, yes! O- oh, fuck, please," you blabber out incoherently, your mind hazy and overwhelmed with pleasure. "More," you whimper out without thinking.

Jimin disconnects from your heat to look up at you, murmuring, "Greedy little slut wants it all, huh? Won't even ask nicely for it. Tell me what you want, Y/N. Beg for it, and I might just give it to you."

"God, I- I want it all, professor," you call out, wiggling your hips in search of stimulation that never comes. "Want you to stuff me with your f- fingers and lick my p- pussy and make me cum. Want you to fuck me r- raw with your fat cock from behind and sp- and spank me. Want you to ma- make me cry from cumming so hard just as much as you have from not letting me cum. A- and I want you to leave hi- hickies on my thighs so that if I bend over, p- people are gonna know how much of a cockslut I am, just for you."

"Yeah? Well, I can tell you this," Jimin says, fingers dancing up your thigh closer to your sick-ridden core. "You are a cockslut. So fucking dirty. Most people come to class to learn but it seems that you come here to get off." He inserts a finger into you and your walls immediately clamp down on it. He moves the digit in and out of you smoothly, your arousal allowing the smoothest of motions. "You like that, baby? Finally having something in that tight cunt of yours?" You nod at his question, adding on "want more, sir."

"Not enough? Greedy little bitch. look at you, so needy. What are you gonna do when I have my cock out, hm?" He shoves a second finger into you and starts curling them into your heat. You arch your back to the ceiling and he hovers over you. For a moment, there’s nothing but the squelch of his fingers in your wet pussy and your panting as he stares into your eyes. Jimin's eyebrows are furrowed and he’s biting his lip - he’s focusing on something.

That "something" becomes apparent when, all of a sudden, you nearly sit upright and let out a loud moan of pleasure, "Fuck, Mr. Park! right there." His fingers continue rubbing that special spot inside you repeatedly and your legs start shaking ever so slightly. You look back at him to see a smug smile on his face. "I found it," he chuckles as you writhe underneath him. He leans down to kiss you, lips melding together.

He keeps fingering you, bringing his thumb up to ghost over your clit ever so slightly to provide enough pleasure to bring you close to your orgasm but just not enough to make you cum. You whine against his lips and he breaks the kiss, asking "you want to cum, doll?" to which you weakly nod. "Then fuck yourself on my fingers. Show me how much of a little slut you are for me. How you’re a cocksleeve for me, so wet and needy as soon as I touch you, so ready for me to fuck you." He stills his digits inside of you and you buck your hips on them, rolling your pelvis repeatedly in an attempt to get to your orgasm. You reach down to provide some stimulation to your clit, but he smacks it away.

"Jim- professor, it’s not enough. I- I need more, please." Tears start welling up in your eyes at the thought of not cumming for the third time. Jimin kisses your temple, the gentle action reminding you that he’s not going to do something you can’t handle. "Please, Mr. Park. I wanna cum," you whine out, hips jerking back and forth in a pathetic attempt to chase after your high.

"Show me then, Y/N. how much you want it. A good girl can show me that she wants it bad enough and will make herself come on my fingers alone. She’s not greedy. She doesn’t need to touch herself too. She just needs my fingers to cum. I know you can be a good girl, Y/N," he goads. "Can you show me what the pretty little face of yours looks like when you cum? I bet you’ll look so beautiful, even more than you are right now, all fucked out for me."

"Hhngh, sir I- I’m trying," you pant out. "It’s just not enough. I promise I'm a good girl, I swear. Please let me cum. Oh god, I wanna cum." At this point, you’re nearly crying. You haven't ever been edged like this and are desperate for release.

Jimin sees this and purposefully retracts his hand from your cunt covered in your honeyed juices, glistening in the lights of his classroom. "Professor Park, please," you choke out weakly, chest constricting in disappointment. With a soft smile, he brings his fingers up to his mouth and cleans them off, savoring the flavor of you.

"Be a good girl for the rest of the day and then I’ll let you cum, baby," he hums. "You promise?" you plead, holding onto his arm desperately.

"I promise, Y/N," he kisses you gently and you taste the remnants of yourself on his tongue, the filthy action causing your clit to throb even more. Combined with the way your cunt is still clenched tight in preparation for an orgasm that won’t come soon, you can definitely say that you can't wait for the school day to come to an end.

"Go to lunch, doll. I have a meeting soon. Don’t think of me too much, hm? Gotta keep those straight A’s the way they are," Jimin teases, pulling down your skirt slowly, fingers just grazing your thighs. He grabs your panties. "Oh, and I think I'll keep these for now," he says cheekily, putting them in his pocket. "They didn’t seem to be doing their job when you were riding my thigh."

You watch him in shock, cheeks flushing red hot. "I- okay. uh, I’m going to lunch now, Jimin. Have a good lunch and meeting, I guess?" you say awkwardly, shuffling to the door with him, tugging your skirt down.

"Jimin? We’re on a first-name basis already, Y/N? Don’t let anybody hear you call me that in class, baby," he winks, holding the door open and you nod, preoccupied with the little "situation" your skirt just barely hides. You can feel yourself still leaking down your inner thighs, and pray that nobody’s going to notice when you walk into the dining hall.

"Ugh! Bitch, what took you so long?" Lisa exclaims when you sit down next to her with your lunch. You pout. "I wasn't even gone for that long."

"Ha! That long, my ass. You were gone for more than half of the break! I had to tell Jaebum and his cronies to fuck off on my own! I’m not as intimidating when you’re not around, though, so I don’t think it worked. They’ll probably come over again soon." Lisa rolls her eyes. You snort, "One of them probably likes you, that’s why they keep bothering you."

"They just like any female and will take what they can get," Lisa mutters, "but anyway! How was your meeting with Mr. Park? Did you solve his boner problem?" she wiggles her eyebrows.

You clear your throat. "No, Lisa I did not. I'm obviously above that," you say in a sarcastic tone. "I simply offered to," you tease. Lisa squeals and slaps your arm in response. "But for real though," she says. "Anyone that gets to hook up with mister Park Jimin automatically wins at life," and you hum in agreement.

You scan at the dining hall around you and catch the eye of Jaebum sitting with his friend group. He winks at you and you roll your eyes and stand up, "come on Lisa, let’s go. Those assholes are going to come over any second if we stay here any longer." You drag her to your guys’ next class.

The bell rings and the two of you burst out of the classroom. Thank god that’s over. Only one more class left, you think to yourself, gripping your books tighter to your chest in excitement.

"Jesus fuck, since when were you this eager to get to the last class of the day, Y/N? I thought you loved staying in school for as long as possible," Lisa huffs out. You steer her into the direction of your locker, right across from Jimin’s classroom.

"I'm picking up my books, you dummy. Be grateful I paid for this locker because otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to put your books here." You put in the code and exchange your books while Lisa checks herself in the magnetic mirror attached to the door. you have to be careful when bending over because otherwise you’ll flash the entire school, so you do a weird sit-squat thing. "Geeking out over lockers? You act as if you’re still in high school, Y/N," Lisa teases. "Only during the school day," you wink up at her.

Lisa spots someone through the reflection of the mirror and groans out. "Incoming," she warns, rolling her eyes and turning around. "Wha-" you begin when you get cut off by a smooth voice behind you.

"Damn, L/N. didn’t know you wore skirts this short on campus. Looks good on you," the guy winks. "But it would look even better on my bedroom floor." You hold back a gag and turn to Lisa, raising your eyebrows in exasperation.

"Wow, I see the originality," Lisa says in the most sickeningly sweet voice. "What do you want, Jaebum?" He chuckles and places an arm over your head, leaning over you. "Well, I’m having a party tonight, and it would be amazing if you two little ladies could attend. Be mine and Jackson’s plus one?" he says. You’re about to say no when he leans in closer to you, inches away from your face, "plus you can get the high-quality drinks for free, not the cheap booze we leave out for the randos who show up."

"You’re probably gonna drug them or something. No thanks, dickwad." you huff out after a second’s hesitation, pushing him away, ready to go to your next class. "Nah, baby. I may be a fuckboy but at least I've got morals. Whaddya say? You get me off, I get you off? Maybe make you cum so many times it starts hurting? You look like you haven’t been able to get an orgasm in a while, you’re so uptight, L/N," Jaebum smirks.

"You fuckin-" you start to hiss out but you’re shut off again. This time it’s by someone different. Jimin. "Mr. Lim, I don’t think it’s necessarily appropriate to discuss your sexual endeavors while in an academic setting. I’ll be letting you off with a warning for now." He turns to you, eyes flitting across your DIY skimpy outfit. You feel your cunt leak more of your honeyed juices under his piercing gaze and clamp your thighs together to keep them from dripping down your thighs. "And Ms. L/N, I expected better from you. You’re not typically one to do these things in a school environment. Get to class, the two of you," he says, turning back to his classroom.

"Oh," he adds, "and Y/N. fix your outfit. I would hate to see you get dress coded by a teacher who isn’t as lenient." You, Lisa, and Jaebum stare at his back in shock as he heads inside his classroom.

"Well, uh, that just happened," Lisa states, turning to you. "Ready to go?" you nod numbly, mind swirling with embarrassment and excitement as you tug down your skirt. The two of you walk to the last class of the day while Jaebum calls out, "my place after 11, L/N! I’ll be waiting!", making you wince. Great, now a bunch of people are gonna think you’re hooking up with him.

The last bell of the day finally rings, and you head to your locker after bidding Lisa goodbye. You put your books in your locker and head to the bathroom to fix your clothes. You decide to tease Jimin even more by adjusting your skirt so that it ends just at the bottom of your ass. It’s a terribly risky decision; if you walk too fast, you risk flashing everyone. You’ve tried to wipe the slick off the juncture of your thighs, but it keeps getting replaced with more of your arousal.

You speed walk down the halls and fling open the door to see that Jimin isn’t in his classroom - or so you think. Once you take a few steps into the room, you hear the door shut behind you and lock. Jimin looks at you up and down. "You didn’t fix your outfit, Ms. L/N. Looks like I’ll have to dress code you for indecent exposure then," he hums, heading to his desk to take out a slip of paper.

"Wait Jimin, what? I thought we were- um. You know, going to-" you splutter out, realizing he was actually serious. You can’t have this on your academic record! What would your parents think?

"Going to what? Fuck? Seems like you already have someone else for that, Y/N," he shakes his head, grabbing a pen. You reach forward quickly to stop him, hand, gripping his forearm in desperation.

"No Mr. Park, I- I never told Jaebum yes. I just-" you try to explain, but Jimin cuts you off. "You what?" he asks bitingly, taking you by surprise. "Did you think that you could just come back and hop on my dick after nearly making out with another guy? God, you really are a slut, aren’t you?"

You rub your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the steadily mounting pressure in your core at Jimin’s words. "Look at you, I told you to fix your outfit and you fucking pulled up your skirt. You pulled it up. You don’t listen to me, talk to your friends about how much you want me to rail you, and yet let other guys make plans to hook up with you. And you expect me to let you cum after all of that?" he continues, noticing the effect he has on you. "You really think I should let you cum, Y/N? I'll tell you what I think. I think I should leave you like this, dripping and needy for me. So ready to get fucked by me but not being able to."

Your eyes widen, "no, please professor, no!"

"Should I jack off in front of you and not let you touch me? Maybe then would you learn your lesson? Or maybe I should spank your ass till it’s blue you’re unable to sit. Would that work, hm? What if I just send you back to the dorms? You could ask Jaebum to touch you, even if he can’t make you half the mess I can," he continues, pushing you onto his desk. He grabs your jaw and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him, humiliated, with tears in your eyes.

"Aw," he pouts sarcastically, "is the baby crying? Because I didn’t let her cum? Well, princess, you knew what you were getting yourself into. Little cocksluts like you don’t deserve to cum so easily."

"P- professor, please. You can punish me. Teach me a lesson. B- but just please let me cum." You whimper out, attempting to cross your legs together to assuage your aching clit, but Jimin stops you by holding your knee with his other hand.

He slowly trails his hands up your bare thigh, admiring the way your soft skin seems to get chills at his touch. He pushes you back onto the desk and you prop yourself up your elbows to look at him. "Are you a cockslut, Y/N?" he asks, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers.

"Y- yes Mr. Park. I- I’m nothing but a hole for you to fuck," you whimper meekly as he pushes up your skirt. He pushes apart your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the desk. "Damn right you are. Nothing but a little whore that I can use to get off. I’m going to fuck you here in school like you’ve never been fucked before. And this dick you’ve been thinking about all this time, it’s going to finally be in you, and I better not hear any complaints," Jimin growls, pumping his length in his hand. "No sir," you whimper out.

"You on the pill?" he asks, to which you reply with a yes. He teases your slit with the pink head of his cock and your entrance flutters at the touch. "But on another note, tell me if you want to stop. I don’t want to push you too much."

You smile, "Jimin, you’re being too kind. I promise I'll tell you. But I did say before perhaps you weren’t doing enough. Mr. Park, I want you to ruin me," you bite your lips, mimicking his words from earlier in the day. He cocks his head in amusement.

"Don’t worry princess, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing." Without warning, he thrusts forward into your heart, barely giving you time to adjust to his size. The girth of his cock stretches open your cunt with painful pleasure. Once he’s sheathed inside you, you can feel him very near your cervix.

You let out a shaky breath but it’s cut off as he continues thrusting in and out of you, wet slaps echoing through the room. "M- Mr. Park-" you moan incoherently.

"Fucking take it, Y/N. You wanted me to ruin you? Well here I am doing it; be fucking grateful." he rolls his hips into yours, hands gripping your sides harshly.

"Th- thank you Mr. Park, s- so much," you nearly sob out, almost crying at the relief of being fucked. You’re so turned on that your walls are clenching around Jimin’s dick so hard that he grips your jaw harshly. Gritting his teeth, he spits, "loosen up, babe. You’re so fuckin’ tight." You whine and try to relax but the stimulation Jimin’s providing has your eyes rolling back instead.

He snakes a hand down to your stomach and under your skirt, circling your throbbing clit. Your pussy flutters at the stimulation and you bite your lip harshly. He changes his angle slightly, causing your thighs to start shaking. His precum and your honeyed juices drip out your sopping cunt, the sound of wet slaps echoing around the room.

"Mmmmh," you moan out softly, back arching slightly. You can feel Jimin hitting your g-spot with impeccable accuracy each time. Doubled with the way his thumb is rubbing circles on your sensitive clit, you feel yourself reaching your orgasm. You try to suppress the giveaway signs of your impending release, knowing that Jimin, in order to "teach you a lesson" of sorts, is likely to take it away from you, so you attempt to just breathe out, "Jimin, fuck, it feels so good."

"Yeah, you like that, baby?" he thrusts into you deeper and harder and you bite your upper lip to stop your moans from slipping out. "Come on Y/N, let me hear those pretty little moans. Let everyone else know how well I'm fucking you, how good I make you feel," Jimin urges.

As soon as he utters those words, you give in, letting high pitched whimpers spill from your lips. Your pussy lets out filthy squelching noises at each of his thrusts, your wetness dripping down your ass and onto the desk. You feel your walls tightening around his cock and try to fight it off, but Jimin can already tell of your impending orgasm. He pulls out of you, leaving your warm and soaked cunt open to the air.

"Fuck," you exclaim in frustration, bringing your hands up to cover your face so Jimin doesn’t see your face, tears starting to spill down your face. It’s frustrating you so much that he won’t let you cum. That he enjoys seeing you whimpering and teary-eyed for him. Your thighs haven’t stopped shaking and Jimin parts them after you close them. He pulls down your arms and smiles evilly.

"Well, what do we have here," he exclaims, "looks like the baby finally did start crying. Come on, Y/N, I thought you had it in you. But look at how you’re spread out on this desk for me, such a fucking mess. I bet you like it, huh? Dirtying up my desk with that cunt of yours."

"I need to cum, Mr. Park," you choke out, trying to gather your thoughts. "I need to cum now." your teacher’s eyes narrow and he grips your thighs harshly. "What did you say to me?" he asks, a tone laced with dangerous amusement.

"You heard me. I-," you hesitate for a moment, but decide you’ve already put yourself through enough teasing today. You muster up your courage before saying, "I want you to make me cum now."

There’s a moment’s silence before you add on shamelessly, "o- or if it’s too much to ask of you, I- I’ll just find someone else to help me do it. Maybe Jaebum? He promised a good time a- and said he would let me cum as many times as I want."

Jimin grabs you by the chin and pulls you up. "You’re such a fucking brat, Y/N." Shifting his hand so it’s gripping your throat, he mutters, "you don’t fucking learn, do you? I thought you were smart, hm? But has the need for sex made you lose your sense? Made you turn into a dumb little bitch, ready to bend over for anyone because you’re so horny? And here I was thinking you were better than that. That you had standards. Perhaps I was wrong, hm? Would you like to tell me?"

You try to look down, away from his piercing glare, but he turns your chin to look back at him. Humiliation courses through your veins as Jimin’s gaze wanders down your body scathingly. "Look at you," he coos sarcastically. "Y/N, baby, you’re such a fucking mess. Pathetic." Suddenly, he lifts you off the desk and bends you over it, cheek pressing the top and ass exposed over the edge to him. You whimper at the feeling of your shirt being stickied from your arousal left on the table from just a few minutes ago. You try moving away from it, but Jimin holds you in place.

"Are you afraid that everyone else is going to see the mess on your shirt, Y/N? Is that why you’re trying to move?" he hovers over you from behind. "Or perhaps," he continues, hot breath tickling over the shell of your ear, "you want to continue being a brat. Make me punish you until you’re begging for me to make it stop."

He spanks you, the sound echoing across the room before you register the sting of his action. You clench involuntarily and let out the slightest of whimpers. "Fucking hell, are you this turned on? Making noises even if I don’t touch your filthy little pussy?" he asks, smacking your behind again. You bite down on your lip to avoid giving him the answer he already knows.

"Count for me. Be good and maybe I’ll finally let you cum." he commands, spanking your right ass cheek again. "O- one!" you groan. He spanks your left side, the stinging sensation causing you to leak more arousal. "Louder, Y/N. Let me hear you," he hisses, hand in your hair, and pulls you up slightly. "T- two," you stammer. another slap echoes across the room. "Three! God Mr. Park, please." At this point, you’re not even sure what you’re begging for; your mind is numb with lust.

"T- twenty! Agh, fuck, please," you squirm under Jimins grasp. The throbbing of your clit has increased tenfold, and you can practically feel the shaking of your thighs through the desk.

Jimin slips his hand between your legs, feeling the soft flesh of your inner thighs slicked with your juices. "You’re fucking dripping, Y/N. Look at you. Did getting punished turn you on this much, doll?" He swipes up your slit, teasing your fluttering hole. You scrunch your eyes in displeasure and try to back up into him, only to be stopped by a harsh smack onto your already throbbing cunt. You yelp and flop back on the desk, cheek pressing the surface.

You feel him rubbing his dick against your folds and sigh in relief. Suddenly, Jimin slams into you from behind with no warning causing you to let out a harsh groan. "Ah, professor!" you exclaim, balling your fists in pleasure at finally being stimulated. His cock seems even bigger from this angle, and your entrance stings delectably at the way he splits you open.

"You feel how tight your pussy is, princess? How tight it is for me? Nobody else makes you feel this needy. Nobody," Jimin mutters in your ear after pulling you up. He pulls your head back by your hair, exposing your neck, which he plants wet kisses on. He reaches down in front of you, tracing an achingly slow path from your stomach to your slit with his fingers. You’re reaching your orgasm at an embarrassingly fast rate due to all of the edging you’re been through, so when Jimin finally brushes over your clit, it’s no surprise that your walls tighten even more instantaneously.

"Ji- ‘m gonna cum," you moan wantonly. "Yeah? Is my little slut finally going to cum?" He hisses out at the way you tighten around him. You nod desperately, gripping his arm rubbing figure eights over your sensitive bud.

"Oh god, Jimin, I feel it coming. Please please please let me cum. I'm being good for you, Mr. Park, please let me cum," you sob out incoherently as Jimin continues railing you from behind. You feel the ridges of his cock brushing your walls and shudder at his ministrations.

"Let go, princess, I got you. Cum for me. Tell me how good I’m making you feel," Jimin snarls, snapping his hips into yours, eager to get you to finally melt in his arms. You feel your orgasm crashing over you and you clamp down on his dick, legs shaking in relief. Jimin's grip on your hair tightens as he feels you pulsing around him, getting impossibly tight. Nevertheless, he continues thrusting into you.

You mewl, trying to shift away from Jimin's hold as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing figure eights into them, "J- too m- much," you whimper out, straining against his arms.

"Yeah?" his smooth voice asks, "but I thought you wanted to cum, princess? Didn't you? I need to cum, Mr. Park. I need to cum now." He mocks you. “Well, that's what I'm doing doll. I'm. Making. You. Cum," he emphasizes each word with a harsh thrust, jolting you forward.

You're being reduced to a mess, tears streaming down your face and slick dripping down your thighs. You can feel your gummy walls tightening more and more on their own accord, without even trying. Without even realizing it, you've changed from trying to move away from Jimin's fingers to grinding down on his dick.

Jimin, however, notices this. "God, you're such a slut, Y/N. Weren't you just asking me to stop?" He raises your left leg onto the desk, allowing him to have more access to your folds. He slaps your clit when you don’t give a response and you yelp, clenching down on his dick. He slaps you a couple more times, and your cunt drips even more, making your thighs sticky with your honeyed juices. You can feel yourself nearing your orgasm once again from his motions.

Suddenly, Jimin pushes you back on his desk and begins hammering into you from behind. "You're going to cum again, aren't you? Filthy little girl, didn't you just cum? Are you really that needy for some dick?" You try to hold back a whimper from his words but it slips from your lips. "You're really a whore, aren't you, baby?"

In response, Jimin spanks you, and you yelp. "Keep doing that," he hisses when you clench down on his dick. "You like being punished, don't you?" You nod meekly in response. He smacks your already reddened ass again and you hiss at the stinging sensation. Paired with the pleasure his cock is giving you, thrusting so deep into you, you can feel yourself practically getting high off the feeling.

Jimin feels you cumming before you realize it yourself. His hips nearly stutter at the way your walls have clenched around his dick. He opts to rut his hips into yours, no longer being able to thrust in and out due to how tight you are. He reaches under your body to rub tight circles on your throbbing clit and you start cumming again, clenching erratically around his dick. "You cumming, Y/N? Be a good girl and let go for me. Get this fat cock all wet," he commands. You ball up your fists and dig your nails into your palms, pleasure coursing through your veins. Riding the course of your high, you wish for nothing more but to be in the moment.

When you come down from your orgasm, Jimin finally pulls his hard dick out of you. You feel his precum and your cum drip down your thighs. Whining, you rub them together to get rid of the feeling but it only serves to make you stickier. Jimin parts your thighs and runs a hand up them to cup your pussy, pausing to feel your cunt still clenching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. He smacks your abused heat, jolting you forwards and causing you to grit your teeth in overstimulation.

He flips you over, spreading your legs open. He leans over you, rubbing the tip of his dick over your swollen and throbbing clit, making you shiver. "Prof- professor, I can’t-" you begin but are interrupted my Jimin quickly shoving into you. Gasping, you clench down onto his dick, eyes rolling back into your head.

"You can, Y/N, and you fucking will," he grunts harshly, snapping his hips into yours. You grasp at his arm after feeling him in you deeper than before. The head of his cock nearly kisses your cervix and his impossibly hard dick stretches your tight cunt open even more, making you wince at the pleasurable pain.

"I- oh god, I really can’t. It feels-" you choke out through your tears. "It feels too- oh!" your head rolls back as Jimin hooks your legs over his shoulders, creating a new angle of penetration. He rubs your clit ever so slightly, the abused bundle of nerves pulsing under his touch. "It feels too what?" he hisses, rolling his hips upward so that his tip just barely grazes your g-spot. Too good, you want to say, but pleasure is clouding your mind and you can’t get the words out.

"That’s it, baby," he hums, "taking my fat cock so well even though you’re so- shit, you’re so fucking tight. Are you gonna cum again, hm? Cream all over my dick and make another mess?" you’re being reduced to a blathering mess, Jimin’s name rolling off the tip of your tongue. "Yeah? Can’t even hold it back a little? Even though I let you cum so many times, you still want more? Greedy little bitch," he spits at you.

When you clench down at his words, he starts pistoning his hips into yours, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoing around the room. His cock seems to be splitting you open even more, and you can feel every pulse of his dick on your walls. "Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to cum," he groans.

"I- I’m close too, Mr. Park. It- fuck, it feels really good," you breathe out as Jimin leans down over you. He slows his hips down, opting to roll his hips smoothly and brushing over your g-spot with painful accuracy. Hovering over you, his stare bores into yours, eyes flitting down to your lips, reddened and swollen from you biting them. You whimper and tilt your chin up towards him and he leans his head down to yours.

He lets his lips ghost over yours, warm breath brushing over your lips as his hips grind into yours. "P- please," you beg, and Jimin finally relents and melds his lips to yours, bringing the two of you into a searing kiss, groaning as you near each of your highs. You break the kiss to gasp out, "I’m c- cumming again Mr. Park."

"Yeah?" he breathes surprisedly, "your little pussy’s that sensitive that you’re gonna- fuck, you’re cumming already? So quickly?" he leans down as your orgasm washes over you, this one hitting you slowly and harshly. You arch your back into Jimin’s chest, hands gripping at the collar of his shirt. His thumb continues to gently rub over your clit, causing you to roll your eyes back into your head at the overstimulation. You start shaking underneath him, squirming to get away from the overload of senses, but he holds you in place as you ride your high for what seems to be like an eternity.

"That's a good girl," he soothes as you continue to writhe underneath him. "Look at you, stuffed so full of my cock it’s making you cry. Does that feel good, darling?" you nod, sobbing. When your orgasm starts to fade away, spots of white dotting your vision, he still doesn’t stop thrusting into you.

You bite your lip, and seeing that he’s close, you whisper, "M- Mr. Park, I want you t- to cum too. I- in me." His hips stutter at your words. "Shit, yeah? You’d let me do that?"

You nod, "want you to fill me up w- with your cum and s- stuff me so full of it that it’s gonna be in me for days. And I wanna fe- fuck, I wanna feel you in me even when I’m alone, professor." At your words, Jimin lets out a slightly animalistic growl and leans in. "You’d like that, huh?" he asks. "Me fucking you so well till you can’t think straight? Putting my cum in you so that when you walk out of here, it’s dripping down your pretty little thighs, making you look like the filthy little slut you really are? You think you deserve that?"

"Please, sir, I really want it," you beg, "please." With that, Jimin attaches his lips onto yours again, grinding his hips into yours even deeper as he finally orgasms. He doesn’t stutter his hips as he continues his ministrations, even though he can feel your walls desperately squeezing around him, milking his cock of its seed. You feel the thick ropes of his warm cum painting your inner walls every second. Each time he pulls out slightly, a bit of it leaks out of your cunt, dripping down your ass onto his desk. He continues fucking his cum into you until he’s satisfied with the way you’re shivering under him.

For a moment, all is still, nothing but the sound of the two of your breathing filling the air as you stare into each other’s eyes. "Um-," you begin, and Jimin quickly looks away, brushing his thumb over his plump lips. So that just happened. I fucked my teacher. I fucked Park Jimin.

"Wait here," he mutters, making your heart drop in disappointment. You nod, offering him a weak smile. Seeing this, Jimin reassures you, "don’t worry, I’m not leaving you. I’ll be right back," and cautiously steps out of the room after clothing himself.

You take this moment to recollect what exactly happened. Okay, so you just fucked your teacher. It still hasn’t sunk in yet, and probably won’t till you leave to clean yourself and look at the marks he’s made on your thighs and ass. You can’t help the giddiness you feel, like a kid who got the best candy bar in the world. After all, you got to hook up with your crush - in fact, the entire campus’s crush. The door creaks open and Jimin returns with some paper towels and wipes.

"H- hey," he smiles nervously. For the first time, he’s the one that’s stuttering. "Let me clean you up. It’s the least I could do after putting you through so much today." He spreads your legs gently, cheeks flushed, and begins wiping off the slick and cum between your thighs.

"Jimin, you didn’t do anything bad, calm down. Well, I mean you fucked your student? But other than that you’re fine. I really liked it," you try to explain, stumbling over your words. He looks at you incredulously, but shakes his head, smiling. "I don't want to tell anyone about this," you continue, "and I highly doubt you will, so this can stay as our little secret."

"Well looks like someone got fucked a little too happy. How come you never smile this much when I’m teaching, hm?" Jimin jokes after he finishes cleaning you up, kissing your knee gently. He hands you your thong that he’s kept for half the day and tells you to put it on.

"You’re still going to the party, right? Jaebum’s?" he asks and you shrug. "You should go. Have a fun time there, drinking and all that stuff." He leans into you, whispering into your ear, "and if that rascal wants to get into your pants, he’s going to see your soaked panties covering up that precious little cunt of yours stuffed with all that cum of mine. Maybe then he’ll finally back off," he smirks.

You blush, "maybe, Mr. Park. You know, you’re pettier than I thought you’d be." Standing up, to face him, he pulls you in by the waist till your chests are touching. You wrap your arms around his neck and he leans in, whispering, "well, Y/N, I don’t think you knew too much about me in the first place." Closing the gap between the two of you, you give him a peck on the lips, which quickly turns into a more heated kiss, lips melding together and tongues colliding. When you break apart, a faint blush on the two of your cheeks, Jimin smiles fondly at you and you look away.

"Well," you hum contentedly, "if I don’t know much about you now, I’d at least like to get to know you better in the future."

"One day," he breathes out. "One day."

Your grin, disentangling yourself from his arms. "One day soon, I hope. I’ve got to go now, but I’ll see you next class. Goodbye prof- Jimin. Have a great weekend."

He smiles softly, walking you to the door. "You too, Y/N. If you do end up going to that party, have fun. Stay safe."

552 notes · View notes

miraculouscontent · 3 years

Photo

Always.

“Truth” is just... I mean, I want to say “garbage” but that doesn’t even do how bad it is justice? Like, okay, I take four major issues with it (my followers be like: just four? :P):

First is the writing in general and the continuity of it all. This episode looks like it’s been through multiple drafts and the final product is an amalgamation of a bunch of them with no coherency between any of them. I already could kind of guess it from the Adrimi kiss that the finale removed, but it’s obvious that there were going to be Adrimi/Lukanette arcs in Season 4 but then stuff happened (i.e: the staff being cowards) and they got cut. It’s totally possible that the plot with Jagged Stone being the father and Marinette having to keep secrets from Luka were still the same episode even in the original draft, but I imagine it at least wasn’t episode one.

There are other, more subtle hints as well, like the episode giving no time to Luka learning that Jagged is his father (making the fandom wonder if Luka remembered when he was Truth) and Ladybug being shocked when she realizes that the akuma is Luka as if she didn’t already see him be akumatized. Juleka also gets weirdly sidelined in the episode despite being Luka’s twin (Astruc has stated that both Luka and Juleka are older and Juleka got held back, which is why she’s in Marinette’s grade but Luka isn’t), so she’s Jagged’s offspring as well. One might presume that Juleka just never cared at all but that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t be allowed to interact directly with the guy or have any involvement at all. All it would’ve taken is for Luka to mention that Juleka never cared about who their father was but he did, thereby implying that Juleka’s reaction to Jagged would probably be more like, “oh okay.”

You know, if they didn’t reduce her to incoherent mumbling.

Second is the timing of this episode. We had the New York special with Paris being destroyed, but it’s clearly fine here (so I guess it isn’t canon now; thank God honestly), and while it’s technically possible that enough time has passed (supported by the vague implication that Marinette having to miss out on dates with Luka has gone on for a while, given Tom and Sabine’s lack of reaction to them dating), it’s not supported by Marinette examining the Miracle Box as if she’s only just gotten it.

There’s also Shadow Moth, where we’re shown an extended version of the scene from the end of “Miracle Queen” where Gabriel repairs the peacock miraculous, giving the episode a “Volpina”->”The Collector” vibe but then why are the events lining up the way they do???

The narrative also does a really bad job at showing us why Marinette is so strapped for time. She has guardian duties now but you’d think it’d balance out with her not having to go to Fu anymore for guardian training (you know, that thing we never saw but was said to be happening or at least that it was Fu’s intent to have it happen). You could argue that maybe Shadow Moth is more active, but then Chat Noir should be affected by this too; Ladybug states outright that she’s been busy and Chat Noir responds with something akin to, “oh I know, because you’re guardian,” which implies that it’s her guardian duties keeping her busy and Shadow Moth is just interrupting her dates specifically.

But we don’t even see what responsibilities she has added on as guardian. I knew the writers would make it so her being guardian was a hassle, but it’s the first episode of the series and we’ve gotten next to no answers for what being guardian actually adds.

It’s almost like this was a rushed first episode to break up the only thing that unambiguously made Marinette happy for the sake of bringing the love square back and needlessly making her suffer because the writers think it’s hilarious.

Speaking of which, the third thing thing is the comedy because--just--I hate the comedy in this show.

Like, just to start, there’s the kwami, who clearly begin with their mob mentality from the later episode of “Furious Fu” and all proceed to act like children. No, I didn’t expect them to all be wise (I mean, Xuppu exists and is very much not that, having been implied to be a fit for Kim who is known for being a total himbo), but I don’t expect them to all scatter like they do. Kaalki in particular, who was shown to be more poised and refined, blatantly reveals herself to a bunch of civilians just for the sake of Marinette freaking out and needing to make up an excuse.

Same with Alya and her friends. Marinette is panicking because of the kwami and Alya “deduces” (while shading Marinette so blatantly that it’s insulting) that Adrien must be there in her house which--maybe don’t SAY THAT OUT LOUD in case Adrien is literally in her room???). Then Marinette gets a call from Luka, shouts his name, and the girls do a complete 180 in support of Lukentte. It’s not like I’m not for them supporting whatever Marinette wants to do, but the shift is so sudden (and contradicts “Frozer”) that it gave me whiplash and the entire scene ends up being pointless since the girls still go with the “Marinette is in love with Adrien” thing when Truth asks them what Marinette’s secret is. Like, we could’ve gotten small, stupid secrets that everyone thought only they knew about Marinette, but instead it’s just the same thing over and over again (which makes no sense since, by the time Alya blabs the secret - which Alya has already told Nino before anyway - it’s no longer a secret therefore making the answer invalid).

Heck, the whole “secret” thing could’ve even been the people Truth shoots finding ways of answering his questions in a way that is technically telling the truth but also not really, such as if Anarka had answered the, “Who’s my father?” question with, “someone you know/someone famous,” so as to avoid saying that it’s Jagged Stone. It’s just boring seeing characters answer with whatever the asker wants to hear instead of being able to find a way around it.

And then there’s Chat Noir, who’s just--ugh.

Like--okay, I’m going to be extremely petty for a moment and just go off because I hate Chat Noir’s role in this entire episode. The Season 3 finale went out of its way to have Chat Noir be all like, “I have a girlfriend,” when it was a lie, and then Season 4 just parkours around Ladybug telling him that she’s dating (Ladybug clearly took no issue with Chat Noir telling her he’s dating so it’s not like she’s worried about issues there; she’s gotten on his case before in episodes like “Startrain” so there are exceptions) because they want to keep having him flirt and not be sAd because this is Marinette’s episode of suffering and Chat Noir actually having to face the reality that Ladybug is dating (not just in love with someone else) would’ve actually been interesting. Chat Noir gets tons of unnecessary screentime in the episode - mostly for the show to shove in LadyNoir shipping fuel - and then actively avoids telling him the obvious thing because he would’ve actually been forced to grow/develop/stop flirting.

It would’ve been so cute and sweet to see him awkwardly trying to flirt without overstepping boundaries (so more like banter than flirt) or - you know - actually try to support Ladybug and want her to be able to finish her dates by him offering to keep akuma/sentimonsters busy, but no, he’s just left in the dark.

The finale had Chat Noir supporting her (terribly but I digress) and then doesn’t do anything with it at the start of Season 4, meaning his support of her was completely meaningless and just there.

His first appearance is him pranking Ladybug when she’s already overstressed and busy, which comes off as super poor taste and I’m both glad he got splatted into that window for it but also upset because it’s screentime completely gone to waste, and of course it’s just a lead up to him guilting her by being like, “nooo the only thing that hurts me is when you leave me alone during patrol!”

I know he’s teasing (...probably) but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth because we know (well, I knew because I know how this show works) that Luka and Marinette were going to break up because of Marinette’s hectic schedule, so it just comes off as insensitive to joke about it, especially when Ladybug’s busy guardian status just serves as a reminder that Fu is gone.

Even when he’s protecting Ladybug from Truth’s questions by cutting in and asking a question of his own, of course he asks about himself to forcibly fish compliments out of Ladybug because she can’t lie to him, and of course they have Ladybug compliment his humor most of all as if that trait hasn’t nearly gotten them in danger multiple times and she’s been repeatedly annoyed when he decides to joke during the worst possible times. It’s as if the writers wanted to pat themselves on the back for their own comedy, so they had Ladybug be a mouthpiece to stroke Chat Noir’s ego.

He claims he won’t force a truth out of her and then literally forces her to say what her favorite things about him are. I acknowledge that this can be seen as me nitpicking but we went from the finale where Chat Noir actually stepped up and took charge (because Ladybug was stressed but I guess him doing anything useful is just whenever it serves the plot) to this where he’s back to flirting constantly and jamming in as much LadyNoir shipping fuel as physically possible. It’s not that he’s useless but he’s annoying and takes up space in an episode that’s supposed to be about Luka and Marinette.

And that leads us into the fourth thing, which is the break-up and just the treatment of Luka and Marinette in general. I could go on and on about how the Season 3 finale built up their relationship just to tear it down in the first episode of Season 4, but that’s not the main issue here.

Luka brought Marinette comfort. He made her happy. He never judged her. He was happy to just date her regardless of any conflicted feelings she might have because hey, who is he to complain if she wants to give him a try and who knows what’ll happen?

And the season couldn’t even give one moment of them being unambiguously happy without ruining or interrupting it. I was ready for the break-up and I was even ready for it to be the first episode but I wasn’t ready for it to be so bad.

Marinette’s Adrien pictures appear out of nowhere (again, makes no sense for the timeline) when they’ve been gone for basically all of Season 3 and even “The Puppeteer 2″ specifically which makes a direct reference to “Troublemaker,” the episode that purposefully overdid it with her pictures (”Truth” has more hanging up and clearly used “Troublemaker” as a reference, by the way). They’re just there for force the love square and Adrien into the episode as much as possible to remind the audience that Adrien breathes. There is literally no purpose to any mention of Adrien and bringing him up isn’t even relevant to Marinette and Luka’s break-up.

It’s just upsetting to know that the umbrella scene from “Origins” (which is already flawed in and of itself) kickstarts this whole thing. Adrien did basically nothing there except for clear up a misunderstanding and give Marinette an umbrella when his ride was a few meters away and Marinette’s house was just across the street, but that actives Marinette’s absolutely crippling crush on him that lasts for 3-4 seasons. Marinette is in this eternal struggle of not being allowed to grow and change because the writers think her stammering/crushing on Adrien is funny while actively punishing her for having this crush in the first place (again, like in the scene with Alya, which insults Marinette for her crush when she wasn’t even panicking over her crush).

It’s the same with Luka, and I can’t believe that it took me until this episode to realize that he and Marinette are both treated the same way: tormented by episodes for having a crush on someone. Episodes will go out of their way to forcibly insert Adrien into the plot to both humiliate Marinette and make Luka feel awkward when the episode isn’t supposed to be about Adrien at all. “Truth” is just “Desperada 2.0″ except Adrien is barely on screen at all and they still felt the need to name drop him constantly. The writers are so sensitive to the idea of people jumping onto another ship or forgetting that Adrien exists that they’ll find any possible way to include him.

“Silencer” knew better. “Silencer” knew that Marinette’s life didn’t have to revolve around the mere mention of Adrien’s name and that she had other interests/desires/traits outside of him. Adrien isn’t brought up once and it was great because the show didn’t feel the need (for once) to throw Adrien into an episode that he had nothing to do with.

Even if I was a love square shipper, I would feel insulted by “Truth” because one half of my ship kept getting name dropped and used as a tool to humiliate the other half, which makes it all the more eyeroll-worthy when the love square stans of the fandom praise this episode for breaking Lukanette up when--oh, wait, they didn’t even break up “because Adrien.”

And that ends up being the real thing here. The writers had to invent a reason for Marinette and Luka to break up. We already know that Jagged Stone being Luka’s dad is a retcon (not technically in the show’s canon but in information we heard about outside of it), so they shoved in Luka having issues about not knowing his father specifically so that he would be pushed over the edge when Marinette couldn’t tell him about her being Ladybug.

When Luka and Marinette were just together and hanging out, Adrien wasn’t mentioned once. Say whatever about the Adrien pictures being on the wall and Marinette’s stammering (she always says stupid stuff when she panics - especially stuff she doesn’t mean - so I’m not upset with her so much as the writing for having her mess up in that specific way), but the only time Marinette talks about Adrien at all in the episode is when someone else brings him up.

She goes on a date with Luka to the cinema and they were having a great time without Adrien involved at all. I know I already stressed this point in a previous post, but one of the reasons that I find Lukanette to be so amazing is because the show actually focuses on Marinette’s interests and doesn’t force her to be the writer’s mouthpiece for gushing about their sunshine boy a punching bag for comedy. In every Lukanette scene that doesn’t bring up Adrien/before Adrien shows up, Marinette is either praised, able to be happy, or is showing one of her interests that isn’t aDrIeN, and whereas Adrien being on-screen around Marinette usually just means that she’s gushing about/stammering around him with no development, Lukanette features us actually learning more about Luka or other characters.

“Captain Hardrock” - lets her bond with Luka over a shared interest in Jagged Stone, and Luka is established as a sort of empath who uses music as a way to speak for himself

“Frozer” - gets to practice ice skating with Luka, who is actually good at ice skating and also can tie laces despite not tying his own because he’s a rebel

“Desperada” - gets to try out guitar with Luka and we learn that Luka has been playing guitar for as long as he can remember

“Silencer” - showcases Marinette’s interest in fashion and properly introduces Kitty Section; has a plot featuring all of them together doing something not even remotely love-related and we get actual confirmation of Luka’s crush on Marinette, along with Marinette’s reaction (blushy+happy; just saying, idk how anyone could watch “Silencer” and not think that Marinette was crushing on Luka)

“Heart Hunter” - Marinette gets a song written for/about her and Luka is established to have a job

“Truth” - brings up Lukanette’s shared interest in Jagged Stone, features Marinette’s interest in fashion when she gives him a gift she made + had Jagged Stone sign, and shows her raising her voice but not being judged by Luka for it, who’s happy with her just the way he is

When the show focuses on Lukanette, it’s all about lifting Marinette up, praising her, and making her feel good. When Adrien is involved or it’s hyper-fixating on Marinette’s crush on him, it’s about bringing her down and making her feel bad for a crush they keep forcing her to hold onto and humiliating her for.

Point being, the writers had to force their way into getting Lukanette broken up because of their precious love square and the fact that Marinette and Luka being happy is the opposite of what they want.

It’s embarrassing to watch a team full of old white guys (I’m convinced at this point that they just hang their female writer on a coat hanger so they can point to her whenever someone says that their staff is too male-dominated) treat their female biracial lead with such disrespect, and I can only presume that the mistreatment of Luka is because he’s supportive of her and they don’t like that, meaning that the way she’s treated ends up rubbing off on him.

It doesn’t come off as a fun or interesting plot; it comes off as cruel. When Adrien is sad, he usually gets people rushing to comfort him (”Party Crasher,” “Gamer”), but “Truth” has Marinette in tears over the fact that she can’t have a boyfriend due to being Ladybug and the writing has the gall to crack jokes about Kaalki not knowing what tears are, and then Marinette has to ask for the kwami to hug her for comfort.

When Luka gets akumatized into Truth, the episode doesn’t even hesitate at bashing away at him, from everyone saying that Marinette’s secret is that she “loves Adrien” (which, as Truth points out, isn’t a secret, and they could’ve had this somehow lead up to a twist ending where Marinette actually isn’t into Adrien anymore and the Adrien pictures were genuinely for reference, but she stammered about it because it was embarrassing that her boyfriend got sent it with no context) to one of Luka’s favorite songs actually being about how Jagged abandoned him to go on tour. Luka has to deal with Marinette ditching him constantly (not that I blame her) and not knowing who his father is despite wanting to know, and the episode treats him like trash for... what? Having a crush on a girl who’s secretly Ladybug? Because that’s all it seems to come down to in the end.

I also have serious gripes with the fact that Marinette has this huge schedule established in “Gamer 2.0″ and they don’t even try to explain why she can’t use it to keep track of her obligations. The episode has her say (in a roundabout way but still) that she’s forgetting stuff constantly because of all of her emergencies (the emergencies of which are not stated and I hate the subtle implication that forgetting something means you don’t care about it when that’s clearly not how things work and also not what Marinette comes off as because - again - they establish that she’s overworked) but fails to properly explain it. The episode hammers away at Marinette having all these issues and even has Tikki chide Marinette by asking her about leaving Luka alone while apparently neglecting the fact that Marinette HAS to go be Ladybug right now and what else is there to even do??

Both Luka and Marinette are punished for just having a crush and wanting to be together and I hate that the episode forces a break-up instead of coming up with a solution to the problem. Instead of “Marinette isn’t ready for a romantic relationship,” it feels more like she’s just not allowed to be happy.

Long-distance relationships are a thing. Relationships where people don’t get to go on dates frequently are a thing. Instead of forcing a break-up, the episode could’ve had a lesson/development where Marinette is told that she’s allowed to pursue a relationship and just needs to plan accordingly. but they just didn’t want to.

For example: instead of planning dates, Marinette could wait until an akuma/sentimonster is defeated to call Luka and ask him out, because Hawk Moth usually doesn’t strike immediately after one is dealt with. I’m positive that Luka would happily take impromptu/sudden dates over planned-but-inconsclusive ones. Heck, they don’t even have to date specifically and can just stick to phone calls (kwami can’t be picked up on technology) or hanging out in Marinette’s room/on Marinette’s balcony while they do their thing.

Relationships are a commitment, but that doesn’t mean they have to be a burden, and the episode absolutely drags Marinette over it. The whole thing with the kwami being released and stressing her out when they’re not supposed to be able to just come out normally is explained away by, “oh, the new box must be like you, Marinette; full of surprises!” when the reality is just that the show wants to take away everything that’s sacred to Marinette. The Season 3 finale had Fu’s letter telling Marinette that “life doesn’t always give you what you want, but the real gift is life itself,” then proceeds to turn Marinette’s life into a living hell.

Her room? She has to say good-bye to her privacy because now the kwami are always going to be around. The first thing one of them (Trixx) did was start reading her diary, showing that they have absolutely no shame or regard for Marinette’s feelings.

Her schedule? Conveniently pops away into the realm of non-existence so she can look bad for ditching Chat Noir on patrol and neglecting dates with Luka due to her responsibilities/stress.

Her boyfriend, the one person in the entire show who loved her, respected her agency, never judged her, actually apologized when he made her sad, and who she was genuinely in love with rather than just having the equivalent of a celebrity crush for? She had to break up with him because plot and needing to force her to go back to fawning over the guy who has only made her life worse by her crushing on him.

When I say the universe hates Marinette, this is what I mean. It created random akuma to attack Paris all for the sake of forcing Marinette away from Luka, and apparently didn’t realize what they were doing in the scene where Marinette hurries back to the Liberty when Kitty Section and Adrien are playing together when Adrien is Chat Noir so he should’ve been late too.

(Oh, and Marinette completely ignores Adrien in favor of waving at Luka and even tells Luka outright that Adrien isn’t even a factor in their relationship issues, further proving the “multiple drafts smashed together” and “the Adrien name drops are pointless” points.)

The whole thing in “Backwarder” where it was basically outright stated that Marianne could’ve been Fu’s confidant had Marianne not been outed by Ladybug’s mistake? Completely forgotten and left to the wayside. Marinette could’ve told Luka that she was watching the Miracle Box in Ladybug’s place (for any number of reasons, really: either Ladybug thinks it’s too dangerous to keep with her, or if the public doesn’t know that Ladybug is guardian, then Marinette can just say that she’s guardian) and that she has to run off to keep guard of the Miracle Box when an akuma/sentimonster happens in case Ladybug needs a miraculous.

Boom, done, episode solved. Luka gets to help Marinette with the kwami, Marinette is less stressed because someone knows half of her secret, and Luka and Marinette continue to date but are able to plan around akuma attacks.

But no. That whole thing in “Backwarder” where guardians (or at least Fu) can have a confidant was just there so Marinette could feel guilty about screwing it all up, because she’s not able to take advantage of that perk herself.

How convenient.

#category: salt #category: critique #episode: Truth #other: ml spoilers #other: ask and answer #((This is mostly incoherent because I am very tired.))#((''In general or at the episode--'' Yes.))

129 notes · View notes

blush-and-books · 3 years

Note

College AU, Fluff, Meeting, Screenplay

after spending 20 minutes panicking about the fact that you sent me a request. i watched some modern family. and then buckled up to write a little college au for you. yes they are at usc lmao. julie is in the john wells screenwriting program and luke doesn’t specify in this but in my head he’s a business major. enjoy and thank you so much for making me briefly lose my mind

Julie didn’t realize that she had stayed past her reserved time.

Not a single part of her had been keeping track -- she was much too enthralled in finishing her draft of the pilot episode of her television drama. It was a portion of one of the many portfolio pieces that she would accumulate over her time here, and she was determined to make it a strong “first episode;” seeing as how not only was the Pitch Fair coming up, but her professor also recently found an in with David E. Kelley and was teasing an opportunity at an internship.

She was putting an inhumane amount of pressure on herself to write this, and make it beautiful. Unfortunately, it was hard for her to focus when she had two other roommates with raging social lives and coffee shops were only distracting towards her creative flow.

That was how she found herself -- running off of three coffees and three Bangs (and a seventh concoction that was part-coffee, part-Bang, that she never wants to think about again), four hours of sleep, and pure adrenaline -- staying way past her time in the private studying room in the library.

An insistent knock on her door is what tipped her off.

“Hello?” There was an exasperated, deep voice on the other side of the door. “You almost done in there? Your time’s up!”

The flow of her creative juices was suddenly interrupted, and when she looked, panicked, at her computer clock, her terror was confirmed. “Shit.”

The first thing she does is rush to unlock the door, and open it up to let the other party in. She doesn’t even stop to look at them before whirling around back to her computer and bag to pack up her garbage and other belongings; wanting to rush out of there as soon as possible.

“I am so sorry,” she gushes, still unaware of who was actually in the room with her. “I just had this big script to write and I am seriously out of it because I have been consuming dangerous amounts of caffeine on no sleep, so I am so sorry if you lose study time because of me-”

Zipping up her bag and slinging it clumsily over her shoulder, Julie allows herself to meet the eyes of the stranger whose education she has just hindered -- and is met with the sight of warm green.

The stranger (the extraordinarily attractive stranger who is wearing a sleeveless shirt that shows off unfairly toned biceps), is smiling down at her with what she could only describe as concerned amusement. He doesn’t even have any kind of backpack with him, she notices; just a leather-bound journal in one hand, and a jean-chain being jingled in his other hand.

“Actually,” he chuckles a little. God, Julie would kill to not look like the walking dead right now. The universe has decided to be so, completely unfair to her in every way. This guy is probably terrified of her. “It sounds like you need this place more than I do. You stay.”

But he doesn’t make any actual move to leave -- he just lingers on her, on her face.

Probably on the dark circles shading under her eyes, and the oil that’s probably dotting her nose and chin. He probably thinks she’s disgusting -- but he’s doing a hell of a job hiding it. If she were an idiot, she would think he was looking at her in awe.

The two of them just stand on each side of the desk, eyeing each other in an inexplicable way.

(It feels magnetic. But Julie thinks she’s also just tired.)

“No, really, take the room. I am so sorry I stayed into your time.”

The hot stranger (God, why?) bites his lip with a smile, and shakes his head. “No, I mean- It’s probably more beneficial if you stay. I wasn’t going to study.”

“... Then what was your plan?”

He wiggles his hand from side to side, gesturing to the journal grasped between his fingers. Julie tries to focus her eyes on the book instead of his arms, but wow, his arms.

“Some writing of my own. I’m in a band, and I write all of our songs.”

Wow. Another writer. And he’s in a band -- and Julie looks like a fool.

What did she do in her past life that deserved this?

“Oh, that’s really cool,” she tries to tell him, and she really means it, but she’s also kind of miserable in her current situation so it comes out a little less than enthusiastic.

Hot Stranger takes notice. “Wow, yeah, you sound super interested.”

Julie literally buries her head in her hands, and rubs them over her face a couple times for good measure. Maybe this is a dream, and she’ll wake up with the sweet memory of caring green eyes and floppy brown hair on a guy that is too perfect for her to exist in real life.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a little frustrated at my current situation.”

“Understandably so. Lots of caffeine, no sleep, and high expectations for yourself can do that to a person.”

“And add a cute writer guy on top of that, while I feel like shit, is a recipe for disaster.”

Yes, she just said that out loud.

Does she even care at this point? Not really. She’ll wake up from her caffeine crash tomorrow morning and probably manage to convince herself that it was all a dream.

But right now, unfortunately, she is still in reality. “You think I’m cute?”

Writer Guy bounces on the balls of his feet, like a physical response to the compliment. She can’t help but find it endearing -- if also a little bit like a little kid who just got told that he was going to get ice cream. Her heart kicks in her chest, because she should seriously just leave before anything else dumb comes out of her mouth.

But he’s so cute, and he’s grinning at her as if they’ve been friends for years. And the thought of leaving is unsavory.

“That sounds like my cue to leave,” Julie responds instead, tightly gripping the strap of her bag. “Thank you for the sympathy, it was nice to meet you, and good luck with your band thing. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Wait!”

He doesn’t have to tell her twice. In fact, it’s probably pathetic how quickly she comes to a stop and spins around to meet his eyes once again.

“Really, you should stay. This room is big enough for the both of us. And if you’re writing a script, that means you’re in John Wells, and that’s-” He scratches the back of his neck. “That’s big. It’s really cool. If you don’t mind me scribbling in my songbook, then I would really like it if you would stay.”

Julie is so floored by his request, and the way he looks surprisingly nervous while making it, that she completely forgets to actually respond. He continues to fill the silent space with anxious talking.

“I- I’m Luke, by the way.” His hand is suddenly in front of her, and he is only about two feet away from her instead of eight feet, and he almost takes her breath away up close.

She has enough brain cells in her to take it. Do the calluses on his hand almost make her audibly gasp? Yes. But the important thing is that she doesn’t.

“I’m Julie,” she finds herself saying to him -- Luke -- with a small smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Luke doesn’t drop her hand. She doesn’t pull it away. “It’s nice to meet you too, Julie.”

God, Julie must be about to fall asleep standing up at any moment, because she obscenely feels like she has never heard her name sound so beautiful. It carries new meaning coming out of a literal stranger’s mouth, and it’s just like that that she realizes she should probably take her hand out of his so that it doesn’t get clammy and he isn’t immediately disgusted.

“So… You wanna stay? We can write together?”

She’s going to need another coffee for this, but yes -- she really, really wants to stay.

And so she does.

#jatp #juke #juke fanfic #jatp fanfic

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jungnoir · 3 years

Text

destiny | 09;

⇢ summary: you’re just about ready to give up on life altogether; your love life is in ruins, you’ve lost your job, and your family couldn’t care less about you… and then you meet your blushing guardian angel, and maybe life isn’t so bad after all.

⇢ relationship: jeon jungkook/reader, min yoongi/reader.

⇢ genre: supernatural, angel!au, demon!au, romance, thriller.

⇢ words: 6.5k words.

⇢ warnings: mentions of depression, violence, vomiting. slightly nsfw toward the end.

previously | next

a/n: happy new year! I know it’s been quite a while (literally an entire year since I’ve updated) but I’ve had this chapter pretty much ready in my drafts and just hadn’t gotten around to finishing because. everything. regardless, I hope this sort of makes up for it. love you all! hope you’re doing well. also WOW I swear a lot in this one.

His hand on your neck is meant to silence any screams that might slip out. He applies the perfect pressure to avoid crushing anything vital (and just by the feel alone, you know he’s got quite an amount of strength to pull that off) while simultaneously stealing all your air and forcing you to cower in fear. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know this guy isn’t someone to be fucked with, and all you can think about is the fact that Jungkook is right outside and has no fucking clue what’s going on. The very thought fills you with dread.

“Then again, you’ve got someone helping you.” What once was just a particular, calculated press against your skin becomes a deliberate act of violence as he begins to choke you harshly. You know the pain of his grip might last for weeks, and that’s only if you don’t die in the next minute. “Just makes me wonder what’s so special about you.”

“Nothing!” You rasp out, clawing at his hand now in some weak attempt at breaking away. If you could make enough noise, enough commotion, surely someone-

-but the stranger has already stopped you quick. You aim to throw the door open or something but his free hand quickly apprehends you until you’re just a squirming mess on the verge of passing out. Even your legs are pressed firmly to the wall by his own body, holding you fast so that you can’t help letting a few tears fall. There was no doubt in your panicked mind that this was Seokjin, the angel who’d been trailing you from the shadows for what felt like centuries. His grand act of approaching you, something you’d dreamed up to be a major climactic brawl in a battlefield made for a spectacle, turns out to be so simple. Perhaps that’s what you got for thinking biblically. Why go through all the trouble when he could just squash the problem the minute a chance presented itself?

Now, all you can think is “I can’t die like this”. A sobering thought of pure contempt. Drowning in the river was preferable to this.

You muster what breath you can, eyes blazing, “How does it feel… being God’s lap dog?”

Seokjin is, funnily enough, stunned for a moment. All bravado slips through a teeny crack in his demeanor when you say that, and even though it’s a low blow, it’s also enough for you to thrust a semi-powerful kick to the dressing room door to make the entire thing shudder like an earthquake. That sound, coupled with your comment, makes Seokjin release you in a panic. You hear some gasps from outside, a few people inquiring if you’re alright. An employee sounds most worried amongst the voices. You’re just shy of swinging the door open and forcing Seokjin to be revealed or to disappear all at once, but then he’s grabbed the back of your collar as you scream in frustrated fury. Seconds later, you’re no longer in the dressing room anymore.

Instead, you fall flat on a rough, sandy surface. You’re overwhelmed with nausea, pain, and fear, so your whole body is struggling to pick up on the most important things outside of that, but you do realize quite fleetingly that it’s sweltering. It takes you a few seconds as you curl up on the ground to peek behind your hands that shield your face and discover that it’s blindingly bright where you are, almost like a…

For fuck’s sake. “Of all the places…” You whine with a sore throat, coughing right after from the strain.

Seokjin stands above you and uses his foot to kick you onto your back so that you’re staring up at him and the baby blue sky. His hair color plays against it in an unfittingly gentle contrast, “I thought we might need somewhere safer to discuss things. Oh, and speaking of discussion,” he waves a hand near you and you instinctively flinch back before you feel the pain in your throat subside. You wait a few seconds, but it seems whatever he’d just done had no effect on the rising bile in your throat, so you assume that’s something you’ll have to deal with on your own. What an ass. “Feel better?”

“Fuck you! Maybe if you hadn’t choked me out in the first place-”

“You’d have listened?”

“Maybe if you hadn’t hunted us down to kill us, we would have!”

Seokjin frowns, “I didn’t bring you here to talk about you and that boy, I brought you here to talk about you. I am only concerned with you.”

Whatever that entailed did not sound good in the slightest.

You scramble to your feet and immediately regret the movement as it makes you sick again. The more than 100 degree weather does nothing to fix that either, the sun beating down on you and bouncing off the dusty white sands directly into your eyes. You’re feeling something nasty rising up from your stomach, ready to projectile…

Just as the scene changes, you paint a Victorian rug with streaks of your vomit.

Seokjin immediately groans out loud, placing a rough hand at the back of your neck like one would grab the scruff of a kitten. You’re far too weak to protest, rubbing at your mouth with the back of your hand, so you let him toss you into a chair. The jerkiness of the action should have sent another eruption out of you, but you recognize the relief that has overwhelmed you from the touch of his hand. Had he fixed that too?

“Never the matter,” the angel growls, waving his hand and making the mess evaporate from the very fibers of the rug, “you’re all very fragile. I should have prepared you first.”

“How can you do all that…?” You couldn’t recall Jungkook or Jimin showing off any power like that, and whether it was because of Seokjin’s status or their modesty (and adherence to rules), you were unsure. Most likely both.

Instead of answering right away, Seokjin reaches forward a moving cart and you finally notice there’s a glass pitcher of water (hopefully) next to an array of empty glasses. You take the time he spends pouring some water for you to examine your surroundings.

It looks like a secret room in an old English manor house. The walls are painted a deep charcoal and with the absence of natural light, you could mistake it for the void. The only light that does exist is a strangely dim white light coming from the ceiling. What looks like a rather ornate shell of a skylight (sans the window to actually reveal, well, a sky), seems to hide said white light somewhere in it. It’s such a vague glow that you can’t pinpoint if it’s coming from a lightbulb or magic.

The rest of the room is just as ornate as the “skylight”, filled with deep oak bookshelves, golden artifacts, and shining decorations that already look like they cost more than your house. It doesn’t really matter the longer you think about it. All of it has to be an illusion… right?

A glass is placed into your hand and you break out of your thoughts to make eye contact with Seokjin. He hovers over you with narrowed eyes and when you look back at your surroundings again, you notice all the little decorations have disappeared. Why had he- “We can negotiate those bits of the deal later if you so wish.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You ask, hesitant to drink the water despite how much the heat of the desert had made you crave it.

“Like I said before, I brought you here to discuss you. I’ve been watching you and lover boy for a while and it has become clear to me that you’ve been pulled along for quite the ride. I’m sure it’s all very daunting.”

“It wouldn’t have been so bad if you hadn’t shown up.”

“How much do you know about our Lord and Savior?”

It was tricky to say the least. You’d grown up on tales of him, an over-powered being of immense stature. No one could come close to him, not even the devil. However, you’d learned bits and pieces from Jungkook, Yoongi, and the others to the point where your ideas of the figure had become skewed. There was no linear understanding of him. You honestly had no idea, “Probably not enough.”

Seokjin huffs, taking a seat from across from you in a chair similar to yours. Crossing a leg over the other, the angel stares you down, “Do you know why I’m after you both?”

“You want to kill Jungkook. Because he committed your sin.”

“Jungkook is my main target, yes, but it wasn’t my sin. My sin was sullying myself with a demon. Jungkook’s sin was sullying you.”

You frown, “He did no such thing! You had a fucking child! Jungkook saved my life!”

“You mean to say he ruined it. You were supposed to be dead a long time ago.”

You’d known that much, Jungkook had told you already. Even if he hadn’t, that had always been the plan. “It was… it was my choice and I wanted it then, I admit it. But I was hurt. I was overwhelmed. I wanted it because I was scared there would be no reason to keep going.”

The angel angles a brow upwards, “And the fallen was that for you? A reason to keep going?”

“It was- it was a lot of things. I was reminded that I existed, and that there are people who can love me the right way,” frustrated at the situation, you glare at him, “what the fuck? Is this some fucking therapy session?”

He has the gall to smile, “God knows you need one. I’d like to be the one to get inside that mind of yours.”

Shit. What if you’d given him just the right information to use against you?

You snap your lips shut and sink back into your chair, bubbling with more dread. He notices your sudden resolve and appears to want to ease your worries, “I’m not doing this to break you. Unlike God, I find you, as a person, quite redeemable. A gentle, pained soul who fell victim to the perversion of her guardian angel. It’s all very sad.”

So God did think you were a lost cause. Jimin had been right after all. However, you don’t want to keep talking when you’re so close to getting the information you’ve been waiting for. It seems even Seokjin isn’t fazed by your silence, continuing on without missing a beat. “You see, usually these angel and human matters can be chalked up to the angel getting too big for their britches. They think they can change things like fate: God’s very flawless plan from the beginning. They are simply… glitches in the matrix, you could say? That’s where I come in. I make sure these issues are handled and that everything goes back to normal. You see, God loves his humans. Truly. He has a bit of a temper, but it’s justified, you know? He loves you all so very much that seeing you stray from a holy and righteous path is heartbreaking for him. He can only excuse so much.

“So he doesn’t. But… sometimes I help him. I change his mind. Even Jesus had to convince God not to blame his executioners. The big guy gets real impassioned about those he loves. It’s all part of the territory of being in heaven’s sovereignty,” at this, Seokjin shrugs, “you were an unfortunate casualty of it. However, I brought you here because I think that you could be saved. You’re simply confused. I’m sure I could convince God to rethink... his punishment for you.”

Your eyes widen, nearly dropping your glass, “He’d do that?”

The angel nods, pleased, “Of course! After all, he just wants you to repent. If you show that you will, well, I could put in a good word for you. He and I are very close.”

“But only for me.”

Seokjin’s smile dims some. He was so sure he’d had you on the hook just then, “Well… yes. There isn't much I can say about angels. Humans are born sinful, but angels are born knowing better. If they succumb to sin, I cannot do anything about that. But… if you feel that you’d be leaving Jungkook behind, and if that would cause you to feel guilty, I can assure you that that would be taken care of. Your memory of him would be wiped clean and you’d receive another guardian angel in an instant. You’d be granted everything you ever wanted. You’d be able to live out a new path of life contrary to the one your fallen so selfishly carved out for you.”

At this, you begin to frown deeper than you ever have. It’s not out of confusion but deep, deep understanding. Seokjin’s deal was asking you to sell Jungkook out and in return… he’d make you happy. You’d forget all about what had happened and carry on a new person, virtually safe. You could only assume that meant forgetting Yoongi too. Everything you’d accomplished so far would be rearranged until the you that you’d become would be so unfathomable you wouldn’t ever consider it.

What scares you the most is that you actually consider it.

This all could end right now and you’d get out alive, maybe all the ordinary people you knew would get out alive too. You’d be completely removed from the situation. You’d just have to forget Jungkook.

“You asked me how much I know about God,” you start, thumbs twiddling, and Seokjin perks up, “the stories humans told of him always kind of scared me. He’s so powerful… he knew everything before it was even created. Nothing can get past him. And yet, he let humans have free will and the right to choose what their path in life would be. That part always boggled my mind. God’s supposed to love us unconditionally, but if we don’t return the favor, we suffer eternally. It seemed like a pretty big plothole in the otherwise ‘flawless plan’ you claim he made.”

“Yes, well, it’s not God’s fault that Lucifer’s so conniving.”

“But it is. Isn’t it? God created him. Lucifer is the one who brought sin upon the world but God is the one that created him. If he knows everything, why make him in the first place? It’s a fallacy,” Seokjin’s eye twitches just a bit as you lean forward, “that God knows everything. Isn’t it? He wouldn’t be so stupid. He had no fucking clue what he’d made when he made Lucifer.”

“I’d watch your tone. God hears all.” The angel’s ominous reply is all that you need to hear. He doesn’t tell you that anything else you’ve said is false or not. Of course not. You know as well as he does that you’re spot on.

You’re so stunted by the arrogance of it all that you have to laugh, “Allegedly.”

In that same moment, the white light above begins to flicker. A distant rumbling sounds from somewhere and that fear you’d felt earlier comes back with a vengeance. Seokjin looks annoyed, if anything, “I only have so much time to sit here with you to chat.” He stands up and walks over to you, seizing you by the arm, “So I’m telling you now that you still have a chance. No one else has to die. Do me a solid and make that a reality.”

Did he really not want to kill you? He’d had so many chances to. Even now, he could just… what did you have that made him hesitate? “You think I believe that?”

The ground rumbles underneath you and then you fall through, Seokjin’s grip slipping off your arm… or maybe being pried off.

Where you land next isn’t as disorienting as the last few times, but it doesn’t feel any better to be ripped away again without so much as a warning. For a moment before you land, you halt, almost floating. Then your feet make contact with stone and then your knees follow under the sudden press of gravity. A quick look around tells you that Seokjin is nowhere to be seen… and that where you are looks vaguely familiar.

The stone continues up the walls to the ceiling, creating a naturally cold room that expands no more than the size of a restroom (no toilets in sight, however). The furthest edge of the room from you is completely dark, while the other is helped by a fire stretching from one long, narrow wall to the other. There is no wood crackling beneath it though, nor is there an actual controlled area for it to burn. Flames simply lick up the bottom of the wall as if commanded by magic. While the rest of your body feels chilly, the warmth of the fire keeps your head warm like a fever.

You lay crumpled up on your knees and hands, staring into the flames with the most bemused expression, wondering what to do now. You’re definitely not intent on travelling to the other side of the room in fear of being met with something sinister you can’t see, but the fire only illuminates so much of the place and there doesn’t seem to be a door in sight. If Seokjin wasn’t here, you doubted this was a place he wanted to be.

Maybe he was torturing you? Intending to keep you in a dark, scary room in order to break your resolve? You didn’t know the extent of power he was allowed to wield but this whole transportation thing was starting to get really annoying. You chance a meek, “Hello?”

Your voice doesn’t echo like you expect it to. It sounds like it’s right up against your face, like you’d spoken into a pillow, the sound eaten as soon as it came from your mouth. Where the hell were you?

“...not exact, okay?!”

You pick up on a voice to your right and turn over with such speed that you land on your ass. Some stones move on the narrow wall, and then the room is illuminated from an entirely different source of light. It takes you a few moments to gather your bearings as your eyes attempt to adjust. Voices are frantic and coming closer, you can hear that much. You pick up on one instantly, “Jungkook.”

Your voice is weak with relief just as he comes into view. He looks an absolute mess as he throws himself at your feet and wraps you up into a bone-crushing hug. The strength of his hug doesn’t even bother you as you cling back with just as much force, grateful tears beginning to gush out of your eyes. You didn’t realize until then just how terrified you’d been, really. It was always there underneath the surface, but something about Jungkook’s sudden presence makes the reality of it all hit much harder. He smells like your shampoo still.

After a couple of minutes in his embrace, you pull away to examine his face, “Are you okay?”

He laughs and the way his tears have clogged up his throat make it sound more like he’s choking, “Who cares about me? Are you?”

You smile, tucking some of his hair behind his ear, “Better. With you here. Where are we?”

“Limbo, hell’s limbo.”

You’re not sure what to say in response to that. After what you’d been through in the last… however long it’d been, that seems the most plausible to you. “Is that like purgatory?”

“No,” another voice speaks from above you and only then do you realize that Yoongi is here too. He looms over the both of you but his gaze is fixed heavy on your face, “purgatory is where the dead go on their way to heaven. This is where the living come on their way to hell. Was a hell of a ride trying to get your ass down here.”

“Yoongi…” You peel back from Jungkook and stand up, a little wobbly as you lean against the wall, “...thank you. How did you do it? The places Seokjin took me… I felt like we were in a dream.”

His upper lip ticks up in a snarl, “It was. The place where you were is a void, heaven’s version of limbo. It’s where angels bargain with humans on the edge of death to repent. It’s an open playing field for angels to present themselves to their humans without them having to be dead or breaking a rule… not like the latter really applies to Seokjin, though. It’s only as strong as your will to be there,” with that, Yoongi reaches toward you and brushes what feels like sand off your cheek, or perhaps he just meant to touch you to make sure you were really here with the way it lingered, “and that’s the only reason I could pull you out.”

It was a lot to digest. You still couldn’t totally understand how he’d pulled you from heaven’s limbo if he was a demon, but that was beside the point. Right now, you just wanted to get out of this creepy box of a room for good. And it seemed you would be getting your wish.

Another figure became clear to you through the doorway, though this figure looked much more intimidating than the two by your side. Dressed immaculately with a sly smile that felt strikingly familiar, a man makes his way into the room, pressing a hand to his chest and bowing his head to you, “He had my help too, of course. A pleasure to meet you (Name), I’ve heard very little about you.” The man holds out a hand to you and you can feel both Jungkook and Yoongi stiffen on either side of you, but neither makes a move to stop him. This had to be another demon, no doubt.

You take his hand and shake it firmly despite your nerves, “T-Thank you for your help as well. May I ask who you are?”

The man grins wider, “You can call me Lucifer. Are you hungry?”

An entire array of human food is set out before you but you don’t have much of a stomach to touch any of it, though Jungkook seems right at home as he fills up his own plate. You can only guess he’s enjoying the hell out of having so much food at his fingertips without having to pay for it.

You can hear his delighted sound effects from the left of you as you both sit on one side of a long table. Lucifer sits at the head of the table to the right of you, also refraining from really eating anything. Yoongi sits right across from you on the other side with an annoyed expression on his face, fingers tapping the heavy oak table top in a rhythm you can’t decipher. It couldn’t be any more awkward.

“No appetite?” Lucifer asks, pointing to the food. There’s meat and vegetables and cheeses that you know and don’t know but none of it seems particularly appetizing to you at the moment.

You shake your head, “No. Actually, I have a few questions I’d like to ask you.”

“Ah, bet you’re bursting.” He chuckles and takes a swig of something you think might be wine. “Go ahead. I’ll try to recap the last couple of days as well as I can.”

“Days?!” You don’t mean to yell, you really don’t (especially not at the king of hell, but-), “It’s been days?”

Jungkook stops chewing to give you a concerned look, “Of course… how long was it for you?”

“Barely… half an hour, maybe more? But not days.”

“Yes, well,” Lucifer sighs, tucking his hands together in front of himself, “time works much differently in heaven and hell than it does here. Especially for those who end up in heavenly limbo. It’s essentially cut off from the rest of the universe which makes it that much harder to track those who end up there. Seokjin was smart in bringing you there than somewhere else on earth.”

Your head is throbbing at this point. If days had gone by, you could only imagine how much had changed since you’d been gone… “So… what has happened since then?”

“Apparently quite a bit, seeing as I was a last resort.” Lucifer’s tone almost sounds irritated. Like a petulant child, he glares over at his son with an unspoken tension that you would like to delve into much, much later when the important things have been moved out of the way. “These boys have been pretty busy trying to get you back. But we are all eager to know what happened while you were with Seokjin.”

Jungkook places a gentle hand on top of your knee under the table. For whatever reason, you note that his grip feels stronger than you’d grown used to. You’d thought the hug was just because he missed you so much, but even this simple touch was- “He… he found me in the dressing room, cornered me there and told me he’d been trying to get me and Jungkook alone. Somewhere he could really do some damage.” You recite all that you readily remembered, some details slipping as you focus on Jungkook’s touch. Yoongi’s eyes never stop boring into you. “He said a lot. He… he said he wanted to give me a second chance.”

Lucifer raises a brow at you, “At…?”

“Life. He said that if I… if I ratted out Jungkook, he’d work things out with God to set my life back on track. Memories wiped, a new guardian angel, the works.” You can feel Jungkook stiffen next to you.

“And did you take him up on it?” Lucifer inquires.

“No! No, I would… I would never. But he was so insistent… It sounded like he really wanted me to say yes. I don’t think he was planning to betray me if I took him up on it either.”

Lucifer heaves a heavy sigh. Folding his hands underneath his chin, the king of hell spares a glance at Jungkook, “He’s got a thing for innocents: those he believes did no actual harm in a situation. He’s always been soft that way. He has more of an affinity for humans than I ever did, but I have more reason to loathe humans than he does, so I guess it’s understandable.”

“He did… mention that none of this was my fault.”

“Of course! You were only following the path life laid out for you. It was the fallen angel you have beside you that decided to shake things up, and aren’t you lucky he did? It doesn’t surprise me one bit that you’re still alive. You’ve done nothing but suffer the consequences, it seems, against your own will.”

“But what about the demon he fell for? Or his child? Weren’t they killed so he could keep his spot in heaven?”

Lucifer leans forward, “I’m assuming your friends haven’t made it known to you yet, but they aren’t dead. They are both very much alive. In fact, the child in question was one of the people that helped in tracking you down. The mother… she is here, in hell, meant to stay imprisoned for all eternity. Or at least until the rapture,” with that, Lucifer drinks again, maintaining eye contact with your shocked stare, “but it was best that no one knew of their whereabouts. Only a handful of people even know that Inhui still exists. It’s become something of a legend amongst the demons and angels, shrouded in confusion. None of the angels would care for the mother, but the child would start an earthly war if they knew one still walked the earth. As far as they’re concerned, the child probably died from the natural complications of being an abomination.”

You frown, “How is that possible? An angel for every human on earth… that’s billions of angels and no one has even noticed the guy?”

“I was wondering about that, actually. He told us that he’d been walking the earth for a while now. Surely someone would have taken notice, right?” Jungkook speaks next, having abandoned his food entirely.

Yoongi snaps out of his bored stance, “Tae’s an anomaly. He’s forgotten everywhere he goes. His impression barely lasts long. Those people he encountered early on considered him a dream, or a hallucination, or a possession of the mind. His actual presence is… hazy. It’s easier to remember him by his name or his number, but everything else is-”

“Intangible.” His father finishes with a flourish. “No ordinary angel or demon could ever put a face to the name, only a feeling. Along with the rather excessive amount of glamours he employs when amongst the public, it is no wonder no one has sounded the alarm. Go ahead and recall his face in your mind, fallen. I’m sure you couldn’t piece it together even if you wanted to.”

Jungkook’s face screws up a little as an attempt, stricken dumb moments later when he can’t utter a thing. Your stomach churns at the thought, soiling your appetite even more.

It seemed like there was more to that story than you were being told, but you imagined that it would be quite a lot to relay to you in more than one sitting. After all, you still had no clue what you’d missed since you’d been gone, and it only hadn’t terrified you senseless because you were at least certain that the biggest threat to everyone’s lives had been right there with you the whole time.

“If you’re not planning to eat anytime soon, is there anything else you’d like to know? It’s not every day a mortal like you gets to talk to Lucifer.” With a small flourishing wave of his hand, Lucifer smiles at you, charming as ever. It was so strange. Yoongi acted nothing like his father, and yet you saw every bit of him in his expression.

You imagined Yoongi felt the need to distance himself as much as he could from his father’s intimidating image and had ended up creating his own in the process. Where Lucifer was inviting, however, Yoongi was… not for everyone. Even as he stares over the table at you, eyes hooded with what appears to be indifference rather than lasciviousness, you can’t help but see the other in him.

“I suppose not,” you murmur, “but now that I have the chance, I don’t really know what to say.”

Lucifer continues to smile, “Don’t fret! I’m sure after the doozy you’ve been in, you’ll need to rest up. You’re more than welcome to stay here until you feel it’s safe to go back topside.”

The thought of treating hell like a hotel to stay in was tickling to say the least. The minute you rise, Jungkook follows suit, nearly knocking his chair over in the process to follow you. “I’d appreciate that. Is there… perhaps a room I could cool down in? Maybe a bathroom?”

Lucifer had deposited both you and Jungkook in a rather nice room, fitted with all the things you’d find in a nice resort room overlooking somewhere like the Bahamas. The dark, brooding colors of Hell follow you even here, and what little light you are allowed in the room comes from fire or mysterious ambience. Still, it’s enough to splash your face with (what you’re definitely sure is) water in the ensuite bathroom.

Jungkook sits at the foot of the bed, watching you, “I missed you.”

Since the moment that the Lord of Hell and his son had left you to your devices, you’d become increasingly aware that something was off about your angel. You had imagined that it had been from the sheer worry he felt over you, but it was starting to feel different from that. Something not so easily explained. If only… if only you could figure it out.

You pat your skin dry and look over at him, measuring him up and down. Appearance wise, he still had the same haircut, same clothes, same shoes. It was the aura that felt different.

Slowly, you approach him from the bathroom and wish that there would be more light in the room to examine him with. In that same moment, what appeared to be a ray of warm light halos above you both, giving you exactly what you had wished for. When Jungkook looks up, he looks… radiant. “I missed you too…” You whisper, reaching out a hand to cup his jaw. At your touch, he shudders, melting into you, and those eyes then laser focus on your own. “Are you okay?”

“I am now.” He answers without hesitation, then turns to kiss your inner palm with such a sensual drag of his lips that you grow hot instantly. The surprise makes you yank your hand away and you swear you hear him whine at the missing contact.

“Y-You just look different.” You squeak, holding the aforementioned hand to your chest as if he’d burned you.

Jungkook’s bushy brows furrow. “Do I?”

When Jungkook had been an angel, he’d had a distinct glow about him that set him apart from others. It was cliche, but it made sense then. You knew that you were dealing with someone from another world. When he’d turned human, he’d felt softer, normal. He didn’t glow in any particular way lest the light hit him through the window just right. But now… that glow was back. In a way that didn’t feel familiar.

You reach your hand out again, but this time you let it wander. You push his fringe back from his forehead, then behind his ear, then down his neck to where a sweatshirt hides his collarbones. In a daze, you fall to your knees before his seated frame and push the fabric back some. You find… nothing. You don’t even know what you’re looking for. A vampire bite? What is so different?

Your hand starts to fall mindlessly as you wrack your brain, but it’s all for naught when Jungkook catches hold of it and intertwines his fingers with yours. His grip is warm and solid. But it’s still- “I thought he’d hurt you.”

You look back up into Jungkook’s eyes as he now leans over you with an intense stare. His hair curls around his cheekbones and twists away from his face at the nape, each strand fluttering as he inches closer until the longest ones are touching your face. “Not much. He healed what he did anyway.”

At that, your angel’s eyes narrow in their scan over you, “What did he do?”

You instinctively swallow. Perhaps because you remember the feeling. Perhaps because Jungkook looks like he could kill. “He… he had to get me to limbo. He had to…” You touch the skin of your throat the same moment you break eye contact, feeling the ghost of Seokjin’s fingers there. It wasn’t so long ago that it had happened after all. You could honestly still feel it.

The silence grows until it’s nearly unbearable, you eventually finding that Jungkook will say nothing while you continue to avoid his gaze. Against your better judgement, you chance a look up at him.

You don’t get very long to look. Jungkook takes both sides of your face and lunges forward like a man possessed and you are forced to follow. In your surprise, you stumble back onto your elbows and Jungkook slots himself between your legs, latching onto your lips in a searing kiss. It’s hot and fast and immature, the kiss of a person who has never kissed before and may never get the chance to kiss again. Youngho had never kissed you like this.

A gentle whimper escapes your mouth but Jungkook inhales it into his own. You feel something primal burn inside you when Jungkook growls out, crouching over you now like a predator cornering his prey, and he’s practically consuming you when you start to kiss back. Can you blame yourself? You easily fold into the feeling because it’s Jungkook and goddamn if you hadn’t wanted to kiss him badly before.

His inexperience does very little to dissuade from how good it feels too, and as you start to take over to guide him, he is all too eager to feel your reciprocated passion. The heady feeling he gives you in his sudden attack pushes all thoughts of Seokjin or the last few days out of your mind like a fast-acting asprin. All you can think of now is how tightly coiled you’d been and how Jungkook is loosening you up one press of his lips at a time.

He lays you on your back and you happily oblige, no cushioning found on the hard floor but you couldn’t care less. Jungkook is careful not to be too rough, aware of your needs as much as his own, and it’s jarringly sweet the way he cradles the back of your head to keep you from hitting it on your descent.

When he’s had enough of your lips (as if he could ever), he starts attacking your neck. He’s lapping at your skin and biting away as if he’s trying to remove all traces of Seokjin’s hands… as if he’s replacing the feeling with him and him only. “I’ll kill him,” Jungkook whispers, a foreign fury in his voice that makes your haze disappear in an instant while he continues to work at your neck, “I’ll kill him for ever touching you.”

Your hand shoots to his hair, feeling your heart beat faster from more than just the kisses, “Kook-” But any attempt at sobering up washes away when, to your surprise, he ruts against you. Youngho had never been that good at using his hips like that either. There was something definitely off with Jungkook.

As much as it pains you, you grab at his hair and yank back, ignoring (or trying to) the filthy groan that he gives in response before peeling away from your skin. You gasp for breath, absolutely winded, “What is going on?”

Jungkook pants past wet lips, “What do you mean-”

“Did Yoongi do this to you?” The sudden heated moment is over when you say that.

Jungkook’s blood has run cold. You have a very strong, haunting feeling that your mounting suspicions have proven correct. His eyes… as gentle as they always were when they looked at you, told you everything. He was not the same Jungkook you’d come to know. Something had happened to him. Something irreversible. You touch his face again and this time Jungkook does not move to embrace it. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. “Why?”

In an attempt to escape your pitiful gaze, Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut, cutting you off from seeing him vulnerable any longer. It breaks your heart the longer he stays silent. There’s no denying it now.

A tear of his touches the palm of your hand instead of his lips this time, “How else could I protect you?” He chokes, weak, “I’m not your angel anymore. I can’t be like you. This is the only way... the only way I could stand to look you in the eyes again.”

#majwrites #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook au #angel!jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts au #yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagines #yoongi au #demon!yoongi #min yoongi #bts #jungkook angst #yoongi angst #angel bts #demon bts

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belovedrival · 3 years

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“It’s Jonas.”

It’s been almost six months but I did say I would talk about my experience, so here goes...

(It’s really long, I started this draft when Jonas was three months old)

I was told that I would be induced on March 10, a Wednesday. My due date was the 17th but baby had been measuring large for months so my doctor just wanted to go ahead with it. I agreed. We’d made it to 39 weeks and that was good. Plus, I felt huge and just...done with being pregnant.

I worked (from home) on the 10th. It felt sort of surreal, knowing that we’d be at the hospital at 5 pm that evening, but I knew I needed to work to keep my mind off what was coming. For a while, at least.

We’d started packing the hospital bags for weeks before. I’d left my suitcase open next to the bed and I’d throw things in there whenever I’d do laundry or think of something else I wanted to take. I sort of knew then that I was majorly overpacking (and in hindsight it’s laughable how much stuff I never wore/used) but at least we were prepared, right?

Yeah, about that...

Mister drove to the hospital. Since I was being induced, it wasn’t any frenetic, movie scene type, panicked dad experience. We just put our things in the car and drove there. On the way we talked about how strange it was, knowing that when we came home (God willing), there would be a baby in the car seat. Of course at that time we still didn’t know if our baby was a girl or boy.

(Mister told me later that he was almost certain baby was a boy. He said he’d heard too many nurses/medical personnel ‘slip’ while we were having ultrasounds and whatnot.)

People can choose to find out or not, but it puts a whole other dimension on the experience when you don’t know in advance. Just my two cents.

As we turned into the hospital parking lot, Mister told me to open the glove box. “There’s something for you in there,” he said. I opened it, trying to swallow the bowling ball that had lodged itself in my throat.

“Oh!” I said. “What I always wanted - an owner’s manual!”

When I’m nervous, I often joke.

There was a small white box next to the owner’s manual. In it was a necklace with an aquamarine pendant; one of the birthstones for March. Of course I cried.

We took an obligatory selfie before going inside the hospital. After getting checked in, we went to our room. I remember thinking that we’d only be in that room probably a day, and that 24 hours later, we’d be upstairs post delivery.

Ha. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!

I was given a drug to start labor (not pitocin). I’ve always hated needles and so getting an IV was not part of my top 100,000 Things I Love to Do List. Thankfully, the nurse who put it in was really good, so I barely felt anything.

The one major memory of this whole experience (other than Jonas, of course) was how good the nurses were. I am forever grateful to them.

Other than the IV and monitors, Mister having to sleep on the sofa, and me laying on a hospital bed, we could almost trick ourselves into imagining we were staying at some sort of hotel. Almost. For a few hours, anyway.

Wednesday night into Thursday morning was okay. I was feeling persistent pain. It wasn’t terrible, just uncomfortable, and I knew that it was part of the process. I didn’t sleep great but I was able to get some rest.

Around six o’clock there was a shift change, and my nurse for the day came in. Liz had a kind of cheerleader vibe about her, very positive, and in some other circumstances I might’ve found her annoying. But I liked her.

My doctor came in a little after seven and broke my water. That experience was...weird. I mean, it was a new experience for me, so it’s hard to describe. Uh, water is wet, so it was wet? Honestly, the thing I remember the most is that there was some meconium after Doc broke my water, which worried me a little. Baby was doing fine and no one seemed super worried, so I set it aside. I DID think it meant I was guaranteed to have the baby that day. How wrong I was, and not for the first time...

They gave me pitocin after my water was broken. So my contractions increased. It felt more like strong period cramps to me. I should say at this point that I have a high pain tolerance. I don’t know what the same level of contractions would feel like to someone else. Sometimes I was only mildly aware that I was having them.

Probably one of the most annoying things about my entire experience Wednesday/Thursday/into Friday was not being allowed to eat anything. I had ice chips, and water, and Liz managed to get me some Jello. This was actually something of an issue, because I had gestational diabetes, so at first nobody wanted to give me anything except for sugar-free Jello. I did have some of that, but as the day wore on and there wasn’t much progress, Liz talked to somebody and got me some regular Jello. I would’ve preferred something else, but Jello was what I was allowed, so Jello I got.

I...don’t really like Jello. Seriously, like if it’s the only thing, I’ll eat it, but...yeah.

The hours ticked by. Progress was slow. At first I looked forward to Liz and the other nurses coming in and checking me, but by late afternoon, it was clear that things were slooooooow. The best part of Thursday was sometime in the afternoon Liz suggested bouncing on the ball. I was really happy to get out of bed and bounce for a while. After doing that, I decided it was time for the epidural.

I’d decided beforehand I wanted an epidural. As I said, I absolutely hate needles, but I also didn’t want my body to be so stressed that labor couldn’t progress. In the back of my mind, I also thought that if the situation changed, and a c-section became necessary, the epidural would already be in place.

After the epidural was put in, I started shaking on the edge of the bed, tears rolling down my face. Liz was still holding on to me, and Mister was there, and they both asked what was wrong. I couldn’t speak for a minute. It felt a little like I was five years old, still terrified of that darn needle, and all the tension I’d suppressed had to get out somehow.

“It’s okay,” Liz said, giving me a hug. Sometimes that’s all that’s needed. I was sorry to see her go when her shift ended. She said she was working again on Saturday and that she’d stop by to see us after the baby was born, to see what we were having. (She did stop by.)

This was a constant refrain from most of the nurses: upon first coming into the room, and looking at the white board that had my information and seeing next to “Baby” was written “Surprise!!” we inevitably got the question, “You don’t know what you’re having? That’s awesome!”

Getting the epidural made the pain diminish, but it also made things more complicated for me because I couldn’t move. Overnight, a tag team of nurses turned me one way and the other, and checked me.

(I should also mention that all of the staff at the hospital had already been vaccinated, and they all wore masks into the rooms. We did not have to wear masks in the room, but if we went outside it, they were required.)

By Thursday night, both Mister and I were feeling rather discouraged. All day Thursday we’d been told that baby would come “by the afternoon”, then “by the evening”, and then late Thursday, “by Friday morning”. Bear in mind that I’d been on an IV/ induced since roughly six pm on Wednesday.

Maybe this sounds laughable to people who’ve had 72 hour long labors, but I’d been mentally prepared for around 24 hours of labor. My twin sister had been induced with her first, and her labor had gone about that long. Around midnight on Thursday I was feeling pretty discouraged. Mister wasn’t angry but he said (when we were alone) that he felt like the staff had been overly optimistic. I just don’t think either of us had thought about the implications of me being induced without any sign of active labor. In hindsight, I was glad it was done then, but...yeah. Not being mentally prepared for that long of a labor was hard. I felt bad for everyone who was waiting on updates; it felt like literally nothing happened for about thirty hours. Like I think was dilated to five by Friday morning. And effaced? Practically nothing. My cervix wasn’t getting thinner at all.

Early Friday morning, a new nurse started her shift. My first impressions of Diana were...well, I thought, “she’s definitely not as friendly as Liz.” She was more brusque. As I hadn’t slept much Thursday night, and having been in the same situation for over a day, I didn’t care nearly as much about making friends. By that point I was tired - physically, mentally, emotionally.

But Diana was awesome. She got me turned onto my hands and knees, and had me start doing some vigorous exercises, to really move labor along. I was fine with doing whatever she said because I was REALLY ready to be done. So it felt a little like my cross country days in high school, at the finish of a difficult race. I was tired, I wasn’t sure how much I could do physically, but we had a GOAL and dammit, we were going to do everything to get there!

By late morning, even after the exercises, I was still dilated at a five. Hardly effaced at all. After checking me again, Diana left the room. The option of a c-section had been discussed, especially since it was over 24 hours since my water had been broken.

“I think I’m done,” I said to Mister. Even though I’d never really been 100% ‘I want a natural birth experience’, it felt a little like giving up. I started crying again. “I just don’t think this [natural labor] is going to work. I’m done.”

“If you’re done, that’s it,” Mister said. “Tell Diana you want a c-section.”

I have to say something here about Mister. Even though he kept saying he didn’t know what he was doing or how he should support me, he was AWESOME. He supported every decision, and listened to me talk about the different options. For as hard as labor was for me, I think he had a different hard time. All he could do was literally sit there and watch me go through pain and doubt and fear, and comfort me as best he could. He was a great comfort.

(This is why even if thoughtful partners don’t think they’re doing a good job at supporting laboring moms, they most likely are. Their presence is invaluable. For anyone who doesn’t have a supportive partner with them, or an absent one, my profound condolences.)

When Diana came back in, I told her I wanted a c-section. This was around 11 o’clock Friday morning, March 12th. “I agree,” she said right away, patting me on the shoulder. “You’ve done everything you possibly can to get this baby delivered naturally. I trust mom’s instincts on this.”

Her support meant so much. Really, when a veteran nurse says they trust your instinct, how can you not feel better about your decision?

She left to contact my doctor and several other people, and Mister let people know what was going on. At that point I was more relieved that soon it would be over. I wanted to see our baby.

Mister said later that he learned that hospitals have two speeds: 1) we’re in no rush; and 2) something is going to happen NOW. While my c-section wasn’t an emergency, once the decision was made, things did happen fast. Diana brought the anesthesiologist into the room so he could numb me up. As I already had the epidural, this didn’t take very long. After a few minutes of letting the medication work, Bryce asked if I could feel my toes.

“No,” I said. It was weird. I knew I shouldn’t feel them, but I couldn’t help saying, “I’m trying to wiggle them!”

“No, no, it’s good you can’t feel them,” both Bryce and Mister said. I was wheeled out of the labor room a few minutes after that (I was not sorry to leave it) and taken to the OR. Mister went with someone else to take our stuff to the recovery room.

I’ve been in operating rooms before. They aren’t places that make me want to stay there. Bright lights, metal everywhere, many thoughts of what could go wrong...although I will say that all the staff in the OR made me feel confident. I was glad to see my doctor.

I felt better once I was in the OR (the only time in my life I’ve ever felt that way) but it felt like a long time until Mister arrived in there. He’d gone with a member of staff as they took all our stuff to a recovery room, then been taken to the OR. Once he was in place, everything started.

Doctor M had asked me before Mister arrived if he wanted to ‘announce’ was the baby was. I told her that he most likely would, but to ask him. She did, and he said yes, he’d love to do that.

There was a blue sheet in front of me so I really couldn’t see anything that went on - which was PERFECTLY FINE with me.

Obviously, I was flat on my back, and everything below my chest was numb. The doctor and others asked me at various times if I felt anything, and I didn’t (other than tugging and pulling). At one point, I suddenly smelled the unmistakable scent of something burning. “What is that? That burning smell?” I asked, glancing above me (really, behind me) at Bryce, who stood there.

“I’ll tell you later,” he said.

Which immediately told me I didn’t want to know what it was.

Yeah, it was me burning, while the medical staff cauterized me, keeping me from bleeding to death.

(The fact that cesarean sections are major surgery, and regularly happen every day in the United States, is, frankly, a miracle. Everyone hears about the horror stories when something goes wrong, but considering the number of women who go through them without incident, we as a society completely take them for granted.)

As the tugging and pulling continued, and Doctor M said things like, “there’s the head”, the sense of anticipation increased. I’ve never felt anything like it before. Both Mister and I knew any moment we would meet our baby, and after waiting 39 weeks (and eight years before that), it was almost unbearable.

Doctor M said, “Here’s the baby!”

I heard a slight cry, and I looked up at Mister, who sat on my right, holding my hand. He looked down at me and said, “It’s Jonas.”

Even thinking about that moment now brings tears to my eyes. In knowing Mister almost eleven years, I’ve only seen him cry maybe five times. Including this year, on March 12th. We both were bawling, and laughing at the same time, as Jonas VERY loudly screamed his disapproval at being evicted from his warm, cozy space. At one point, Mister, laughing as he cried said, “One of the ---s (our last name) needs to stop crying in here!”

He has a rather husky cry, Jonas does. I loved his cry from the moment I first heard it (though I don’t actually like to hear him cry, if that makes any sense).

As I was sewn up, Mister moved his chair over to where our baby was, under a heat lamp. Then he brought Jonas over to me. My first thought was, he’s HUGE. My second thought was, he was the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen.

He weighed nine pounds, five ounces at birth, and had a fifteen inch head circumference. After I heard that, I knew a natural birth was never going to happen. He was born on Friday the 12th of March, at 1:14 pm. The digital clock on the wall said 13:14, which I thought was cool. And it made it a bit easier to remember the time :)

He had lots of dark hair, which I loved. My sister’s had bald babies, so it was nice to have a different-looking kid. Over the last few months, his hair almost entirely disappeared due to cradle cap, and is coming back in...blond. Genetics!

I can say now that it’s past, that I was more afraid during pregnancy than I could admit to anyone, even Mister. I have always been a worrier, and finally being pregnant after so many years, and being high risk due to my age (and my shunt, and the gestational diabetes...) I was in almost constant worry of something going wrong. First of miscarriage (no one needed to tell me of the statistics regarding older mothers), then of stillbirth, like the cord getting wrapped around baby’s neck, and death happening before delivery could happen. I have heard of at least two different stories of that happening to pregnant women in the ninth month - friends of friends of mine - and the fear of that, or something else equally catastrophic happening was, at times, almost crippling. I would’ve preferred to have never been pregnant at all rather than suffer a miscarriage or stillbirth.

Perhaps it sounds childish, but mentally I didn’t think I was strong enough to have the dream of motherhood dashed, when every day of pregnancy brought that dream closer. I was (and still am) too much of a realist to ignore the statistics; I couldn’t pretend I was 22 and have a blissfully ignorant uneventful pregnancy. To this day, even after giving birth to a healthy baby, one of the biggest things that will set me off is the assumption that way too many people have. “We’re planning on getting pregnant soon.” “Just have kids, you’ll understand.” “I can take you out and make one just like you.” [a redneck phrase I’ve heard being said to a misbehaving child]

Not many of us can “plan” on getting pregnant exactly when we want to - or even within a year’s time. Not all of us can “just have kids” - they’re not like going to the store and getting a gallon of milk. (I recognize the privilege of living in a society where going to the store and expecting fresh milk can also sound arrogant to those who don’t live in one.) ‘Take out’ a kid (even said in jest), and ‘make another one’? I MIGHT have another child in the next couple years. More likely, I won’t. Not all of us can just get pregnant at the drop of a hat. (That’s assuming the one wanting to get pregnant even has a male partner or sperm donor at the ready...some never find that person to have a child with. And adoption can be a great thing, but not everyone is cut out for it. Shaming infertile and childless people for not wanting to adopt is disgusting.)

I was open with my OB-GYN about my fears during pregnancy and she referred me to several resources, and monitored me for PPD. My best friend’s son died in March 2020, a year before Jonas was born (though Billy had severe disabilities which made his death a certain thing), and my sister had had a stillborn son in August 2019 (my nephew Christian). So Jonas being born healthy was a huge relief for me. I can’t really describe the relief, except to say that as much physical weight I gained during pregnancy, letting go of the weight of the worry was felt even more deeply than losing the pounds since his birth (and I’ve haven’t lost all of that).

I will probably always worry about *something*, when it comes to Jonas. He gave me a scare earlier this week, rolling off the couch before I could catch him. He’s fine...and the incident scared me more than it scared him. But every day since he was born is a reminder of the gift he is, and I hope I never lose sight of that, even on the frustrating days (and there have been those over the last almost six months, and there will be more to come).

If you ever wanted children, and are fortunate enough to have them, cherish them. Be grateful for them, even when they drive you up the wall. Even when you only want three minutes’ peace, and they won’t give it to you. Love them anyway. I try to.

#this was heavier than i thought it would be #don't get me wrong #i had a good experience overall #nurses are awesome #nurses #hospital #birth #birthday #march 12 #jonas #2021 #life #real life #family #me and mister #mister #he's great #pregnancy #parenthood

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sapphirewolf1122 · 4 years

Text

Coming in, Fat

Summary: All you want to do is use your quirk to help others. But sometimes, you go a little overboard.

Word Count: 1, 477

A/N: Sorry, got distracted by another project and didn’t finish my research in time to post this yesterday! But on the bright side, put together a wedding compilation video that I meant to do like three months ago! Anywho, this is just a scene that came from a convo I had with my sister about someone who had a quirk that let them manipulate their fat all around their body and, potentially, others. Which led to the idea of her swatting Fat Gum clear across a room...soooo, here ya ago. My sister may post a romantic version of this but I don’t wanna tag her and call her out like that. Thanks for reading and hope you like it!

“One bowl of miso ramen, topped with ajitama and negi, please. Oh, and ten onigiri, all tuna.”

The vendor eyed you doubtfully; you had distributed your fat pretty evenly today so you appeared to have a fairly thin figure. “Where you planning on putting all that food?”

“Food powers my quirk, so I have a heartier appetite than you might think,” you said with a smirk.

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, the vendor got to preparing your order. Soon, you were walking down the street, munching on one of your rice bowls. You had eaten the ramen by the vending cart before starting your patrol.

You hummed contentedly as you reached into your food bag for another rice bowl, though you still kept a sharp eye on the surrounding streets. There had been a rise in crime in this district recently so you’d decided to check it out. The one that was part of your usual patrol route had been very quiet lately, so you’d grown bored with it. Though your chest swelled with pride at the thought that you’d been part of the reason it had quieted down so much.

Your friends over at Naruhata had advised against patrolling out of your own town, saying that it led to a greater chance of getting caught red-handed. But you had brushed off their concerns. Disguising yourself was a specialty of yours after all.

Reaching into the bag again, your mind wandered back to when you were still in school. Many had been quite envious of your quirk, especially the girls. But no one had ever considered it worthy of hero work. Not even your parents, who had refused to let you even attend the hero course entrance exam at your local high school. To them, your quirk was all about looks.

Which reminded you. Stopping to look at yourself in a shop window, you squinted, thinking about what to do with your features today. You didn’t want to be too recognizable after all. Hm…you’d go more masculine today. Your profile had you pegged as female, so assuming a male look would really throw them off.

Concentrating, you broaden your shoulders and maneuver some fat into your face so that your features were a bit more rugged. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much you could do about your height. But you found that it often worked to your advantage anyway. Thugs didn’t normally expect those who were smaller than them to beat them up so much. In fact, it sometimes became a bit of an issue…

You’re too hot-headed and brash with your quirk. And that’s what’s gonna get you in a load of trouble one day.

Tch. Hot-headed...it’s not hot-headed if they had it coming. They're the ones who decided to pick a fight. You were completely reasonable. Satisfied with your disguise, you pulled up your hood and turned to continue your patrol.

Only to be knocked back as a body slammed into you, causing you to drop your food as you landed on your behind. Dumbfounded, you stared at the scattered contents. None of the remaining rice balls were salvageable. You heard the person mumble something but that didn’t stop your vision from filling with red. What kind of monster exhibited such a nonchalant and wasteful attitude towards food?

Whipping around to the rapidly retreating figure, you watched as they turned down a side street. As they did, you thought you saw the glint of a weapon in their hand. Your eyes widened. Could this person be a villain in more ways than one?

Rushing to your feet, you chased after them, rounding the corner to the side street to find that it was relatively deserted. The villain was a ways ahead; you wouldn’t be able to catch up by running after them. Good, you hated running.

Leaping into the air, you rapidly directed the majority of your fat into your legs, concentrating them around certain muscles for the most effective energy absorption. As you landed, you used the accumulated fat to send you springing forward again, this time higher and further than before. In fact, you may have overshot it a bit…

Suddenly, a yellow mass appeared in front of you with a yell. Unable to stop your fall at this point, you crashed into them, fully expecting both of you to go tumbling. Except...you didn’t? You’d barely registered that you were actually sinking into them before you shot back out.

As you flew back, your mind was racing. There was only one person who could’ve done that...only one hero.

You landed hard on the pavement. It took a lot of quick quirk improvisation on your part to keep you from getting too banged up; you managed to absorb most of the energy by concentrating your fat at key impact points. Still, you were left quite stunned once your tumble session was over.

Staring up at the sky, you had pretty much forgotten about the villain as your brain tried to process who had just launched you across the street.

Could it really be him? What district was this again? You weren’t on his patrolling grounds, were you? How could you not know if it were his patrolling grounds? No, there was no way. You would totally know if you had a chance of running into Fa—

“Hiya.” A big, grinning face in a yellow hood appeared above you.

“Gah, Fat Gum!” You practically jumped out of your skin as you rolled upright.

“Sure am. You all right there? Seemed like a pretty nasty tumble.”

“I-I’m fine.”

The BMI Hero: Fat Gum, the pro hero whom you admire more than any other, cocked his head. “Yeah, looks like it. Got some sort of absorption quirk? What was that jump you just made? Y’know using your quirk in public is illegal right; if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were chasin’ that guy. Actaully, you seem kinda familiar…”

Fat Gum recognized you?!

Before your mind could spiral any further on what that could mean, you heard a shout behind you. Turning, you saw a red-headed boy holding onto the guy who had knocked you over.

“Hey Fat, I got ‘im! Didn’t put up much of a fight. That other hero okay? That sure was a manly jump!” He gave you a sharp-toothed grin.

“Good job, Red. Detain him til the cops can get here. And all good here; was actually just about to ask our friend some questions. For one, they ain’t no hero.”

Crap, that didn’t sound good. “I...uh…” You started to back away but froze when Fat Gum placed his hand on your shoulder.

“In fact, looks like we got ourselves the vigilante, Futoi. She’s normally pretty hard to catch since she can manipulate her looks with her quirk but it seems she’s used up her excess fat.”

At his remark, you automatically went to touch your face to find that he was right. Your disguise had melted away due to the lack of fat left in your body. You felt a spark of your anger from before come back; this is why you’d needed those rice balls!

“Now young lady, please come with me. You’re wanted for several counts of illegal quirk use.”

Shaking off his hand, you backed away with a shake of your head. “I just use my quirk to help people! To help heroes like you catch the bad guys!”

Fat Gum’s smile seemed to soften. “While that is very noble of you, without a license, that is considered the work of a vigilante.”

“It’s not my fault my quirk wasn’t deemed worthy of one,” you scowled, aware that you sounded rather bitter.

“Perhaps not, but that doesn’t negate the fact that you’ve performed illegal actions and for that—”

Fat Gum had started to reach for you again but, panicked, you swung at him, using his own excess fat to your advantage to send him flying. He crashed into a wall, blinking at you in surprise. Both you and Red Riot stared after him in shock. You recovered your senses first though and turned to sprint away.

Holding back tears, you mentally yelled at yourself. You attacked Fat Gum! Your hero role model! You had dreamed of joining his agency if you ever managed to obtain a license. Now you had made sure that would never happen. Ugh, Koichi would never let you hear the end of this.

~~~~~~~

Back in the alley, Fat Gum still lay among the rubble where he had landed, staring after you in shock. Kirishima rushed towards him, dragging the unconscious thug with him.

“Fat, you okay?! How could she send you flying like that?”

It was several moments before Fat answered. “Someone get that girl a license and sign her up for my agency immediately. Also, find me some takoyaki, will ya?”

~~~~~~~

A/N2: Yes, I know, I wasn’t very original with the vigilante name...but I like names to have meaning and I feel like Reader wouldn’t have really put much thought into it.

I tried to incorporate a few references to the Vigilante series; that was actually what my extra research was, haha. Wasn’t til after I wrote up the first draft of this that I remembered that Fat Gum literally featured in the series about vigilantes. Obviously, this is set a lot further down the timeline than where the current volumes are at.

Finally, if anyone has any name suggestions for the fic, I’m open to recommendations. Thank you again for reading!

#bnha #boku no hero #boku no hero academia #boku no hero fanfic #my hero academia #mha #Kirishima Eijirou #bnha kirishima #bnha eijiro kirishima #fatgum #bnha fat #bnha fatgum #vigilante #bnha vigilantes #bnha taishiro #reader #fatgum x reader #no romance

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beebleboosuwu · 4 years

Text

Fic: Took My Days With You

I originally posted this on AO3 but wanted to share this with y’all:

There’s one thing that she hated the most about herself:

The fact that she grew up.

Lydia didn’t want to, but that was a part of life. She left fifteen years ago to pursue her dream career of becoming a photographer. Her success with that led to her becoming an author and multiple of her publications became New York Times hits. Her autobiography came soon after, and people were enthralled by her life story. Obviously she had to leave out the... interesting bits of her teenage years other than telling her audience that she lived in a house where the previous tenants died and telling them that she could feel their presence everywhere she went in that house. And she told her story to all who would listen, they seemed to enjoy it claiming that it was all in the name of fiction but to her it was real. When she left, all five of her family members waved farewell and wished her the best of luck. Delia and Charles helped her pack, Adam and Barbara made provisions and supplies for her trip and Beetlejuice, the sentimental bastard, waited and bid farewell to her on the roof where they met. But one devastating phone call from Skye sent Lydia into a panicked frenzy, she hurriedly left her home of Salem, Massachusetts to Winter River, Connecticut. With her car supplied for only a week's worth of clothes, and now 40 years old, she returned to her home. She was always nearby, and never too far from her family, she didn’t have the heart to go that far.

Lydia drove past the sign of Winter River with a somber look on her face, her black convertible rolling down the familiar town. The town didn’t change much, it was still a small town and the nostalgia factor was striking a hard chord in her. She couldn’t stop the wetness running down her cheeks though.. This is where she grew up and now…. it’s gone..

Not like gone, but in the more ‘this no longer feels like home’ vibe. She had a home and lost that one with the death of her mother, but she rebuilt a new one with a second set of (ghost) parents and a strange and unusual best friend. Lydia could see it in the distance, a raggedy looking building faded with age. The surrounding hill hasn’t changed, other than the fact that her dad actually pulled through with that gated community deal with a different partner other than that snob Maxie Dean. It was a nice area though, multiple houses lined the way to her house, or rather the ‘flagship model home’ her dad nicknamed it so long ago.

She pulled up to the driveway, taking note of the dead vegetation around the property. She hasn’t been back in years, and it certainly has seen better days. The paint was chipping off from the wind, and there wasn’t even a strong breeze blowing. No one has lived here for a couple years either. Her father and stepmother died 3 years ago and she never got the chance to return to Winter River. She was always so busy, and whatever time she had to herself, she would throw herself into her work. Always working on the next big thing that her fans would enjoy.

The windows had been covered with wood and the door was left wide open. Multiple cans of bear and graffiti littered the front porch and the front door. Lydia was afraid to enter in, not because of the ghosts that she hoped were still in there, but how empty it looks from the outside.

She left her things in a hotel already and chose to come straight here rather than getting some rest. The hotel manager so it seem, was a big fan of Lydia’s and asked if she was going to return to her house that she used to live in. Rather than disclose that information, she said no. He said it was a shame what happened to her old house, it fell out of repair and no matter how many times realtors wanted to sell it, no one would buy it. According to the locals, no one would buy and live In a house that is haunted by its old occupants. It also became a place that was frequented by juveniles to get a good scare from this place. Which did work cause they claimed that some monster always chased them out. She knew who it was and the reason for Skye’s call:

The monster sightings and other weird stuff happening in her old house suddenly ceased.

The porch creaked beneath her feet, as if the wood would snap at any moment. Normally the Maitlands would come rushing out and greet her at the door and Beetlejuice would be in the living room watching whatever he wanted to, but there was nothing, and that definitely made Lydia pause her advancement towards the rickety old house. Her nose wrinkled from the old, wet, wood smell emanating from the house.

Lydia trudged on anyway and went past through the threshold, and what she saw saddened her. The roof had given out at one point and that pile of wood was tucked away to the side. The living room was a mess, riddled with dust and more garbage thrown around. And call her crazy for keeping it, but the sculpture that she used to stab Beetlejuice with was knocked over. The stand was crushed to smithereens and the pole and the adorning head piece laid far away. The pole was resting by the fireplace and the spiky headpiece was near the base of the stairs. Multiple photos of herself and her family were callously left on the floor, leaving the glass frame shattered and the photos caked with grime.

“Adam? Barbara?” Lydia called out to the empty house, “Lawrence?” her demon adopted brother would usually hiss at her for using his first name, and she got no response from her ghost parents or Beetlejuice. “Anyone home? It’ me, Lydia!” She called again, but only the echoing tones of her voice reached her.

She entered the kitchen next, leaving her just as devastated. The stove had been ripped out of the wall and the table was smashed to pieces, knives, pots and other cooking utensils were scattered on the island, sink and counter tops. the backdoor to the garden was no better. The door hung off its hinges and the backyard was full of dead grass and weeds, like the entire life of the house just disappeared.

Scared of what that entailed, she rushed towards the staircase and climbed up it without disregard. The hand rail fell off the moment she touched it but ran up, ignoring the protesting groans of the wood. She had to know.

She had to.

The hallway was filled with odd bits and bobs of the rooms, a smashed mirror was on the floor, a mattress was laid against the wall, pieces of metal stuck out from the mattress too. Making it seem that someone repeatedly stabbed the thing multiple times. Lydia cautiously stepped around the debris to head towards the door to the attic and out of all things that were destroyed, the door was the only one that looked like it hadn't been touched.

With hope rejuvenating her system, she busted down the door only to find no one inside. The attic was an absolute mess, the room was torn inside and out. Barbara and Adam’s bed was ripped to shreds, the love seat’s ripped and the fluff from inside the cushions were strewn along the floor, Adam’s model town was no longer here and Barbara’s clay pots lay shattered on the shelves. The window opening to the roof is left wide open causing a draft into the room. There was a small pile of clothes in the middle of the room, all looking like it was haphazardly thrown there.

“Adam? Barbara? Beej?” Lydia pleaded to the open air that one of them are still around. “Please, I’m here!” Now she couldn’t stop the tears from forming, “Beetlejuice? Ghost-mom? Ghost-dad? Where are you?!” Lydia started to feel the adrenaline and panic flood into her system, she frantically went to every nook and cranny of the attic throwing anything that might have obscured a hiding ghost, but no luck. There was no trace of the ghost couple and the green haired demon here. Her tearful gaze turned towards the roof, she checked every room of the house and no one responded to her calls.

The cold, crisp autumn air embraced her once more.. The weathervane rusted beyond recognition and the barriers between the edge of the roof and the solid ground she stood on were missing, most likely they were the things stabbed into the mattress. A hoarse scream left her throat and Lydia sunk onto her knees clutching her chest.

They were gone… She was alone, again. Forsaken. Invisible.

Her family has been scattered to the winds, Dad and Delia have expired, only days apart the doctor said. Lydia alone paid for the funeral and their gravesites to be dug, she didn’t return to Winter River. Instead she went straight into her work and wrote a hit, “The Demon Among Us.” It was about her experience with a literal demon, but over analytical professors and English majors chalked up her demon character (Beetlejuice) and said it was a personification of depression. Which would have been awesome… if that was what she wrote about.

Adam and Barbara were nowhere to be found, and the house they loved so much was falling apart. Their precious items, littering the lawn to the backyard to the front yard. If they could see what had happened, they would be surely hopeful and ready to fix it.

Beetlejuice didn’t appear instantly when she called his name, and since Juno was eaten by that Sandworm… Beetlejuice never had a problem with saying his name or getting anyone to say it. He did mention there was a slight tug from the after effects of the curse being lifted, but other than that he said it was manageable.

Lydia cried onto the roof tiles, the family she had built… vanished.

She pounded the ground, cursing herself for not making time, screaming that her life was taken away from her hands again. This was worse than when Emily died, back then she had her father to talk to about things like this. Delia would give insight of finding distractions to move past grief.. While Barbara and Adam gave Lydia a shoulder to cry one whenever she was upset. Beetlejuice made her laugh again and even though he was dead, or born-dead, he made her see that life is worth living. That even if it is a struggle, she could pull through.

Now they were not here, her decaying memories and odd photos of the family were the only things that helped remind her that they existed and were real to her.

“Lydia?”

Lydia turned around to find the familiar stench and sight of her black and white striped demon best friend. She gasped, got up and ran towards her friend. The demon had his arms wide open for her to collide into which she crashed into wholeheartedly.

“Beetlejuice…” she cried into his lapel.

“Heya scarecrow.. nice to see ya. You’ve changed.” Beetlejuice shakily rubbed her back.

“And you haven’t,” she let go to take a good look at him, “Oh Beej, your hair.”

Beetlejuice sadly smiled, his hair being a deep purple with even darker blue tips, his dress shirt was tinged purple too. She now got a better look at him, his face, stained with tears and wrinkle lines dominated his forehead. His eye bags were heavy as if he didn’t sleep for a long time. “I know.” He replied, “Things happened when you were away.”

“What happened?”

“The Maitlands…” His breath hitched. “They’re gone.”

Lydia stared at Beetlejuice and waited for the punchline. This was Beetlejuice, he was a prankster. Lydia laughed a little.

“You’re joking right?” She playfully shoved him, “They probably moved to the Netherworld, did you check there?”

“I checked… They aren’t.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious. They’re gone… Adam, Barbara… They vanished.” Beetlejuice rubbed his shoulder, “I’ve searched the Netherworld top and bottom, they aren’t there.”

Lydia stood dumbfounded, staring at Beetlejuice with wide-eyes.

“Here, I’ll tell ya what happened.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2 years ago

The couple scared off its next batch of kids that thought it was cool to party when the Maitlands were around still, haunting their now decaying house. Beetlejuice hung around giving the ghastly couple tips on what could be scary for these new kids coming in and trashing their house. Delia and Charles passed peacefully during a trip at their vacation spot in Lake Tahoe. They never got to go to the funeral, but letters addressed to Lydia were mailed here. Offering condolences to her and informing any other occupants that the Deetz couple have passed away.

The house quickly fell in disarray, Barbara and Adam couldn’t step outside the house in fear of being teleported to Saturn and being eaten by a Sandworm, so the plant life outside died. Beetlejuice tried to revitalize the plants by gardening, but nothing he did made the grass green again and the plants to grow. Barbara and Adam tried their best to coach Beetlejuice but the pants wouldn’t grow. Nothing was growing in the house.

At one point, during a cold winter, the three had become a throuple. Barbara initially asked Beetlejuice if he was interested, and with Adam’s happy smile, the three became a relationship. They slept on the same bed, kept each other company, and scared everyone who dared enter their territory. They kept the house unoccupied in hopes of Lydia returning one day.

But she never did.

One day when Beetlejuice was finishing scaring off a particular group of kids who seemed impervious to his usual tactics, returned to the attic to celebrate another successful spook, only to find no one there. Thinking it was a joke, Beetlejuice playfully rummaged through the attic to find his partners. Nothing. The roof was next and still: nothing. He checked all points of the house and each empty room he entered, he got more worried and scared that they have been abducted into the Netherworld by one of Beetlejuice’s enemies. After Juno, a lot of Netherlings seemed to come after Beetlejuice. He easily deflected them off but now if they came after the people he loved then there would be hell to pay.

He investigated the attic once more to see if there was any sign of struggle but there was nothing. Not even evidence of a door being open to the Netherworld. He checked anyway, he drew his passageway to the Netherworld and entered. Beetlejuice asked multiple people if they have seen the couple anywhere, and all of them have said they haven’t. Even Miss Argentina said she never saw them, and they were decades past their date of death. If they came through to the Netherworld, she would’ve seen them.

Beetlejuice returned to the house with a broken heart, and fearing the worst, he thought they were done with life. Done with him, and teleported themselves to Saturn for suicide. But that didn’t sit right with him, Adam and Barbara said they loved him. That they cared for him, was that all a lie?

Beetlejuice transported himself to Saturn to search for his partners, and when a Sandworm started following him and nudging at his palm, he concluded that Sandy was the one who followed him and consumed the Maitlands. At first he was furious, hair flushed a deep red and yelled at the Sandworm to spit out the couple, if he was there early enough they could be still alive within the Sandworm. Sandy tilted her head to the side like a dog, confused why Beetlejuice was yelling at her.

He continued to berate the worm into telling him where they are, but Sandy only stared with puzzlement.

Beetlejuice cried and begged Sandy to show him where they at least ended up so he could say goodbye on top of their graves, she agreed and took both Beetlejuice and herself back to the attic. She shrunk and dragged herself to the middle of the attic and curled around herself.

Beetlejuice finally understood.

The Maitlands have… died, again.

After some time, if they don’t go to the Netherworld, ghosts usually fade into nothingness. He has seen it a couple times, and all of them writhed and squealed with pain. It was sudden too, you never know when it will happen. Beetlejuice had gotten enthralled with the prospect of being loved for the first time that he forgot about this and he paid the price.

He then let an anguished cry, and laid on top of the floor. He was unable to hold them as they reduced to ash and disappeared into the void. He scratched the floor and roared. The entire house shook, and he left the attic in a flurry of rage and grief. Beetlejuice tore through each room, tearing it asunder and plowing it of all memory of a happy family within each wall. He grabbed the metal spikes from the roof and stabbed them into a mattress, he tore the oven out of the kitchen wall and threw it out the door. He brought his fist through the table and slit his arms with the knives over and over again. Causing them to bleed over and over again. He smashed Delia’s sculpture next, throwing each piece to the opposite ends of the room. He returned to the attic and smashed Barbara’s pottery and set Adam’s model ablaze.

He blamed them, he blamed himself for falling in love, he blamed their stupidity for not heading to the Netherworld when they had a chance, he blamed the universe. Cursing it. It took away his happiness and he would burn down the world to force people to feel how he felt.

But he couldn’t, it would dishonour their names. It would dishonour his love to them, he won’t hurt anyone. He’ll scare off anyone who comes nearby the grieving demon.

People started coming in troves everyday, and it was fulfilling at first… But without them, it meant nothing. Beetlejuice became defeated, each scream never satisfied him as much anymore. Not without them.

He collected a pile of Adam and Barbara’s clothing and placed them in the middle of the attic floor and he would sleep on it, and he would dream the sweetest dreams. Adam and Barbara cuddling him and making him feel loved. He would dream of everyone, Barbara, Charles, Delia, Adam and Lydia having a great time. He would dream of Christmas parties and softer moments with his partners. Sometimes he dreamt of memories, a kiss there, a fleeting touch, a smell from Barbara’s perfume and Adam’s cologne would linger in the air when he suddenly woke.

He always woke up crying, knowing that he’ll never have them again.

And one day, he wrote a note:

To the Maitlands,

For the past couple of months I haven’t been able to sleep much or if not, not sleeping at all. I mean, I already had problems sleeping but with your disappearance, it got worse. By all means, this does not seem like I am pointing fingers or blaming anyone… Although it is easy to blame someone for something.. I loved and still love you guys. I still do… I mean it, one hundred percent. All those little kisses we shared, stay with me everyday. Any place I want to be, I want you guys here with me. With you guys, my whole undead life found meaning again. My world, my days, my nights, my hopes, my dreams, was there in front of me and I didn’t do anything about it. This place fills me sorrow, and I can’t bear being here without you two.

Thinking back, you had grand ideas and many stories that the world should’ve heard. All the things you’ve told me were fascinating. All those conversations we’ve had will always be in my memories. Even forgotten, they will be there.

Each day it is depressing to know that I’ll never get to see you two ever again. You guys had so many things to do, and I was left with those broken hopes and dreams. I’ll never get to see your happy faces and feel the same happiness you two gave me, this hurts beyond human and even demon comprehension.

You know, all the time I ever smile and laugh, I instantaneously frown and have a huge wave of sadness run over me. The thought of: “why are you happy? You don’t deserve to be happy.” shut me down. Even with the sweaters and photos left behind, it has both given me great relief and immense sadness. Cause it is a constant reminder that you’re not here with me.. Selfish as it is, I just wished I would’ve spent one more day with you. And I would do anything to have that one last day.

I am haunted with each day that passes. Most, if not all, of my dreams always have you in them. I see you, I hear you, I feel you. When I wake, I loathe to get out of bed. Cause I want to be with you, even if it was just a dream.

Countless memories flood my mind each night before I sleep. From the time I harassed you two, and to the time where we three fell in love. I am overcome with joy and sadness when thinking with those memories. And I’m sad I can’t make more with you. I don’t sleep until 3 or even 5 AM because the thought of seeing you in my dreams puts me in great agony and some nights I lay in anticipation for you to come barreling to my room saying that more breathers have entered the house.

I’m sorry that I’m saying all of this now that you’re gone. I’m sorry I think about you every night. I’m sorry for my brash and lewd nature. I’m sorry that I didn’t make enough time for you two. I’m sorry that I didn’t try hard enough. And I know I am apologizing for nothing but it hurts. Everything hurts. Everyday I’m putting on a mask to hide my emotions because I’m afraid.

I will never stop looking for you in this house. I will never stop hearing your booming laughter in these hallowed halls. I will never take down your photos. I will never stop being your friend and lover.

Everyone knew that there was something wrong with all three of us being dead and all… You two knew what was wrong with me, and I to you. We comforted each other at times, You guys were smart. Funny. Talented and beautiful. And undeniably sexy. A couple with hearts of gold.

I love and miss you guys,

Beetlejuice wrote multiple letters that he left scattered to the winds, and everyday he thought it was all a nightmare and he would wake up to find them on top of him smiling their bright smiles at him. But no, he would wake up to empty air and breathers rummaging around the house. Beetlejuice kept the door to the attic shut and would lock each time a breather would try to pick the lock.

He hoped that they would walk in through a portal from the Netherworld and make him feel better but it never happened. Days passed, weeks, months and eventually a year.

He laid unmoving from the pile of clothes, until a voice called out to the empty house.

“Adam? Barbara? Lawrence? Anyone home? It’s me-“

It was Lydia.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At one point during his retelling, Lydia and Beetlejuice went to the roof and sat on the edge just like they used to do. They cried together, comforted each other. Lydia hugged Beetlejuice when he stopped to catch his panicking breath, and returned it to Lydia when she curled into herself. They stayed like that for minutes and finally moved when Lydia stood.

She wiped her eyes, “Beej we have to leave. It’s not healthy for us to stay here,” she looked over to the setting sun. “I rented a place here for a week, it would be nice if I had a friend with me,” Beetlejuice opened his mouth but was cut off by Lydia, “I know, I want to stay here too, grab a picture of them and grab a piece of their clothing and maybe find their perfume and cologne”

“But what if they come back?” Beetlejuice asked her, with desperate hope in his eyes.

“I… wouldn’t bet on it Beej,” she sadly replied, “Here I’ll help you grab some stuff.”

Lydia headed back towards the house with Beetlejuice following. They grabbed one of Adam’s green flannels and one of Barbara’s oversized coats. During her time in this house, she found a way to take a picture of the ghost couple, and Beetlejuice took the family photo and stuffed it within his suit pocket. Barbara’s perfume and Adam’s cologne was stuffed in a closet that was full of their junk, Lydia quickly did a search on her phone. Luckily enough, the companies that made the perfume and cologne still made them.

Their treasures in hand, they headed towards Lydia's car in silence. They both got in and headed towards the hotel.

“Wait, before night falls, I have to show you something.” Lydia quickly made a detour, and reared towards the graveyard.

“Lyds, the graveyard?” He asked incredulously.

“Just wait, I came here once and discovered something. Got that letter with you still?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You’ll see.” Lydia smiled at her demon best friend.

They pulled into the parking lot and Lydia frantically left her vehicle, yakking at Beetlejuice to come after her. She has been here before and quickly went down the path. During the ride, Beetlejuice had changed into Adam’s flannel and donned Barbara’s coral coat. It was warm underneath, and he could still smell them.

“M….” Lydia scanned through the multiple rows. “Here! Lawrence come on!”

Beetlejuice slowly trudged down the path, meeting Lydia at two gravestones. Two gravestones, engraved with the Maitland’s names. A little poem alternating between the two headstones:

Warm summer sun,

Shine kindly here,

Warm southern wind,

Blow softly here.

Green sod above,

Lie light, lie light.

Good night, dear heart,

Good night, good night.

Beetlejuice immediately seized and collapsed to his knees, hugging the two marbled stones.

“I’ll be in the car if you need anything,” Lydia rubbed his shoulder and left Beetlejuice there crying.

“Thank you Lydia.” Beetlejuice looked at her with sad eyes.

Lydia nodded and walked away, her boots digging into the gravel path, the sound retreating as she got further and further away.

Beetlejuice rubbed the gravestones longingly, hoping that wherever they ended up that they might feel his soothing touch. Lydia brought him here to say goodbye and to leave the letter he wrote.

He couldn’t do It right away, but opted to sit there a little while longer. It seemed like ages went by but he knew that Lydia would be in the car and she had to go to bed and eat sometime. He’d hate to leave but he could always teleport here anytime. Beetlejuice bit down on his thumb, biting down hard enough to make it bleed. Knowing a rune that he had learned as a child, smeared his blood on Adam and Barbara’s grave. A triangle and three circles on each point and then a small inverted heart in the middle. He’s going to come here often.

Beetlejuice summoned a bouquet of flowers for each of them.

For Adam:

Rosemary

A Crimson Rose

Purple Hyacinth

Red Carnation

For Barbara:

Pink Carnation

Primrose

Sweet Pea

Forget-me-nots

He placed them and stood up, but before he would forget, he dug a little hole where he stuffed his letter in. They wouldn’t read it, but having it nearby their graves made it feel like that would.

He returned to the car soon after, and let himself in. Lydia had it running and was ready to go when he got in.

“Thanks again,” Beetlejuice said softly.

“You needed closure and you can always come back,” Lydia leaned over her seat and hugged her best friend again. “I’ll miss them everyday.” She sighed. Beetlejuice nodded his head in agreement, it was a small movement but nonetheless it was seen. His hair throughout this entire interaction has never reverted to its usual green, staying on that deep purple and blue. Lydia let go and drove to her hotel.

It will never be the same for Beetlejuice ever again, he loved them and knows he’ll never see them again and will never feel that same love again. Sure, Lydia is his best friend, but nothing would fill that void left in his unbeating heart after today. Lydia reassured him that time heals all wounds and even she missed her dead mom, dad and step-mom but it got easier when she met people like Beetlejuice to make her feel better. He had a little flutter in his chest but paid no mind to it. He wished that he didn’t have to live this cursed world, but having good company made it worth the while.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They watched the car drive past the graveyard gates from up above, tears flowing down their faces. They didn’t want to fade away but that’s the next progression of their after life. They initially believed that the Netherworld was definitely the end, but here? The Aether was just as everyone imagined it to be, like the Netherworld, they were forbidden to interact with the realms but they could watch whenever and whom ever they pleased.

This made Adam and Barbara so happy. They loved Beetlejuice and it broke their hearts seeing him mope for months until Lydia stopped by. They wanted to hug them but it was not allowed.

“Thank you Beetlejuice, we love you.” Barbara whispered.

“Lawrence, I’ll never forget you.” Adam wiped away a tear from his face.

#beetlejuice #betelgeuse #beetlejuice broadway #beetlejuice the musical #lydia deetz #charles deetz #delia deetz #adam maitland #barbara maitland #goldenbeetle #beetlelands #fanfic #fanfiction

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thisisallthehattersfault · 3 years

Text

Write With Me - From Concept To Finished Draft part 4

(I know the last one was tagged as 3/3 and I said I’d see you guys at the end of the month but shhhhhh don’t worry about that.) So. Writing is hard. I know we all know that, but it always bares repeating. Writing is hard, and despite knowing exactly what happens in this fic, in what order, and why, I haven’t gotten a single word written for it. This happens to me sometimes -- I am super depressed and very unmedicated and it’s not unheard of for me to feel find myself in a situation where I have all the tools I need to succeed but just can’t seem to complete the task. So. Since just sitting down to write isn’t working, we’re gonna switch tactics.

Our skeleton gave us the major points of each chapter, and noted the important events that needed to take place. There is, however, still some empty space -- dialog and descriptions and actual scenes -- that need to be filled in. Yanno, the actual writing. Since I can’t seem to get any of that writing done, I’m gonna try something else.

Sometimes when I’m having a hard time getting proper writing done, I’ll do this thing I call “scripting.” Scripting is basically a very bare bones version of the chapter I’m working on. It’s not proper writing because I’m not worrying about descriptions, word choice, or sometimes even dialog, I’m just writing a step by step of what happens. Think of it kind of like the snowflake method -- you start with the simplest possible description of your novel, then gradually turn one sentence into a paragraph, into a page, into a dozen pages, into a book. In this case, I’ll be doing that for at least the first chapter and probably all ten, if this depressive episode keeps up as long as I think it’s probably gonna. Alright, let’s break it down. Here’s what I decided for chapter one when I made the skeleton.

Spinner is on the run from Overhaul’s goons. The setting and Spinner’s goal of tracking down and joining Stain are established. He’s nearly captured and dragged back to the freakshow when he literally runs into Shigaraki.

Now I need to stretch this out into a script. Lemme see.

Cold open, Spinner sprinting through a city in the dead of night. He rushes into a busy street and is nearly hit by an oncoming car. He dodges and keeps running as people begin to scream behind him, shouting about the mutant and demanding someone call the police. He attempts to scale the side of an apartment building but his hands are injured and he slips on his own blood, crashing to the ground. The sound startles more than one person inside, who all look to see what the commotion is about and, upon seeing Spinner, start to freak out. Spinner forces himself to his feet despite having hurt his back in the fall and keeps running.

He eventually comes to a dead-end alley, pitch black and full of shady stores with plenty of places to hide. He ducks down and tries to catch his breath, mentally going over his plan of action and trying to figure out how to track down Stain. Just as Spinner has started to calm down, one of Overhaul’s thugs start calling for him. He holds his breath and curls up into a ball, hoping he won’t be seen, but he’s snatched up by a hand in his hair and dragged out of his hiding place. Panicked, Spinner lashes out and tries to claw at the person grabbing him, but his fingers have been filed to stubs and don’t do any damage. The thug taunts him, and two more appear at the end of the alley. He keeps thrashing and gets in a lucky hit, and once again tries to scale the building. This time he uses proper handholds in the worn brick and manages to get to the roof.

Spinner takes off preforming some very sloppy parkour, and blindly tries to lose the thugs chasing him. One of them pulls a dart gun and shoots at him. The first couple bullets miss, but eventually he’s hit, and as the tranquilizer starts to kick in he heads back for the ground rather than risk breaking his neck. Halfway there a wave of exhaustion once again sends him falling. This time he lands in the dumpster behind a seedy bar. He forces himself to stand, and starts to stagger towards the street, but the thugs again appear to block his path. Spinner turns around and tries to rush out the other side of the alley, but he’s surrounded. He starts to pound on the bar’s back door, knowing it’s hopeless and even if someone answers they won’t help him. Again, he’s taunted.

Just as he feels hands start to close over him, the door opens. Spinner falls forward again, and has a brief thought about how much that sucks. Facedown on the floor he doesn’t see who it was that answered, but he can hear other people standing, their chairs scraping, someone making a concerned noise. The person who opened the door says “Well now, what’s this?” in a scratchy voice. Spinner, half-unconscious, murmurs “Help. Please.” He passes out before he can hear if the person standing over him answered.

Aaaaand that was helpful for two reasons. The first, it gave me a more solid roadmap, scene-by-scene, of what happens in Chapter One. And two, it reveals a problem I honestly can’t believe I missed.

If Overhaul is the guy who owns the freakshow, then where the hell is Eri? I don’t want to just write her out. She needs to exist in some capacity. Honestly, I might end up completely rewriting the latter half of this fic. I knew something felt off, but I guess in my head Eri is Safe and Happy Now so the idea of her being back with Overhaul for this didn’t click for me. It makes more sense for her to be a priority instead of Ujiko like, randomly sending nomus after Shigaraki to test him or whatever. I bet if I go back to the drawing board and do some tweaking I’ll have an easier time getting the writing done.

Alright, guess I’m gonna scurry back into my office. Until next time!

#spinaraki #spinner #shigaraki tomura #bnha #not writing #writing liveblog #write with me #How did I forget Eri #how did my brain just misplace An Entire Child #I just don't want overhaul near her anymore okay #... anyway #back to work I go!

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tachibubu · 7 years

Text

Tired [Part:5]

Pairing: Jerome Valeska/Joker x Reader x Peter Parker/Spiderman.

AU included: DC/MARVEL. Possible Suicide Squad.

Prompt: You had enough with Jerome as he keeps seducing other girls in front of you so you plan to leave him and go to New York. Where you will find yourself stuck in the web of another bug who will fall in love with you.

Hey guys! long time no see, and yes I am back! This past few months have been horrible and tiring. I decided to take a 2 weeks break from tumblr because I’m failing in class (DAMN YOU QUADRATIC EQUATIONS!) then when I’m done I forgot my password literally! And when I’m done changing it my laptop broke! Which I mind you this draft was in that laptop so I’m really sorry guys! I promise to update more forgive me! ;-;

SORRY IF ITS’S SHORT!

PART [1] [2] [3] [4] [6]

There were many reasons for you to hate the Joker based on your perspective point of view and one of them includes his antics and psychotic thinking. So expect his plans gruesome, it would be fun to say at least to be applied to others but now. His victim is you.

“Did you miss me, darling?” he chortled and moved forward along with the other members beside him.

He looked the same but there are most definitely major changes, for example. His face, it was stapled on his head. His outfit too, from ‘The boy from Prison’ to ‘A Ringmaster that would kill you’.

Bucky pushed you further away, both of his pistols with a silencer plugged in aimed towards the man. “Tell me, (Y/N). Is this Jerome?” Your body jolted, you once expressed the story to Bucky about Jerome but it seems like he didn’t care at all at that time. Fact-wise, you didn’t knew that Bucky cared about you a lot throughout the weeks and even included you to one of his dear companions inside his mind. He is just reluctant since he fear that the Winter Soldier inside him would rise once again so suddenly, so he distanced himself away from you.

“Yes.” You managed to stammer out at your condition.

“You’re a strong girl (Y/N), now run and call help.”

You stared at Bucky like he was nuts, your mind started to advocate and theorize saying that there’s a possibility that if you escaped Bucky could die, Jerome could outsmart you, and many more. But looking at his pleading brown eyes told you to run. So you did, and boy you were fast. You were guilty of leaving Bucky alone but he was right, you don’t have any weapons that you are specialized around except the gun that Bucky held so to help him, you need to contact the other Avengers fast. Jerome glared at Bucky, curious who he is and annoyed. “The chicken run because of you, what are you to order her around? Her lover?” his roar full of laughter but when he said the last one, his teeth clenched together and his eyebrows furrowed.

Bucky averted his attention towards the group; he noticed that members aren’t the former MANIAX. Rather one of the new groups that escaped the prison a few days ago. “Hey, isn’t five against one a little unfair?” Bucky frowned.

“Nothing is fair in a game with me in it.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed, “Well let’s play that game of yours now shall we.”

Jerome clapped, without emotion plastered on his face and bowed as if a show is about to start. He brought out a flip phone and typed rather fast, “Now if you excuse me I need to call one of my clients and let this buffoons take care of you for a minute.” He smirked and walked towards one of the picnic table and sat on it smiling as if he was innocent.

One of the crocodile looking puffed, “We’re not buffoons.”

“Now, now mate. I say we should kill this greasy lad first. Any tic of the clock and he’ll be dead before the dessert.” A man with a boomerang said, grinning. A person in color sighed and glanced at one bald man full of tattoos, “You joining little guy?”

“No,” the bald man said with a thick accent.

“This would be hard.” Bucky murmured under his breath.

“Yes? ~” A chirpy voice greeted as the person saw you running towards the bathroom, locking it. The female smiled and blew a gum as it popped and munched it once again.

“I need you to bring me (Y/N) fresh and alive, get it?”

The female giggled; “So when I do this you’ll take me on a date?” she could hear Jerome grumble at the other side of the line. “Just get her.” The phone call ended as it beeped. The female stretched her body and placed her phone in her pocket, her bat dangling on her shoulders.

“You bet’cha pudding, alive and fresh. But I won’t promise no bruises~!”

You gasped for air, thinking in a flash. You brought out your phone and dialed Peter fast, “Com’on, com’on” you muttered in frustration and within few seconds it ended. You dialed once again and fortunately he answered this time.

“(Y/N)! Did you manage to get out----“

“No time to explain,” you grasped your phone as if your life depended on it “Go to the picnic or field whatever the name of that grassland son of a bitch in your school! Bucky needs you more than I do!”

“But---“

“Harley Quinn is here!” A lard bang could be heard outside the room, a nemesis was trying to enter the room. “What’s that?!” you could hear Peter ask and him wearing his suit. You ended the call.

The bathroom isn’t the best hiding place to hide in the game of hide n’ seek, you thought. Because of panicking too much you didn’t even think about the possibilities so you won’t let anxiety took over you. Thinking fast you closed all of the stalls and entered the last one, locking it then climbing out of the stall with the support of the toilet seat. You closed the stall that you fled with and under the sink there were small closets so you entered the one near the door so you could escape her hopefully when she bashed the last stall. You just hoped you outsmarted her on this one.

After few seconds you could hear the wooden door bashed as footsteps erupted.

“Where could you be?” you could almost feel the smile she is wearing now, how you despised it.

“You know,” her voice fainted “Puddin’ asked me to fetch ye up undead.”

You could hear her pass the hiding spot you were in, you covered your mouth.

“He still loves you,” you could hear her chuckle “and that makes me feel disgusted” Harley kicked the first stall openly; she was trying to give a thrill like all the horror movies she watched with Jerome. Obviously she isn’t dumb enough to see you peeking on her so she just pretended not noticing a single thing.

“You know why he wants you alive?” she swings her bat towards another stall.

“Because he still fucking loves you.”

“He still loves me?” Harley kicked open the second to last stall as you closed your hiding spot slowly. The room ceased down which made you confused.

“Yeah, he still loves you. Not.”

In just a matter of second an insane looking woman you dragged out off your hiding spot. “I won’t promise that there’s no bruises darling!” You tried scratch her and hit her, which didn’t work, it made her slow but not enough for you to escape. Even though you were a former serial killer that didn’t mean that you were good enough to battle Harley because she is more experienced than you.

“A-ah! Sweet cheeks, Harley is about to blow your mind!” Harley shoved you towards the dirty wall. Your head shook as the cemented wall made an impact on your head and by impact it meant a lot. You’re eyes slowly giving up on you as your body twitched a little.

“And by saying that phrase I meant literally.”

The only thing you saw next was a baseball bat moving fast towards the side of your face.

TAGS: @mundane-cup-noodles @lonewolf0515 @pizxagordon @the-mad-girl-with-a-book @1738oml @depressionxisntxaxgame @thebeautifulmonaghan @luciferscrush @surahbow @sparklyhoe @extraordinarybluenette @youtube-obsessed-duh @hanji-zoe-surveycorps @poisonjey @colagirl5 @adidabach @erreneous @zaporkent-hullo-rettenet

[For some reason tumblr won’t tag me some of the people but I still enlisted their names! I’m sorry! Also tumblr won’t show me some of the notes so I’m sorry if you aren’t listed ;-;]

If you want to be tagged for the next part just comment asking to be tagged! I won’t include for now a “PERMANENT TAG” since it’s quite a hassle for me. Thank you for reading!

PS. If you want to get tagged please check if your tumblr is allowed to be tagged by people, if not please turn it on. Thank you.

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eeveelutionsforequality · 6 years

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(1) As much as I know of the self diagnosis vs self advocacy debate, I haven't seen anyone talk about how to self advocate when it comes to mental health. I strongly suspect I am bipolar, since I have a confirmed history of major depressive episodes, but I also have periods of experiencing symptoms of hypomania. I was also subjected to bullshit social skills classes in high school (I'm autistic), which among other things, taught me to communicate indirectly to avoid hurting people's feelings.

(2) I know it is caused me problems with communicating, but I am still in the habit of doing that, and I realized that may be why I'm not getting anywhere when I bring it up to my therapist. I'm not comfortable with resorting to self-diagnosis at this time, but I also think the lack of a correct diagnosis is why therapy has not been helping me cope as much as it could. How do I bring it up in a way that will let my therapist know I want her to address my concerns?

I praise self-advocacy as an alternative to self-diagnosis, because those ballsy enough to walk into a psychiatrist's office or a conversation and declare "I have [thing]" are probably able to more rationally approach the subject in a "These are my symptoms and I think it could be this..." way. But just like how autobiographies aren't the only kind of biography, self-advocacy is far from the only kind of advocacy.

You don't need to be your own advocate, somebody else can come along and advocate for you - a friend, a family member, a volunteer from one of the local advocacy groups, etc. There's a group near me that advocates specifically for autistic people, for example.

If your conversation skills are inhibiting you from being able to adequately discuss things with a professional, you don't have to do it alone - it's definitely worth doing some googling, popping into some places that have leaflets for that sort of thing, etc, and finding out what's available near where you live if there's nobody in your life that can do that for you.

I have two advocates - one is a family member and one is an honourary family member. I do research, send it to them, and they keep notes about my symptoms, fluctuations, things I've shown them, etc, so that my memory issues don't become a barrier between me and what I want to explain. It's a life-saver.

At my last appointment, one came along and helped me fill in the forms, meaning that I got about twice the information down that I would've got down if I was relying on only my own brain. When I had to go to a tribunal, one came along then too, and they were excellent at spotting how the judge was trying to twist my words and butting in to correct him.

If you're more comfortable self-advocating then there are a number of things that you can do to make the process easier.

Firstly, keep a diary. Every day you need to write down your symptoms, your mood, notable moments, things you want to ask the doctor, food, fluid, sleep, alcohol, etc. Take that with you.

Secondly, go over that before the appointment and write yourself a "script". It doesn't need to be detailed or word for word, just get down the most important points and the way in which you want to convey them (NOT the way in which the memory of social skills classes tells you to convey them, but what you'd want somebody to say to you if they were trying to convey this effectively to you). Take that with you.

What I did with my DID was write a draft script on a piece of A4 paper a couple of weeks beforehand, and then I let my alters add to it or make notes on it with their opinions - I took that in with me and showed the doctor, and the differences in handwriting and wording had a much bigger impact than I was expecting and really helped in getting them to seriously consider that possibility.

Thirdly, don't waffle. I know it's tempting to be like "I have to get all of the details out in the first speech", but the therapist is going to ask questions afterwards. Boil what you need to say down to its key components, the facts that you need her to understand as the foundation moving forwards, and work out how to effectively convey those in less time than somebody would get the urge to interrupt - no tangents, no innuendo, just "This. That. The other thing too." But don't skip important details for the sake of brevity - find the balance.

Fourthly, make sure that you have the right psychiatrist. The counsellor that I had in college and the clinical psychiatrist that I had in hospital were both able to pick up on the things that made me more comfortable and more able to speak, and both knew not to interrupt me - the two of them learnt more about me and made me more comfortable than any other professional, just by letting me drink a hot chocolate and doodle on my phone. The psychologist who did my mindfulness therapy, on the other hand, insulted me for using my phone and my wall became 87% thicker in less than a second. You have to be working with somebody who lets you speak and who understands the way in which you speak.

Fifthly, if you know what helps you speak, tell them; if you don't know what helps you speak, begin the conversation with words to the effect of "I'm really struggling to get this out, but I prepared really hard, so I'd really appreciate it if you'd let me say my piece, and then we can discuss it afterwards instead of you interrupting me and making it harder for me to get out what I need to get out." If they then interrupt you, remind them that at the beginning of this they promised not to do so.

Remind yourself mentally that this is your therapy, this is your recovery, this is for you, this is important, and you deserve to be heard.

Sixthly, do research but downplay how much research you've done... "I stumbled across something that accurately described my experience and they called it hypomania" sounds a lot better than "I heard of hypomania on tumblr and spent twelve hours researching it" because the latter says to a doctor "I convinced myself that I have this because it sounded cool".

I was seeing psychiatrists back when the emo fad started, I was talking to them at the height of "Teenagers are all pretending to have depression because they read about it on the internet and think it's cool" days, so I know first-hand how eager some professionals can get to jump to that conclusion - unfortunately, there were times when seeing doctors felt more like a test of my ability to word the truth in a more digestible way than an opportunity to actually talk about how I was feeling.

An essential part of research should be to get your terms right - I fucked up back in the day because I referred to my compulsion to mime slitting my wrists or shooting myself in the head when I'm panicked as a "suicidal gesture" (however there's a medical term, "suicide gesture", that sounds almost identical and it means when you feign a suicide attempt by injuring yourself in a non-deadly manner, typically for attention) and not as a compulsion, which is part of how my OCD diagnosis got wrongly changed to a BPD diagnosis. I had never even heard of the terminology, I was just saying "I have to do a suicidal gesture when I'm panicking" meaning "When I'm panicked I have the compulsion to mime ways in which I envision killing myself", it was just poor wording, I had no idea that it was a medical term with an entirely different meaning. That created a huge misunderstanding, as you can imagine.

Seventhly is some advice that a friend gave me and honestly it's one of the best things that I've ever heard and comes in two parts: 1) play to your strengths, and 2) use your acting voice.

So part 2 is the easy one, everybody has something called a chest voice - it's a deeper voice that you use when singing or performing that projects better. Look up some YouTube videos on how to use your chest voice and practice it - it conveys a confidence that most people's normal voices do not. You could also stand in front of a mirror and work on your facial expressions.

Part 1 is a little more complicated and probably something that people will frown upon me for saying but... in this world you gotta be a little manipulative sometimes, you've got to assess situations and respond accordingly, you've got to word things certain ways.

I'm a very small, quiet person with an accent that immediately halves my IQ to everyone who hears it, it is near enough impossible for me to convey an air of superiority and maturity, but it's easy for me to play dumb and sweet. I can't get the psychiatrist to shut up by being somebody who sounds like I know what I'm talking about, if I get annoyed or snap it won't look like anger (I'm too quiet and I physically do not possess angry face muscles, I hate it), but if I go quiet and stare sadly at the floor then people notice and ask what's wrong. I can't get somebody to inherently assume that when I name a disorder I know what I'm talking about, but I can pretend that I've never heard of it or heard it in passing, and lead them into suggesting it.

I'm an extreme case in this regard and it's usually not a good idea to hide your real emotions and act when you're in a scenario where somebody is literally monitoring your body language for signals... there are definitely hardcore disadvantages and risks to that, and I am most certainly not recommending misleading your doctor, in fact I'm actively advising against doing that (I'm just saying that I do that sometimes, because I'm a dick and because my voice trying to yell "Shut the fuck up!" when I feel that angry usually only earns an "It doesn't even sound like swearing when you do it, that's adorable." because I'm fucking cursed).

What I am saying though is that I can't tell you exactly how to act (in fact, I'd be encouraging you to do something that I literally just said is bad if I did tell you how to act), I can't tell you exactly what words to say, where to put your hands, etc. The tip here is that you've got to be able to improvise, to assess the situation, to adapt, to know what you are and are not capable of and work within that, to see when a path is either going nowhere or going off topic and figure out how to direct it back, you've got to know how to talk to that specific person (professionals are just people, at the end of the day, and every person is different in how they speak and how they like being spoken to - some respond best to you casually bringing stuff up, some respond to structure, some click with you, some really don't).

Eighthly and most importantly, don't let any of this get you nervous. This advice is almost a "How to survive some of the shittiest doctors I had" sort of thing. The most likely outcome is that they're going to listen intently to what you have to say, trust you, respect you, ask the appropriate questions, and help you make sense of what's going on.

I have no doubt that you can do this and that you will absolutely rock it - you don't need that confidence in yourself, but reminding yourself that it's going to go well, that you're badass, that the professional is there to help you, and that they'll want this information as much as you want them to have it, that stuff will help. Believe in the heart of the cards, or the power of friendship, or your Pokémon, or something.

So, to put all this into something vaguely actionable (although I can't really give you much specific advice because I don't know what's going on in your head, so this is just like... idk vague template example thingy), the foundation of what you want your doctor to know is "I have the symptoms of hypomania, I want you to seriously consider the possibility that this is bipolar and not just depression."

In your symptom diary, keep track of the symptoms of hypomania - irritability, sleeplessness, recklessness, elation, etc - note down when they show up, how bad they are, how they impact you, your food and fluid and alcohol intake, the times of day when certain things happened, how well and long you slept, etc, but also jot down the depressive episodes and other potential symptoms, in case you need to answer questions in regards to those.

Next, write down the key points that you want to bring up on a separate note: how often did the symptoms generally show up? for how long? which are the most damaging? what is the worst thing that happened as a result?

Now you're in the appointment with your note and diary, you've told the doctor "You know I have some communication issues so I really need you to let me say what I've prepared, because I feel like the fact that the things I'm about to discuss aren't being addressed is really inhibiting my therapy." The doctor has agreed to let you speak and you've got your notes in front of you, and you say (a more applicable to you equivalent of) "I started a symptom diary a little while ago, I've brought it with me - I made note of symptoms, food intake, medication, sleep, and so on. I noticed that I was getting exceptionally irritable and hyperactive, especially during periods of a few days when I wasn't exhibiting as many of the depression symptoms, and I've ruled out sleep, food, and other factors as causes. On the fourth of last month, I got so restless that I couldn't sit down and I actually gave myself blisters pacing back and forth for six hours - while during the depressive episodes I can barely even manage to walk to the bathroom let alone pace. I came across an article online while looking up ways to ease the irritability, and I found that a few people described things incredibly similar to what I was going through, and they used the term 'hypomania'. I was hoping that we could talk through the symptoms that I've documented, and you could help me get my head around what's going on and how to treat it."

Then the doctor asks her questions, you answer as honestly and fully as you can, and try to cite evidence from your symptom diary.

If you can't manage to say the words that you need to say to start off such a conversation, then instead of just writing notes you could fully write out what it is that you want to say, and ask them to read it - explaining that you feel especially anxious about your ability to vocally express this, but it needs to be addressed because it's negatively impacting your therapy and your state of life.

Or, as I suggested at the beginning, have somebody else come along as an advocate.

That's just my advice stemming from my own experience... for some people, this advice might be unhelpful. As I mentioned earlier, you need to assess your situation, assess what you are and are not capable of, assess how your doctor usually responds to you, what they respond well to and what they respond poorly to, and so on - everybody's situation is different, so there isn't a list of "This is exactly what to say and do to get a doctor to listen to you" (as much as the crowd of people who adore convincing doctors that they have the next fad would love for there to be something like that). Ultimately, like any conversation, it's about what works best for the two individuals involved in that specific conversation.

Since I've broached this less from a general self-advocacy stand point (heck, I may even have pissed off self-advocacy people because a lot of this was "tips on how to stop shitty doctors being shitty" rather than all of the stuff about keeping records and knowing your rights and so forth) and more from a "personalized tips pulled from Vape's ceramic jar of ways to avoid my shitty mistakes", I'm now going to give you a handful of links to some more professional self-advocacy sites, and I recommend that you do proper research on the topic for a few hours on google. As flattered as I am that you came to me, and as hopeful as I am that my advice helps in some way, me waffling about the ways I avoid getting screwed over again isn't professional advice - I'm very aware, as someone who's worked in a youth group, that I am not the fountain of all knowledge and that it is my job to pass you on to those more capable and to ensure that you know that my word isn't law.

So check out some of these and do more specific research and googling when you have the time (these aren't all about self-advocacy in medical care, some are about self-advocacy in other areas or advocacy in general, but I hope the advice may still be useful):

https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/guides-to-support-and-services/advocacy/#.WlaI26CnzqA

http://www.familyaware.org/how-to-model-mentalhealth-selfadvocacy/

http://www.cooltanarts.org.uk/what-we-offer/self-advocacy/

https://www.voiceability.org/support-for-you/self-advocacy/

http://www.dhs.state.il.us/page.aspx?item=39797

https://www.ncld.org/archives/action-center/what-we-ve-done/self-advocacy-5-tips-from-a-student

https://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/9767596

https://www.includenyc.org/resources/video-detail/10-self-advocacy-tips-for-young-people-with-disabilities

https://www.kidney.org/content/5-tips-self-advocacy

Also, full disclosure, I haven't thoroughly read all of these and I'm low on sleep and running on way more caffeine than I should really have had... I'm probably not in the best state to be imparting important information right now, but I really hope that somewhere in this jumble I said something that was useful. (I also love how the quality just gradually declines after I start craving a cigarette at the midway point... I'm so sorry.)

EDIT: PS I'm sorry that I got pronouns and job titles and stuff jumbled up all through this, uhh, my brain is running on super fast mode right now so it's not really accessing all of the important files or deeper processing. I'm sorry, again.

Alternatively, if your therapist is super great and trusts you "I think I've been experiencing hypomania, and I think this may be bipolar and not just depression" will work fine... but the symptom diary, that is a good tip for anybody and everybody, regardless.

~ Vape

#Mod Vaporeon #I really do hope this helps #also sorry if I'm acting a bit weird and sporadic #speaking of mania #I don't get many manic phases lately so I'm really not prepared for if this one lasts #and the caffeine is making it worse

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alphacrone · 7 years

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i found this post in my drafts and have ZERO memory of writing it (thank u alcohol) so im gonna put it in my queue lol

ok but imagine

Bitty comes out to his parents but he doesn't tell them about Jack, thinks it's for the best, maybe to ease his parents into things or maybe to keep the pool of People Who Know as small as possible

and like yeah Ransom and Holster are super oblivious but Suzanne Bittle is not, not when it comes to her son, because she is a certified Nosy Southern Mother and she can see he's been acting differently, happier but quieter, always on his phone and blushing when she asks about boys

and he talks about the team a LOT

Jack's one of his best friends and he's just started his NHL career, so of course Bitty’s never gonna shut up about Jack

(Same goes for Shitty and law school. And eventually Ransom and med school. Dicky is proud of his friends and wants everyone to know. He gets that trait from Suzanne, she understands)

but he keeps talking about this one Boy, how sweet he is and how his smile is like a sack of puppies and how bitty's always making this boy do things with him like baking and getting froyo and going shopping and Suzanne is like. Yes. This must be Dicky's secret boyfriend.

the next family weekend or whatever, Suzanne demands to meet this Chowder boy who's stolen Bitty's heart

Bitty is both confused and mortified

“No, Mother,” he says. “Chowder is my friend, I mean look at him, that sweet precious baby fawn of a goalie-”

Suzanne is Not Convinced

“Mhmm,” she replies. “Sure, baby. Sure.”

but bitty can’t disobey his mother, so he drags the Frogs into the kitchen and introduces them all at once

so dex is like “um ok nice to meet you ma’am” and nursey’s all “sup mrs. b” and then Chowder - sweet Chowder - goes over and hugs her and starts rambling on a mile a minute about how much the team loves bitty and gosh it’s so nice to meet you, mrs. bitty’s mom, thank you for the care packages and oh do you watch hockey what team do you root for my team’s the sharks they’re ‘swawesome hey are you coming to our game tonight i think the coaches are gonna start bitty which is So Great because bitty is So Great of course the entire team is So Great but you know we all just love bitty So Much-!

Suzanne is Very Much Convinced

bitty’s gone bright red and none of the Frogs can figure out why

so i think by this point Ransom & Holster have a running joke about Bitty’s Secret Boyfriend bc, even tho they know, they’re Major Shitheads

(”Who’re you texting, Bits?” “Oh, uh, Jack.” “Pshyeah right, look at that blush. Who are you really texting?” “Oh, my God, I swear I’m just texting Jack.” “Bro, it’s gotta be your secret boyfriend.” “Adam Birkholtz, I swear to Jesus-”)

so R&H are messing around in the kitchen as bitty and his mom make a pre-game pie or something and bitty’s texting with jack about how mortifying his day has been when, of course, it gets worse

“Dude, stop texting your Secret Boyfriend,” Ransom says, giving Bitty a shit-eating grin.

bitty goes super pale.

normally the joke is just kind of annoying but His Mother is Right Here And

Suzanne perks up.

“What was that?” She asks in that slow, sweet, unassuming way that all middle aged southern ladies use when they smell blood in the water

Bitty knows he’s Fucked

“Oh, hahahaha, just an inside joke, Mama, I’m just texting Jack, these boys and their silly little jokes, tell her it’s a joke, Justin”

so now Suzanne is almost certain Bitty’s hiding a boyfriend from her. she gets it, her mama never knew about half the guys she dated and she never had to Come Out to her mama. but Suzanne is not a saint and privacy doesn’t really exist when it’s your flesh and blood

“So, Adam. Justin. Tell me more about that sweet, little Christopher,” she says. “He’s real cute. Don’t you think so, Dicky?”

to bitty’s delight, though, R&H go straight into Captains mode

“Oh, yeah, Chow’s a great asset to the team.” “One of the best goalies I’ve ever known.” “Real go-getter attitude.” “Hard worker. Weird fear of pucks, though.” “Still. What a guy.”

Bullet dodged, crisis averted. Bitty breathes easy for a moment.

so in this time he’s managed to text Chowder and has asked him to AVOID MAMA BITTLE AT ALL COSTS WHICH

chowder is clearly unable to do

“why????!?? did she not like me?!??? did i say something???!!”

so bitty is trying to calm chowder down and suzanne’s all Sugar Bear Sweetpea Fruit of my Loins WHO ARE YOU TEXTING

and chowder barges into the haus, apologizes a mile a minute for literally Anything he can think of

“I’m sorry for not asking you if you wanted a drink! And I’m sorry for not offering you a tour of the Haus- though I guess Bitty’s already done that- oh! Did I not say it’s nice to meet you?! It’s so nice to meet you!!!”

and r&h have No Idea what’s happening but they love to Stir the Pot so they’re kinda egging chowder on and Mama B is very, very confused but so happy to see Dicky’s boyfriend is so thoughtful, if not a little...excitable...

So of course this is when the Frogs and Lardo wander in, drawn to sounds of a panicked Chowder

now bitty is on the edge of hysterics, trying to calm chowder down, trying to tell his mother that he’s Not dating chowder without saying those exact words, trying to text jack because who Else would be text while losing his shit??

and then she says it

suzanne just fucking says it

“oh, gosh, honey, i don’t know what you’re apologizin for, but it’s nice to know how polite my dicky’s boyfriend is.”

the silence in the kitchen is heavy with pent-up shock and laughter.

now. chowder can be naive, but he’s a smart cookie. it takes him those few, awkward moments, but he manages to put a couple things together - why bitty wanted him away from Mrs. B, why bitty was acting so weird, why suzanne was being so friendly

so chowder, bless his tender lil heart, plays along

“oh! uh!! well, i just want! to impress my...boyfriend?! my boyfriend’s mom!!”

dex and nursey are beyond confused; lardo has to leave the room so she can laugh

this is Not What Bitty Wanted, however

and then

enter Jack Zimmermann

bitty is just about ready to curl up in a corner and die of Shame

so Suzanne does her whole heart-eyes Jack Zimmermann routine, asking after his father and yadda yadda

but jack definitely heard everything with chowder. and as jealous as he is, it was also hilarious.

and we all know jack l zimmermann is kind of a little shit

“so I see you’ve met bitty’s boyfriend” he says in his best monotone

(now ransom has to leave because he’s about to wet himself holding back laughter)

“oh, yes, jack, i’ve finally gotten dicky to introduce me, you’d think he didn’t want me to meet sweet christopher”

bitty’s done. he’s leaving samwell immediately. already has a new name picked out for himself, is gonna hitchhike west and dye his hair brown and never speak to anyone east of albuquerque again

“oh, i can’t believe he’s being shy about chowder,” jack says, knowing that he’s probably getting himself into Trouble but plowing forward regardless. “they’ve been together almost a year now”

“WHAT.” is the reaction that comes from three different people in three very different inflections

(now dex and nursey are taking bets; holster is recording the whole thing to send to shitty; ransom and lardo are watching from the hallway)

“oh, yeah,” jack continues on, with what is probably his Funniest and Most Terrible joke ever. “after they both got dumped by their dates at Winter Screw. right, Bittle?”

bitty has his face buried in his hands. chowder is Beyond Confused as to why jack’s taking it this far.

suzanne is THRILLED

so Jack is weaving this long, ridiculous story of the Epic BittyChowder romance that never was and chowder’s starting to feel uncomfortable about the way suzanne is staring at him and bitty is going to Murder his boyfriend if the mortification doesn’t kill him first

“...which is why I’m here today. to fight for bitty’s hand.”

yup. jack 110% zimmermann Goes There.

“you’re in love with my dicky too??” “do i....do i really have to fight jack??!”

and bitty sees the look in jack’s eyes, the imperceptible nod, and the dam finally bursts: “mother, i’m not dating chowder. and i never wanted you to think i was, but chris was just trying to help me out.”

and suzanne’s face falls and chowder sort of awkwardly...runs away...to stand in the hall with lardo and ransom

“but then why is jack here?” suzanne asks,

and jack wraps his arm around bitty’s shoulder, smiling down at bitty, and bitty finally gets to say to his mama, “because he’s my boyfriend, mother.”

suzanne Freaks Out and cries a little and calls bob. in that order.

but before all of that she hugs them both tight and refuses to let go.

(years down the road, they play holster’s camera-phone video of the whole Ordeal at the zimmermann-bittle wedding. chowder literally never lives down the chirps, but hey -- that’s what best men are for.)

#when i originally wrote this i think it was before the last round of upates #so i didn't exactly know when or how bitty and jack would come out to the team #ANYWAY just pretend family weekend was....a lot later this year #this has been in my drafts forever #check please!#bittychowder #(kinda sorta not really)#fake dating #zimbits

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violetfaust · 7 years

Text

Hooboy, long-ass post coming

Out of respect for @laschatzki I am replying to @rubbady-pubbady‘s reply to my post in this thread with a new thread.

Sorry for the delay; it’s been sitting in my drafts as it got kinda long. There was a lot of ground to cover. I was going to look for gifs but I didn’t have the strength.

A) Rumple isn’t horribly abusive??? Are you kidding?! The guy who trapped his wife on a ship so she couldn’t leave,

He did that to protect her life from a direct and immediate threat. According to your fanbase, ignoring one’s partner’s wishes to protect them is not abusive; that’s an act of wuv: “He loves her so much he’d rather sacrifice their relationship than her life!” Which, by the way, Belle also recognizes, since she tells Hook to go help Emma:

Belle: Go. Go. Emma needs you. We'll be all right. We've got Rumple's spell to protect us.

Hook: Thank you, Belle.

Read more at: http://transcripts.foreverdreaming.org/viewtopic.php?f=143&t=29119

Then Rumbelle had a fight about it, because that’s what couples do when one of them pulls a dick move with bad consequences, even if his intentions are good. Only a dim Stepford doormat would say, “It’s okay, honeybuns. I would ignore your agency and wishes to protect you, too—in fact, I have!”

threatened her saying if she wants what’s best for her baby she’ll have to come back to him and even Belle said that was a threat,

And Belle was wrong about it being a threat and Rumple told her so:

Belle: Threats won't make me love you again, Rumple.

Rumple: No. But necessity will.

Read more at: http://transcripts.foreverdreaming.org/viewtopic.php?f=143&t=29119

(And, shockingly, it turned out that he was right, as we’re seeing this half season.)

planned to use the shears on Belle’s their baby

I know, right? Thank goodness no one cut Gideon away from his fate of being kidnapped, raised in a cage, blackmailed, brainwashed, and tormented for 28 years, having his heart torn out, and being used as his grandfairy’s puppet to murder someone. Whew! Sure dodged a bullet there! I only hope Snowing are that lucky next week when they try to sever Emma from her fate of being the Savior.

and planned to speed up the pregnancy so he could do that and Belle RAN AWAY FROM HIM AND HE BACKED HER INTO AN ELEVATOR WHILE SHE LOOKED TERRIFIED!!!

Yes. He almost went too far. That was the one time in their lives since the chipped cup that he frightened her. (One time does not make an abuser.)

But guess what? Belle talked him down. She used reason and emotion, and he realized how wrong he was.

I’m pretty sure that according to your fanbase, planning something terrible (and even executing the plan, as Rumple didn’t) is forgivable if you stop at the absolute last moment. In fact, it makes you a hero.

where she had to beg him not do it, he put a tracker on her wrist so he always knows where she’s going “So now, no matter where you go, I’ll find you.”

Which, while another dickish move, was to prevent her from her stated purpose of kidnapping their child. And this time, he did it WITHOUT trying to restrict her movements or agency. Parolees who are flight risks wear ankle bracelets; how was this different?

And all of this is ONLY this season. I could say more about previous seasons. I mean I know Rumple fans stay in their little bubble but come on! What do you call this? Oh wait I forgot - Hook breathed in the background so he must be the terrible one!

I call it BOTH Rumple and Belle acting in terrible ways to each other (way that were the literal opposite of all they’d done before, sheerly for STUpidity and, as Kitsowitz admitted, to create a plot where Gideon could be the man under the cloak trying to kill Emma). Their relationship was extremely unhealthy in 6A, but unhealthy doesn’t always equal abusive. (I made a point of not calling CS’s unhealthy codependent relationship “abusive” until S5, either.)

No, let’s see: Hook lied to Emma literally from the moment he met her; left her and her family to die (twice); manipulated her a thousand times (before you yelp: that’s hyperbole, but if you like I can come up with five or six times off the top of my head); stalked her with a telescope spyglass; felt entitled to her (from Eddy’s own mouth) while she was “shunning him” (JMo’s words); said he was happy her heart had been broken; touched or grabbed her at least half a dozen times without her permission and several times against her stated will (again, happy to provide the examples); tried to keep her away from her family because he wanted more of her time; lied to her about blackmailing someone and being blackmailed back (leading to her almost being thrown into another dimension); threw a jealous snit when she had literally her very first conversation after they started dating with a man whom she was not related to (August); told her he liked her walls because he liked breaking them down; said he “loved” her as she looked at him with tears in her eyes; attempted suicide to get her attention; told her he wanted to hurt her and that she’d always be an orphan, and left her crying; restrained her and stole her magic; tried to kill her entire family (again); yelled at her teenage son for not rescuing him hard enough; joked that being vulnerable was not her strong suit (after she had opened up to him about things that deeply hurt and while she was going to therapy); ignored her express wishes about the shears because he knew better than she did; lied about that; proposed to her while keeping the secret that he had killed her grandfather; and preferred to burn away his memories rather than tell her the truth. And literally packed his bags and prepared to leave her without a note or even a text, until he decided at the last second not to.

Off the top of my head.

(Everything that you say Rumple did, Hook did, only worse, plus those little extra goodies like attempting suicide to get her attention.)

B) Belle wasn’t trying to get away from her husband? What was she doing then?

To live her life separately from him. She came into Granny’s, the most public place in SB, and wanted a room; she said she and Rumple weren’t together “at the moment.” She did not hide from Rumple, and even after Rumple was an asshole about magicking her on the ship, she said she wanted Rumple and Gid to heal their relationship, and gave Rumple the sonogram as a peace offering.

C) Emma and Hook manipulated Belle into sending away her baby

No really…what? They did nothing at all! What are you talking about? Belle decided to do that because “Rumple will never stop.” Emma even says “Belle what are you doing?”. It was because of Rumple that Belle believed she had to send away her baby to keep him safe.

Emma: Gold did the right thing today. That doesn't mean he'll do the same tomorrow.

Hook: Emma's right. And we have to make sure that he can't use that magic on you, and we will.

Read more at: http://transcripts.foreverdreaming.org/viewtopic.php?f=143&t=29985

Hook and Emma BOTH KNOW that Rumple would never do anything to hurt Belle. They have BOTH concocted entire schemes based on the fact that Rumple would do anything to save her. So, right here, they are either lying to manipulate her, or honestly being extraordinarily dimwitted and amnesiac. THEY were the ones who put it in her head that Rumple would still use the dust on her; had they not, maybe Belle wouldn’t have panicked and would actually have had time to find out that the Queen was the one who dosed her.

D) Gideon has shown no attempt to hurt or kill Emma since reforging the sword “Gideon has the He’ll go after the Savior once again. I just hope there’s enough time that we can stop him before he does.” Rumple said this to Belle and yet neither did anything to warn Emma that he had the sword back. And he did basically kidnap someone Emma loves in order to blackmail her into helping him so he’s definitely messing with her life.

“Messing with her life” is not killing her. And Belle can’t have had much opportunity to tell Emma anything, since after the first attempt on her life Emma blithely went out canoeing with Henry, and when she came back she was busy snooping through her lover’s stuff, getting engaged to a liar, and showing off her ring (and then moping over thinking her fiancé had left her because for the VERY FIRST TIME in their relationship she called him on lying to her).

EDIT: I wrote this bit before Sunday’s ep and didn’t look it over before posting. As it turns out, Gideon DID have a convoluted plan to kill Emma, one that involved banishing her boyfriend, starting a business and sending out flyers, learning mixology, listening to Emma’s woes and gathering her tears, getting her to trust him, leading her to an abandoned house and opening a portal, summoning a GIANT-ASS spider to engulf her in webs so as to kill her very slowly, and using that to charge the sword to free the Black Fairy. (All of this done because the BlF was controlling him via stolen heart.) But c’mon--how could ANYONE, let alone Belle, come up with something so ridonkulous? To her knowledge, Gideon wasn’t using the sword to come after Emma (and see above about Emma’s unavailability, which doesn’t change).

E) Snow had virtually no interaction with Belle They had a conversation at the hospital about babies and was the only person there for her at her first ultrasound and it’s also where Belle talked about wanting to give a picture to Rumple.

Yes, one brief conversation is, as I said, virtually no interaction. If they hadn’t encountered each other at all, I would have said they had no interaction, sans “virtually.”

in fact, Snow’s last major effect on Belle was selling her out to Hyde

That’s funny because since Rumple ‘gave’ the town to Hyde and then Jekyll almost killed Belle, doesn’t that mean Rumple sold Belle out to Hyde? That’s an interesting thought.

That’s funny, because the reason Rumple “gave” the town to Hyde is that Hyde kidnapped Belle after Snow sold her out.

but instead did nothing to hurt her and allowed her pirate to live when he could have easily killed him

They were Dark Ones - he wouldn’t have been able to hurt them

He had the Dark One-destroying sword Excalibur and at one point had it against Killy’s throat. In fact, if he had wanted to kill Emma, Rumple could have quite likely taken her by surprise when she asked for it back and instead of giving it to her, run her through.

according to Eddy himself, a “crime of opportunity” when Emma had a plan that Rumple warned her was risky and could have ended with all of them banished to hell.

Well, of course it was a crime of opportunity - what else would you call it? He learned Emma was going to sacrifice herself so he took advantage of it.

I brought that up because you said in your original post that Rumple was “paying Emma back” for kidnapping him and threatening Belle by enchanting the sword. He didn’t; they were separate things.

And it’s a plan that would have worked and did work until Rumple took it. And he didn’t say it could have ended with all of them banished to hell. He said the sword chooses its miracles…after he already poured the potion on the sword ...

He explained the “banished to hell” part earlier; that’s how everyone knew what the marks meant:

Emma: What is that?

Mr Gold: That... is the mark of Charon.

Henry: Charon? He was the ferryman in the old myths. He navigated a boat... to the Underworld.

Mr Gold: Smart lad. You see, the Dark Ones only have a... a temporary pass into this world, like a like a tourist visa. The only way for them to stay... is to trade places with living souls.

Read more at: http://transcripts.foreverdreaming.org/viewtopic.php?f=143&t=24162

Rumple knew better than anyone that Excalibur had been ostentatiously NOT choosing Emma for the entire season; what reason did he have to believe her plan would work? (Let alone that Killy would change his mind at the last minute.)

They do, however, regularly demand his help to get them out of their jams, or simply steal his stuff when his back is turned.

When and like what?

Well, a partial list off the top of my head (not counting all the times in FTL flashbacks):

Season 2

David wanting a tracking potion to find Jefferson (I think it was Jeff).

Regina wanted to make her magic work.

Regina wanted someone to stop Cora.

Emma tried to blame him for Archie’s death, then asked for a way to find/prove the killer.

Snowing got him to locate Regina after Gremara kidnapped her.

The Charmings tried to get him to stop Regina’s failsafe.

Season 3 (note that he was inaccessible most of the season—alone on the island, dead, in a cage)

The Charmings wanted him to find out what was wrong with Henry (or something like that; they accosted Rumbelle coming out of the shop).

They went to him to find out how to defeat Zelena when she had him in a cage (and they LEFT him there, with Snow saying that Z had done “nothing that can’t be undone” to him).

(Note: I’m not counting him make the dreamshade cure for David, since I think it was Neal who asked for it.)

Season 4A

Hook and David wanted him to save Emma from the ice mountain.

Hook blackmailed him into locating the Snow Queen (so that Hook and Elsa could get themselves captured).

Hook blackmailed him into getting back his hand.

Something I can’t remember that required Belle to ask nicely for the whole gang.

Emma wanted a spell to remove her powers.

I’m hazy, but I think they got him to make the portal to Arendelle?

Season 4B (n/a since he was never available/in the shop)

Season 5A (note that he was inaccessible by virtue unconscious/held prisoner most of the time)

Emma wanted Excalibur to pull off her plan.

Emma blackmailed him into going to the Underworld.

Season 5B (note that he was inaccessible most of the time)

Emma went to him after Hades had been released to ask for Rumple’s help.

Season 6A

The EQ wanted some doodad/key to the Untold Stories.

David wanted info about his dad.

The whole group wanted help with Jekyll’s potion.

Times they outright stole from him:

Taking the Caddy back from NYC.

Emma and Killy taking the sword from the shop.

Those are, again, off the top of my head. I probably missed a few.

Does this list help jog your memory?

#rumplestiltskin #rumbelle #belle french #gideon gold #anti-hook #anti-stepford swan #pro-fact #sorta op

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