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joonie-beanie · 4 years

Text

The Best Kind of Workout

Pairing: Beelzebub x Reader

Word Count: 5,525

Preview: A simple request from Beel turns into a big issue when you lose yourself to your feelings for him.

"I want you. All of you."

Now the real question is...can you fit all of him?

** Please note that this is a cross-posting **

This chapter was originally posted on 2/22/20 as a part of my “Devil Doms” series on AO3.

It starts out as an innocent request—a text from Beel, asking you to come to the gym and film him. You agree without giving it much thought. You don’t exactly have anything better to occupy your time, and you’d be grateful to get away from Mammon’s constant unannounced appearances in your room, so—you slip on your shoes and exit the House of Lamentation.

Lucifer would have your head knowing that you’re leaving without an escort—after all, not all demons are as nice as them—but Beel had given you a tour of the gym before, and it wasn’t a very far walk.

Within minutes, you’re entering the brightly lit building. It’s not too late—only about 9pm—but not many demons are inside.

Well…it is a Friday, and you suppose that people would rather be out having fun than working out in a gym that smells overwhelmingly like air freshener.

“Y/N,” Beel calls, and you search for the sound—your eyes eventually finding him. He’s stood near a bench press—dressed in a fitted black wife beater, and a pair of baggy sweats. You’re not sure why, but all of the sudden saliva is pooling in your mouth, and you have to remember to swallow. Perhaps it’s because you’ve never seen him in his workout clothes before—his pecs and abs outlined by his top, and his tanned, beefy arms shining with a thin layer of sweat…

“Y/N?” he speaks again, and you blink out of your trance, your eyes finding his. He’s frowning at you, worry in his gaze. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah! I’m fine,” you respond, and hurry over to wear he’s standing. You greet him with a smile—still a little frazzled—and Beel immediately returns it. For a second, he lifts his arms—leaning in as if to hug you—but then he pulls back.

“I’m sweaty. You probably don’t want a hug,” he says, as if saying his thoughts aloud. You’re tempted to argue that you’ll take a hug from him whenever—because honestly feeling his large body engulf you—his scent sticking to your clothes, and his chin resting against your head—is a huge guilty pleasure of yours—but the moment is already gone. Beel has stepped away, positioning himself on the seat of the bench press.

Annnnnddd you’re staring again, enraptured by the simplistic charm he exudes solely by being in his element. His thighs are spread, messy orange hair falling into his eyes—and while the sight isn’t scandalous, it’s just…he’s just…very handsome.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, his hand reaching forward. He grabs your wrist, tugging you to him. You lose your balance slightly, and your hand lands on his thigh, his free arm steadying you by your hip.

“You’re really red…,” he mumbles, releasing your wrist and raising his palm to press against your forehead. His brows are creased in concern once more—his face close—and you feel yourself getting even warmer.

Oh god, what has gotten into you?? Sure, you’ve always thought Beel was attractive, and perhaps had thought about him before in a light that reached beyond friendship, but…why is this happening to you now?!

“I-I’m sorry,” you say, releasing a deep sigh. You press back, separating yourself from him slightly. “I’m fine, Beel, I promise.”

“Truly?” he asks, the warmth of his hand still lingering on your hip. His fingers press into the fabric of your jeans, not allowing you to fully get away—not until he believes you.

“Truly,” you assure him, smiling. He eyes you considerately, as if debating whether to trust you, but after a moment he smiles as well—his touch falling away.

“Good. Do you think you can record me then? I want to make sure my form is okay, and it’d be helpful to have a video to review later.”

“Sure!” you say, moving to pull your phone from your pocket. In the back of your head, there are alarm bells ringing. You’ve just agreed to record Beelzebub working out—how are you going to handle that, when your thirst for the Avatar of Gluttony is finally starting to catch up with you?!

I just need to play it cool, and stick it out, you think to yourself, getting your video recorder ready as Beel positions himself under the barbell. Your eyes flit to the weights lining the bar—multiple huge discs of metal secured on either side. You can’t tell their weight, but you’re sure that it’s a lot. Probably enough to kill you if you tried to lift it.

“Ready?” he asks, and you nod—hitting the red button on your phone screen.

“You’re good to go,” you respond, and Beel presses upward—lifting the barbell from the rack. He lowers it to his chest, and then pushes it up—his face scrunching in concentration as he works under the challenging weight. You keep your eyes glued to your phone screen—hoping that it will help filter the effects that Beel’s workout is sure to have on you—but of course it doesn’t.

The muscles in his arms flex—thick veins tracking up and down his tan skin—and immediately you’re already reminding yourself that you need to breathe. However, that’s easier said than done—your eyes trailing down his arms and settling on his chest—his pectorals rising and falling with each press of the bar.

Slowly, you move around the equipment, filming Beel from different angles—assuming that’s what he wants. At least despite the heat flooding your limbs, you’re still somewhat aware of the task he’s given you.

As you circle him, your gaze rakes down his torso—soaking in the patch of skin that has been revealed thanks to his top riding up. The prominent V of his hip bones has you biting your lip—your breathing picking up slightly, and your eyes travel lower still. Thanks to his current position, with his back pressed flat against the bench and his sweats not leaving much to imagination—his bulge is quite obvious.

You swallow harshly, freezing in place as your thighs press together. Your pussy throbs—heart thumping against your ribs—and you forget about what you’re meant to be doing. Instead, your mind begins to wander.

If he’s that big flaccid, then he must really be packing it when erect. And suddenly—you’re imaging Beel’s cock inside of you—pushing you to your limits as he buries himself between your wet walls—his touches soft despite his large stature. You don’t feel small all the time, but you’re sure he would make you feel petite. Maybe your stomach would even protrude a bit—

“Oi~”

There’s a hand on your head—fingers running through your hair—and you blink back into reality. Beel’s staring at you, eyebrows raised curiously.

“Did you zone out while filming? I put the bar back and you were still standing there, staring off into space.”

“I…,” you attempt to respond, but your brain feels as if it’s short circuited. You’re hot all over—and it doesn’t help that Beel’s fingers are petting through your hair so fondly.

“I just…you look good working out,” you admit, unable to keep the truth from coming out. (Likely because you’re needy beyond measure right now, and actually want him to take the hint.) Despite your efforts to maintain an innocent friendship with Beelzebub, you want him to touch you more than anything. You thrive on his hugs, and any lingering contact, and you crave more.

“Oh,” he responds, apparently not having expected that response. There’s a bashful look on his face, his eyes darting to the side. His fingers slide from your head—but you chase after his touch—catching his hand midair and pulling it back to you. You cradle it near your chest—selfish, and not wanting to let him go.

“I…,” your words escape you, embarrassment flooding you as you attempt to work up the courage to tell him what you want. At seeing your inner turmoil, Beel lifts his hand to cup your cheek—your fingers still gripping his own. Your heart skips a beat when you meet his gaze—a mixture of worry, and…excitement? held in his eyes—

“I want you,” you say, voice almost a whisper. Suddenly feeling a little bold at the admission of emotions you’d been holding onto for too long, you shift your face in his hold and press your lips against his fingers. Beel immediately turns red, his eyes going wide. His mouth opens, but no words come out, and an ache pangs at your heart.

Maybe you’ve just ruined everything. Oh god, you shouldn’t have opened your mouth, what were you thinking?!

Your hands leave him, foot stepping backwards as you prepare to run away, but luckily—Beel’s brain finally digests your words. Before you can get too far, he grips both of your shoulders, spinning you back to face him. A noise of shock leaves you—but the sound is muffled by his lips as Beel drags you into a kiss.

Despite his gentle nature, the kiss is far from soft—your lips feeling as if they may bruise. You feel his tongue drag against the seal of your lips, and a quiet moan leaves you—your body beginning to melt against him. However, just as you begin to lose yourself in the moment, a whistle in the background throws you back into reality.

Your cheeks are flaming, wide eyes scanning across the floor of the gym as you and Beel mutually part. The few demons present are all looking at you, interest clear on their faces—a look of “don’t let us stop you”.

“C’mon,” Beel speaks up suddenly. He grabs your wrist, swoops down to snatch the bag he had brought with him, and then leads you to the door. A few teasing calls follow you out, and you find yourself pressing closer to the Avatar of Gluttony, needing somewhere to hide.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles after a few seconds—his strides long as he leads you up the street. You struggle to keep up, your eyes darting to his face. From the looks of it, he seems a little upset with himself.

“No, Beel, you don’t need to be sorry,” you try to tell him, but he doesn’t respond. He continues to pull you along—the House of Lamentation coming into sight. However, you know that you need to do something before you arrive home. If he sets foot inside, then you’re sure he’ll bury himself in the fridge and attempt to drown out his current regretful feelings with food.

“Beel,” you say again, louder. You lift your other hand and place it atop his—fingers curling against the side of his palm. At the same time, you begin dragging your feet, forcing him to slow down—and after a few seconds, the two of you come to a stop.

Around you, the street is quiet—illuminated by soft lights overhead. Beelzebub still won’t look at you, and you sigh, gently prying his grip from your wrist. Luckily, he doesn’t put up a fight, and you cradle his palm between your own as you step around to face him.

He still looks shy, and guilt-ridden. He had mindlessly kissed you in a public space, in front of others. And sure, you don’t exactly like feeling so embarrassed, but…your words had been what sparked such a reaction from him.

“I still want you,” you admit quietly. Reaching one of your hands forward, you gently rest your palm on the swell of his chest—your eyes lingering on his lips. “It’s…okay, if you don’t feel the same, but—”

“I do,” he interrupts you, his finger cradling your jaw. He leans down to meet you halfway—and you’re once again reminded just how big of a boy Beel is—pressing to your tippy-toes as you lean into him. He’s a little more cautious this time—his lips melding with yours gently.

You sigh at the sensation—your arms lifting to wrap around Beel’s neck as you intentionally deepen the kiss—urging him on. And he takes the bait, slotting his mouth against your own.

With each passing second, you feel the warmth in your belly expand—snaking all the way to the ends of your fingers and toes. At the same time, Beel’s tongue drags against your own, your shared kisses quickly becoming more passionate. His arms wrap around your waist—pulling you against him, but you still feel too far. So, he momentarily breaks the kiss—leaning down to grab the backs of your thighs. A cry of surprise leaves you as he hefts you up.

Beel really is the size of a small tree.

“Cute,” he laughs against your lips, your legs securing themselves around him. You smack your hand against his chest—embarrassed—but he quickly smothers any rebuttal you could have said with his lips. This time, he picks up where you left off—his tongue pushing into your mouth and stealing your breath away. You moan against him—your breasts flush with his chest, and the Avatar of Gluttony has never been so aware of that fact.

However—

“Mm--!” you gasp as you feel something prominently poke against your womanhood through your jeans. Beel pulls back slightly, his cheeks dusted pink.

“I want you too,” he says, as if it isn’t already obvious. Your heart thrums at his words, and you cup his face in your hands—pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“Maybe we should get home, then.”

Beel nods, and your eyes widen as out of nowhere, his horns appear on his head. Without hesitation, the sixth born jumps into the air, and you hold onto him for dear life—even as he shifts you so you’re being held in his arms bridal style.

“Gosh, I forget you can fly,” you breathe, watching his wings flutter behind him. Beel only chuckles, his head ducking down to nuzzle at your neck. You shiver, his tongue lapping over your skin.

“You taste good,” he mumbles, his teeth nipping at your throat, and you fight to keep from whining.

“Beel, just—wait, till we’re inside, please,” you beg, your fingers running through his hair. You swear you hear a small disappointed grunt, but nonetheless Beelzebub listens—his attention refocusing on getting you back to the House of Lamentation.

As you approach, Beel goes not to the front entrance, but instead circles around the large mansion until he finds the window he’s looking for. The glass pane pushes open without trouble, and when you send him a curious glance—his feet touching down on the upper balcony of the room he shares with Belphie—Beel shrugs.

“Belphie keeps a window open in case he ever needs to sneak out.”

Honestly, a part of you is curious to know where the hell Belphie needs to be sneaking off to, but right now, that’s not your priority. No, currently, you want nothing more than to quench the throbbing ache that has settled between your legs.

“C’mere,” you say, grabbing Beel by his collar. You drag him into another messy kiss—your other hand sliding down the hard planes of his stomach until you find what you’re looking for. A guttural sound bubbles up in Beel’s throat as your fingers trace the outline of his cock—the hard member trapped within the confines of his sweats and underwear.

Oh god, he’s huge, you realize, and the thought that you may not be able to fit him (while to some may seem scary) has your already soaking panties becoming even wetter. You want to feel him inside of you—stretching you out and filling you in all the right ways. Even if it hurts, even if tears wet your eyes, and you feel like you may split.

“No fair. I want to touch you too,” he mumbles, his hands dropping to your waist. He grabs the hem of your shirt—forcing you to break the kiss as he tugs the fabric right over your head. You flush red, but Beel is nice enough to even the playing field—dragging his own shirt off of his torso. It drops onto the floor beside your own, and you immediately reach forward—your fingers dragging the length of his abs.

“You really were made in heaven,” you whisper, and Beel’s face goes red at your praise—his dick twitching within its confines. He doesn’t know what to say—so he doesn’t bother responding with words. Instead, he cradles your jaw with one hand—his mouth settling against the opposite side of your neck. He begins biting and sucking at the soft skin, and your knees feel weak. A whine leaves you—one of your hands moving to grip his hair, while the other sinks down to the waistband of his sweats.

Your fingers sneak beneath the layers of fabric, and Beel breathes a shaky, hot breath against you as your digits curl around his length. He’s thick, and hard—your hand too small to encompass his girth—but to Beel, any amount of friction feels like a taste of paradise.

As you slowly stroke him—tracing him from base to tip—the Avatar of Gluttony continues his feast on your neck. His tongue traces along your collarbone, teeth nibbling every so often, and you tug at his hair—a whine caught in your throat.

“Beel,” you pant, and you feel his member twitch in response to your breathless tone. His touch slips from your face—his palm moving downward and splaying against your breast. He frowns when he realizes your bra is hiding the soft mound from his touch, and quickly moves to slide the strap from your shoulder. Once he’s done so, he shoves his hand beneath the padded cup—your nipple slotting between two of his fingers as he gives the flesh a squeeze. You gasp—your hand tightening around his length—and Beel retaliates in turn.

He rolls your nipple between his fingers—his sharp canines scraping against your skin as he gives your shoulder a playful bite. The action sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your womanhood, and you moan, your knees buckling.

Beel is quick to steady you, his arm moving to wrap around your waist. He rears back, glancing down at you—flushed pink and eyes blown out with lust—and knows that he won’t be able to control himself much longer.

“Let’s get somewhere more comfortable,” he says—an edge to his voice. Beelzebub bends down, as if he intends to pick you up once more, but pauses. His purple eyes stray to look at your bottom half—your legs still hugged by a pair of jeans, and he frowns.

“But first, I want to get you out of these.”

His fingers pop open the button on the waistband, the zipper following soon after, and you think your heart may beat right out of your chest.

“I-I can do it!” you say, bending over to push the fabric down your legs. Beel frowns, wanting to have continued undressing you himself, but as you fold yourself over—attempting to step out of your pants—you reveal your back to him. And, in turn, the clips of your bra, which is also still frustratingly in place (well, sort of).

So, the Avatar of Gluttony makes quick work of un-securing your bra—the undergarment quickly sliding down your arms and falling to the floor just as you finish stepping out of your jeans. Your eyes go wide in shock—the hot air between your bodies breezing across all of your freshly revealed skin.

“That’s better,” Beel smiles—a playful laugh sneaking past his lips. He reaches down and tosses you over his shoulder as if you weigh nothing. You squeal, one of his hands securing you around your waist. The other rests on the inside of your thighs, but as Beel makes his way to the spiral staircase that leads down to the main area of the room, you feel his fingers brush up against your panties.

You bite your lip, your fingernails pressing small crescents into the skin of his shoulder blades as Beel moves the crotch of your underwear aside. A single digit pushes between your wet walls.

“More,” you breathe almost instantly, your hips wiggling in his hold. Beel listens faithfully, adding a second. He begins to work you open slowly—your juices rushing over his skin and a quiet moan leaving you. Beel curls his fingers as he fucks you—your legs jolting when he finds your sweet spot, and he grunts happily in response.

With each step down the stairs, his cock bounces within its confines, and Beel desperately misses your touch, which had granted him some relief. You’re so small in comparison to him, and he doesn’t want to hurt you, but he’s also aware of what you desire. So, he presses a third finger inside of you—your breath hitching as your pussy finally begins to feel the stretch.

“Too much?” he asks, stepping from the staircase. His eyes scan the room—he hadn’t even considered checking to see if Belphie was in—but luckily there’s no sign of his brother.

While Beel isn’t as greedy as Mammon, and doesn’t usually mind sharing, right now he wants you to himself.

“No,” you respond, shaking your head. Your toes curl as his long digits press all the way inside of you. “It feels—ah—really good.”

Beel steps beside his bed, and gently lowers you to the mattress—his fingers never leaving you. His gaze rakes down your body—soaking in the sight of your bare torso, and the needy look on your face as he thrusts his fingers into you once more. Your pussy clenches around him, and the Avatar of Gluttony leans down to kiss you.

“Y/N, I don’t want to hu—”

“I want you. All of you,” you interrupt him, gripping his face between your palms. There’s hesitancy knitting on his forehead, his lips frowning, and you kiss him again—smiling.

“I want your big dick inside of me, Beel.”

“Mm,” he groans at your words, his finger wetly dragging out of your cunt. You mourn the loss, eyes tracking Beel as he finally reaches to his hips, pushing his sweats and underwear down his thighs. His cock springs free, and your tongue darts out to wet your lips.

As Beel rids himself of his remaining clothes, you sit up—reaching out. Your hands enclose around him—two hands needed to cover the entirety of his girth. Beel releases a shaky sigh at the feeling, his palm resting against your hair as you lean in—lapping your tongue against the bead of pre-cum leaking from his slit.

He watches you like a hawk—his fingers rooting in your hair as you continue to kiss and lick at his length. His member throbs in your hold, and a sense of pride settles in your chest. Gathering spit on your tongue, you drag the wet muscle against a prominent vein on the underside of Beel’s shaft, and you’re rewarded with a tug of your hair.

Beel guides your head away, and you glance up, spotting his flushed cheeks.

“Don’t do that,” he says, clearly enjoying it too much—risking that the fun end too soon—and you smile, your touch disappearing from him. It’s then that Beel steps aside, kneeling against the mattress and positioning himself against the headboard. He beckons you forward—holding out his hand—and you take it after pausing to reach down and discard your panties.

He drags you up to meet him, watching as you swing your leg across his body, settling on the upper parts of his thighs. His dick sits curved against his abs, and you reach down, taking it into your hand and holding it up straight. It nearly reaches your navel…

“Oh fuck,” you say, your walls clenching. You press onto your knees—Beel’s hands finding your waist. He lifts you from the mattress, helping position your body over his pelvis. With your grip on his length, you place the head of his cock at your entrance.

Steeling himself, Beel lowers you down—your walls tight around him as he slowly sinks inside of you. You moan at the feeling—your hands moving to press against his pecs to steady yourself. With his hands still guiding you, Beel urges you even further—pausing when your breath hitches—your pussy clenching around him.

“F-Feels good. So big,” you say, reassuring him that you’re fine before he can even think to ask. Beel can see the ecstasy painted on your face, and it drives him forward. He captures your lips in a heated kiss—his tongue stealing your breath away as it enters your mouth. You moan into him—Beel swallowing your sounds as he forces you to take more of his length.

You’ve never been so full before—inklings of pain letting your brain know that it may not be a good idea to venture so deep so quickly—but you’ve never cared less. In this moment, you want nothing more than to wholly be Beel’s.

And besides—there’s nothing wrong with a little bit of pain. In fact, one may argue that it actually makes it better.

“Fuck--,” you pant, breaking the kiss for a much-needed breath of air. Your fingernails have curled into Beel’s skin—nerves on fire as he continues to slowly inch you down onto him. Heat expands throughout your limbs, fire licking at the inside of your stomach as you waver on the border of pain and pleasure. However, when you glance up at Beel’s face and see his pinched eyebrows, his eyelashes fluttering as your tight pussy grips him so deliciously—you’re reminded that this is exactly what you wanted.

Finally, after what feels like forever—but in reality, is likely less than a minute—your thighs brush the inside of Beel’s hips. The head of his cock pushes up against your cervix as he bottoms out inside of you, and you choke on a cry. Beel’s chest rises and falls rapidly beneath your palms. He’s never felt so good in his life—and despite the fact that he desperately wants to buck up into you, he knows he still needs to give you time to adjust.

So, he reaches a hand around the back of your head and guides your body forward. His mouth connects with the soft mounds of flesh on your chest—tongue flattening against your nipple—and your spine instinctively curves—pressing you closer to him.

Beel continues to alternate between your breasts—sucking, lapping, and nipping at the sensitive skin—until he finally feels your hips move against his. The action is slow, and experimental—as if testing the waters—but despite the fact that you still feel as if you may burst, the pain has died down. Now, all that’s left in its place is an overwhelming need for release.

Beel fights to contain himself as you begin rolling your body against his own—your tight, slick walls hugging his dick and dragging him closer to his demise with each passing second.

“Y/N,” he breathes, a plea caught on his tongue, and you move one of your hands to cup his face.

“You can move,” you tell him with a smile, and immediately Beel is wrapping his arms around you—hugging you to his chest. He scoots away from the headboard, his head now resting on his pillows, and you realize he’s aiming for better leverage. However, before you can think to ask if he wants you to adjust your position, Beel begins fucking up into you. You cry out, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you hold onto him for dear life.

“F-Fuck, Beel,” you moan, your breath hot on his skin. Lewd, wet sounds echo through the room with each smack of Beel’s hips, and you feel your legs begin to shake. You’ve never been so full—your walls being stretched out by his cock with each desperate thrust.

His breathing is heavy in your ear—his grip on your torso leaving no wiggle room. You’re subject to whatever Beel is craving—which is apparently a hot and heavy path to release—and you don’t even mind. Each drag of his length between your walls has the coil of pleasure in your gut winding tighter—more and more whines slipping past your lips, and Beel has never heard anything more beautiful.

“Aah--!” you cry when he adjusts his angle ever so slightly, his cock brushing up against your g-spot. Immediately you’re seeing stars, body going limp in Beel’s hold. He feels your arousal dripping down his member and onto his thighs. You’ve gotten so wet for him that he never should have worried about you not being able to take him.

“Y/N,” he groans, unable to help himself. Your pussy is swallowing him so deliciously, he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to last like this. Thankfully, you’re getting close—little chants of “Beel” “close” “please” reaching his ear.

Beel feels your pussy begin to tighten around him—your spine curving in his hold—and he knows this is it.

“Fuck,” you moan, tears appearing in your eyes as the pleasure surging throughout your body suddenly overwhelms you. Your teeth latch onto his shoulder—a desperate attempt at keeping yourself from screaming—and Beel’s rhythm stutters.

“Shit,” he breathes, beginning to lose himself, but you beat him to the finish line. With a muffled cry, you come undone around him—your pussy latching onto Beel’s cock as your orgasm swells into every inch of your body. The increased pressure on his length forces the Avatar of Gluttony to his bliss as well—shallow breaths fanning against your hair as he empties himself inside of you.

For a moment, the two of you are still—simply trying to catch your breath as you begin to come down from your highs. Then, you feel Beel’s softening length slip from inside of you—his cum leaking from your pussy—and your eyes go wide. You look up at him, face bright red, but Beel only smiles.

He presses himself up into a seated position with one arm—the other still intent on not letting you go—and then slots his lips against yours. You melt into the kiss—soft, and tender, and just what you need.

“I really enjoyed that,” you tell him, lifting your hands to cup his face.

“Me too,” he says, leaning in to kiss you again. However—

Grrrrrrrrr

You and Beel both pause, looking down at the space between your bodies. Beel moves a hand to settle against his stomach.

“Oh, I guess I haven’t had anything to eat since before I went to the gym.”

“I’m surprised you’re still alive,” you snort, and Beel chuckles—swooping in to kiss you once more before his hands find your waist and lift you off of him.

“Do you want anything from the kitchen?” he asks, scooting off the bed. You watch him as he grabs his sweats from the floor, slipping them back on over his legs. You realize from his question that he fully expects you to spend the remainder of the night here, with him, and your heart flutters.

“I’ll snack on whatever you bring back,” you tell him, and Beel nods. Not bothering to put on a shirt, the Avatar of Gluttony heads to the door. Within seconds, you’re alone in the room, and you move to the edge of the mattress. You press your feet to the ground, gasping when your legs wobble—threatening to give out.

He really fucked me so good that I can barely walk, you think, cheeks pink. Your eyes turn to the spiral staircase. You had been intending to go upstairs and get your clothes, but you don’t want to risk tripping and hurting yourself.

So, instead you cautiously make your way to Beel’s dresser. You dig out a long t-shirt, and then head into the bathroom. After cleaning yourself up, you return to the main room—Beel’s clean shirt covering your torso.

You’ve just replanted yourself on his bed when the door clicks open. Your gaze turns up, expecting to see Beel standing there with a mountain of food in his arms, but instead you find…Belphegor.

He’s frowning at you, suspicion in his gaze. His eyes rake around the room, pupils narrowed.

“You’re wearing Beel’s shirt,” he finally says.

“My clothes were dirty,” you counter. Belphie cocks an eyebrow—a grin tugging at his lips.

“Okay. Then explain the hickies on your neck, and why the room currently reeks of sex.”

At that…you can only turn red, and Belphegor sighs. He opens his mouth, as if to complain, but then pauses. His eyes widen, gaze raking over you once more.

“…you fit him?”

And now, you really think you might die of embarrassment.

#om!#obey me #obey me fic #beelzebub x reader #beelzebub x mc #beel x mc #beel x reader #obey me beelzebub #beel smut #beel fic

1K notes · View notes

mcrmadness · 3 years

Note

14, 15, 33 (like generally in people, not dating-wise), 40, 47 :D

Ask game: Unusual asks.

Thanks! 8D

14: What is your least favorite word?

In which language? :D Also this is probably the hardest question in this ask game because I literally don't know XD But I try to think about something.

OH NOW I KNOW! I hope people don't get mad at me but RIGHT NOW my least favorite word is "gender envy". I just have this thing when I'm exposed to something against my will - could be a word, a celebrity's face (or name) or even just a tv series - and too often in very short time, and suddenly I just get an overload of that and I feel so fed up with it and can no longer tolerate it AT ALL and everything about said thing just gets on my nerves and makes me so angry that if it's e.g. a tv series someone's watching, I simply have to leave the room because I can't stand anything about it at all anymore, not even the musics nor actors' voices.

So lately this happened to me with this word. It just came out of nowhere and I see so many using it now and I can't escape because it's not only on Tumblr, it's also on Discord and on every freaking website I go to, and I feel like I'm going crazy but I just can't NOT SEE that word because there's no way to avoid it. Even if I filtered the tag on Tumblr, I'd still have to see the word because Tumblr would tell me "this post was filtered for the tag #gender envy". And it kinda sucks.

(I'm agender/nonbinary so I don't feel gender envy because there's no one born without a physical gender and I usually don't look at snails or so and be like "I wish I had its gender" - besides they are hermaphrodite and not genderless so...)

***

15: What is your favorite word?

This is also something I haven't really thought about. Okay my brain just said I should say: Gotham. Because it's one of my favorite tv series, after Gotham City which is Batman's home city, and if you put that word in half you get: Got-Ham.

That's why my siblings (they're 26 btw) started talking about the show with the Finnish word for ham: kinkku. So my sister would ask my brother "Should we watch 'Kinkku'?" when she wanted to continue watching Gotham :DDDDDDDD

***

This got bit long so the next ones under the cut...

33: What turns you off?

The lack of sense of humour. I seriously don't think I'd ever be able to get along with someone who either has no sense of humour at all or has it completely different from mine.

Also people who don't respect others, people who refuse to listen to others. Nothing makes me angrier and more frustrated than when I'm trying to say something and people say "I don't care." and won't let me even finish because they don't want to hear what I have to say only because they THINK they're gonna disagree. And even if they do disagree, it'd still be nice of them to let people finish before proclaiming that they disagree. Not doing that makes a person just an asshole.

And another thing is the music taste, having it different won't make a friendship impossible, but it always drops my mood a bit to learn I again listen to different bands and genres altogether than someone new I learnt to know, because it seems to be something that just always keeps happening...

***

40: First concert you attended

It was in 2007 and My Chemical Romance's concert in Finland. It was also their first gig in Finland ever. The concert took place in Helsinki, I was 16 and met a few internet friends I had but mainly spent time with my parents who I went to the concert with. The gig itself was insane, I had never been to an actual concert before because I was so afraid of big crowds because of my social anxiety and I always thought I don't care about going to concerts. But something in me needed to experience an MCR concert and I'm glad that I did that, because I really like going to concerts now. Every time I feel like dying tho, but somehow I still end up buying concert tickets anyway XD

The concert itsel was insane and I didn't even feel the anxiety there at all! After the concert we were hanging out near the venue and my parents already wanted to leave but I just had this feeling that we should not leave yet, and then they said we have to go now so I started walking after them and crying, and that's when I heard girls screaming behind the venue and as we went there, Frank was actually there writing signatures, and we quickly ran there and I don't remember anything else but this small group and we just handed him the ticket, he wrote his name and we left :D

Here's a photo, I still find it hard to believe that I got Frank's signature but this ticket is a proof of that so I guess I just have to trust it XD

After all that we then visited this "Rock McDonald's" in Helsinki, it's just some regular McDonald's with rock themed furniture and music and that night they were playing only MCR, and from there we went back to the hotel.

***

47: What’s your favorite holiday?

I think I answered this question in another ask a couple of weeks ago but I don't remember what I said :D Probably talked about Christmas but now I started wondering it this means like... those HOLIDAYS like Christmas, or just any kind of free days from school and work. Because I've been having one long weekend for the past 2 years, and before that holidays didn't really exist for me because horses need to be fed and taken care of no matter what the calendar says :D

Anyway I think I'm gonna say: Midsummer. In Finland it's a big thing. Well, for most it just means drinking and partying outside, but not for me because I hate people and don't drink alcohol lmao. No but, I actually was born on Midsummer Eve, the Eve is never the exact same date every year (it's always a Friday, tho) so when I have my birthday, it's not necessarily that year's Midsummer Eve. Apparently also not this year, so usually I'm having my birthday during Midsummer but I haven't celebrated it since I turned 18, so it's not really a big deal for me. I'd rather forget about it because I have had an age crisis since I was 23... anyhow, this year I'm gonna turn 30 so I know it's gonna be a bit bigger thing for my family and relatives but I'd rather not be reminded of that because for the past 10 years I have just been worrying about how 30 is closer every year because when I hit that age, then 40 will be closer than ever, too ::D

A "fun" fact about Midsummer and what it means in Finland: Every year everyone wishes for bad and good weather simultaneously because people want to spend the day in good weather but good weather means people like to go swimming. And alcohol + swimming is NEVER a good combination and the warmer the day, the more people will drown. Every Midsummer Day or the first work day after Midsummer weekend, you will find reports from all newspapers about how many people drowned this time. The nicer the weather, the bigger the number(s)... It's terrible, and people are adviced to look after their friends and family and never leave anyone alone near the water when alcohol is involved. Even I have sometimes kept an eye on someone because they were drunk and went close to the lake (not necessarily during Midsummer, but whenever I've been spending time with my mom and her siblings and friends at a summer cottage).

I don't want to end this so dramatically so I also want to say that I like Midsummer because in Finland, the sun never really sets during summer. And during Midsummer the nights are usually the brightest and soon after that it starts getting darker and darker again. It always makes me sad because the summer is so short here, but I really love these summer nights when there's like 3 hours between the sunset and sunrise but the sky doesn't even have time to turn dark during that time. Finnish summer is something special and magical.

It's probably impossible to imagine and incredibly difficult to show in photos too, but here's my attempt:

This one was taken in (the beginning of) June 2017, at 2:00 in the morning during this photo. I think it's very close to the actual lighting of that night. It's so easy to get too dark or bright photos with a proper camera and I can never remember afterwards which of the brightnesses was the correct one. (Btw we [aka me because I'm the only one of my family with a driver's license] were driving back home from Helsinki, we were to Helsinki because of a Rammstein concert :D)

I also have some photos taken at 9pm what looks more like it was in the middle of the day, and also a photo I took at 3am and it looks like it's a daytime too. It's slightly darker between 11pm and 2am and then it gets bright again. But I'm too lazy to add them to this because they just look like daytime photos and you only have my word about the actual time, so it still doesn't feel the same as actually being outside at 3am while it's bright as day :D

#lebignom #ask games

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calsgirll · 4 years

Text

Paris - Ashton Irwin

Ashton Irwin X Reader

word count: 1711

authors note: this is based around the song Paris by the chainsmokers! I heard the song for this first time in a while and this immediately hit me so here it is!❤️

We were staying in Paris To get away from your parents

It had been a rough year for you and Ashton, with him on tour and you still living at home with your parents. You felt like he’d had no time for you since he started touring with the guys. Due to your past relationships your brain didn’t settle thinking of all the things he could be doing and you wouldn’t even know. One morning you woke up to the sound of your phone going crazy with text messages from the whole band telling you to open your front door. As you padded downstairs at 3am you tried to keep it quiet knowing your parents where probably asleep, you unlatched the door and peeked out not knowing what it would be and being very wary but you looked down and all you saw was a heart shaped foil balloon with a note and rose attached. You picked it up reading the note which said

‘pack your bags and be ready for 6 am. We’re going somewhere special’- Ash

you smiled rubbing your thumb over the small sticker of the Eiffel tower in the corner of the note.

And I thought, "Wow If I could take this in a shot right now I don't think that we could work this out"

“fuck you ash” you scream at him throwing a mug at the wall in anger “are you serious right now y/n, you really believe a few shitty rumours you saw on twitter?” Ashton asks trying to keep calm while you stand in front of him with puffy eyes and damp cheeks “the paparazzi has photos of you leaving a club with her what am I supposed to think” you say trying to collect yourself “do you trust me at all? Because I’m starting to get the hint that you don’t. you knew what you were getting into when we started dating” he snaps back at you now visibly angry at the fact you’re questioning his fidelity. You grab his hand as he tries to walk out “Ash im sorry, it just gets a lot knowing your out there being an amazing drummer with millions of girls throwing themselves at you” you squeak trying to hold in the tears that are threatening to fall any second, he looks at you with a sympathetic smile and sighs “I know its hard not being together all the time but please stay strong because you know I love you” he pulls you into his large frame.

It felt like that was yesterday, the first real fight you’d both had with each other. It was almost as if it was like a polaroid that was constantly hung up in your head. You where so grateful for him and the fact he stayed with you and allowed you both to get to this point.

Out on the terrace I don't know if it's fair but I thought "How Could I let you fall by yourself While I'm wasted with someone else"

Ashton glanced around at the Paris skyline as you both sat on the balcony. The glimmering Eiffel tower caught his eye, a thought popped into his head as he stifled a giggle you looked at him confused as to what he was so amused about “are you a tower? because Eiffel for you” he says with a smug smirk on his face like he’d came up with the line. You smile at him knowing how much of a idiot he was, you were both glad you had this time together, it felt like you were in a relationship with a ghost as he was almost never home and you were waiting around for someone who was out there with a load of other people probably not even having a second thought about you but he was extremely quick to reassure you that wasn’t the case and if it was as much as it would hurt you both he would break it off knowing that it wouldn’t be fair to you.

If we go down then we go down together They'll say you could do anything They'll say that I was clever

You sipped your latte as you sat on a small metal table in front of a small café. Ashton’s scrolling through his phone while you admire the city around you “what are we gonna do today?” you ask Ash like he’s your personal tour guide since he’s been here before. “whatever you want to do, anything you can think of we’ll do it” he says looking up from his phone and squinting when the harsh sunlight hits his hazel eyes. His eyes where like honey in the sun, he always claimed he hated the colour of his eyes whereas you believed they were the most amazing things you’d ever seen “you know I’m bad at making decisions Irwin” you smirk at him “we could go to the Louvre?” he looks up at you once again, you hum in response as you take another sip of your latte “even though they don’t have the best masterpiece, you” he snickered you kicked his shin under the table “youre so lame you know” you state he nods his head gazing back down at his phone.

You look so proud Standing there with a frown and a cigarette Posting pictures of yourself on the internet

You snapped a shot of Ashton next to the Eiffel tower he looked amazing as always he stays stood in the same spot for a while just staring at you, cigarette between your fingers fumbling with your phone he presumed you were adding filters etc. to the picture you just took he strolled over to you resting his chin on your shoulder watching your phone as you tap away at different things trying to make the picture match the theme of your Instagram. As you add the finishing touches to the photo you switch to Instagram before stamping out your cigarette and post it with a rose emoji as the caption and tagging him in it. He turns his head placing a kiss on your cheek “I love you so much” he states, you turn around facing him putting your hand inside his leather jacket wrapping them tightly around his waist “I love you too Ash, thank you” you say breathing in his citrusy cologne “thank you for what?” he asks with a confused look on his face “just being you and sticking with me through all my crazy meltdowns, there’s no one else id rather be with here than you” you say, you feel him kiss the top of your head as he holds you even tighter.

Out on the terrace We breathe in the air of this small town On our own cuttin' class for the thrill of it

Getting drunk on the past we were livin' in

You and Ashton found yourselves back out on the balcony in only your robes in a comfortable silence, tipsy and tired. Your mind began to wonder to where it all started.

“no you didn’t even get close to the bullseye, take a shot” you laugh as you watch him swallow down another shot after missing a dart yet again “I’m starting to think you’re cheating” he mutters “how can you even cheat in darts? You’re just a sore loser who’s to drunk to know I’m the best darts player ever” you giggle slightly slurring your words. It was nearly 2 am and all your friends had left after a drunken night of embarrassing ourselves which left you in a bar on your own with the one and only Ashton Irwin who you recognised from that one underwear song a few years back. He was quick to correct you that it was called she looks so perfect and was also quick to tell you he had changed a lot since then. You both started talking also noticing how his friends also left one bye one “and then there where two” he giggles “I guess so what are the plans then” you ask him sipping the tiny straws that are floating in your mojito glass “back to my hotel to watch some shitty lifetime movie?” he ask studying your face to see your reaction by the way it lit up he knew that you were in “watching shitty lifetime movies is actually my favourite past time” you say grabbing your bag and drinking the last of your cocktail.

You thought it was strange how that one night you spent with him ended up becoming such an amazing relationship. Youre glad it happened so naturally because online dating wasn’t your thing it felt kinda forced. The story was definitely one to tell the grandchildren you though smiling looking down at the empty beer bottle in your hand.

We'll get away with everything Let's show them we are better

It was your last night in Paris and you and Ashton decided to go on a walk around the beautiful city, it was almost 9pm and the sky was sparkling almost as much as the Eiffel tower in front of you “shall we go up?” Ashton asks quietly “Ash you know I’m afraid of heights” you whined wondering why your boyfriend would ask such a dumb question after knowing you for so long “come on please it’ll be worth it I promise” he pleads and after around 10 minutes of bargaining you find yourself half way up the tower waiting to get to the top. Your tight grip on Ashtons hand not releasing in fear you may just drop and fall without his strong arm holding you. You make it to the top and see the twinkling city which makes you forget how high up you are because of its beauty. You speed walk to railing wanting to get a closer look not noticing Ashton wasn’t by your side anymore “Ash have you seen how beautiful this is?” you ask expecting him to come to your side but he didn’t “ashton?” you say turning around to find him down on one knee with the biggest smile on his face ever. Your hands instantly fly to cover your mouth which was agape in shock. “y/n will you marry me?”

#Ashton irwin #ashtonirwin #Ashton Irwin fic #Ashton Irwin fanfction #Ashton x reader #Ashton Irwin x reader #Ashton Irwin rec #5sos #5 seconds of summer #calum hood #Michael clifford #Luke hemmings #Ashton Irwin fluff #Ashton

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lovecaitlined · 5 years

Text

Chemistry // College! Jungkook AU BTS fic

College! Jungkook AU

In which everyone’s favorite maknae is your shy lab groupmate in Chemistry...and soon, your best friend too...

Who doesn’t know Jeon Jungkook?

Well...a lot of people, actually...

Including yourself.

He’s not the most talkative person in class—

Actually, you’d go as far as to call him shy and introverted,

which is saying a lot, considering how quiet you yourself are.

He seems pretty nice, though!

The first time you noticed him, like really noticed him, was when he sat diagonally in front of you in organic chemistry class,

And you couldn’t help but notice his cute dimple, and the glistening single earring in his left ear as he bent over his desk to take down notes.

OrgChem was that one subject you dreaded every single MWF,

Like sure, you had a pretty good prof who was great at explaining things, but it still managed to melt your brain like all those chemical concoctions.

His cute face sort of brightened up your day, even though he was pretty silent and spent all his time pushing up his glasses nervously with his left hand and furiously scribbling down notes with his right.

And speaking of chemical concoctions...

He was your groupmate in lab!

Other than being in your OrgChem class, you didn’t really notice him much until you realized he was your lab groupmate.

You actually feel kind of bad because you’re usually lost during lab...

Your 3rd groupmate was usually MIA (rumor has it that he left school to become a K-pop trainee), and well, let’s face it: You weren’t the brightest Bunsen burner in the room.

You were usually lost af...

As if pre-lab and post-lab weren’t already hell enough to process, you had the entire experiment to get over with.

Other groups boded well, you were sure of it,

But you were just always so lost?!

The heat of the lab would get to you, your eyes claustrophobic behind ginormous goggles, your hands sweating in gigantic white gloves,

And let’s not forget your lab coat, which was two sizes too big for you.

Jungkook didn’t seem to notice, though...

Actually, he didn’t seem to notice anything—

Or so you thought.

Anyway, Jungkook was always so nice.

He’d always let you order him around

Well, not really order. But you didn’t get a thing.

“Jungkook, did you get what Ma’am said? What was that about combining Test Tube A and Test Tube B—”

“She means to heat up the contents of Test Tube A first in the beaker before adding in Test Tube B. Here, I’ll do it for you.”

“No, no, that’s okay! That’s fine! Um...how do you turn on the Bunsen burner?”

You were a hopeless case.

But Jungkook didn’t mind!

In fact, he was so nice about it.

He was always so patient and willing to teach you everything.

Soon, you became less lost and you began to feel less guilty for how much he was carrying your group since you actually got to do you part now.

You soon began to appreciate Jungkook for who he really was.

A quiet dude, but really sweet and kind at that.

An introvert, but passionate in his studies.

He wasn’t one of those people who topped the class, but he did get good grades, mostly A’s and the occasional B+.

He was probably gonna get an A- in OrgChem, and frankly, you were slightly jealous.

But you really admired the passion and dedication he put into his studies, as well as his work ethic.

And Jungkook may be shy, but he was starting to warm up to you, too!

Like he’d flash you a smile from beneath those huge goggles during lab...

Or he’d crack a joke or two once in a while.

His favorite prank was dropping some explosive substance into the flames and silently laughing at your horrified face every time you yelled, “NO!!!!!!!!!”

He was always so quiet, so serious, so focused,

But in between lulls in the lesson, or waiting for something to change color, you guys would talk.

It was nothing much, just a lil small talk at first,

But they soon became full-fledged conversations.

Jungkook originally wanted to be a musician, but his parents wanted him to become a doctor. He refused, but as a compromise, he had to take chemical engineering instead.

You’d have taken chemical engineering too, but you thought you would find it too difficult. Chem wasn’t your strong point. So here you were, a civil engineering student, with a minor in Chemistry.

You told Jungkook how much you hated OrgChem and you were surprised when he said he could tutor you.

“Oh no, it’s fine! Really. You don’t have to—”

“I mean, I’m busy, but I could...”

You guys resolved to have him teach and clarify for you the hard bits of the lesson during lab when the experiments weren’t too busy...

And Jungkook had such a smooth voice, and he was pretty good at explaining things.

(Actually, you could see traces of his musical inclination here and there—he sang and hummer to himself a bit while listening to your professor)

Your chem grades improved; sure, they didn’t soar as high as his did, but that B+ was something to be proud of.

Even after the sem had ended, you’d still see him the next year around campus

You’d always bump into each other and exchange greetings.

“Hey, what’s up?”

You two ran into each other more than you should have, though

And since you had the same lunch break some days, you both thought, Why not eat with each other?

So eat with each other you did, and you enjoyed having him as a lunch buddy.

He was pretty cute with that sweet smile and dimple, but well, you weren’t ready to admit that to yourself, yet.

So you two would have lunch together at times,

Nothing fancy, though, just standard college cafeteria good, although you had to admit the food was pretty solid for what it was

And the company made it taste even better.

Jungkook became more animated when he was around you

Or at least you thought so.

One of his friends, Jimin, was in your English Literature class and one day, completely out of the blue when you were paired for a Shakespeare reading, he sincerely thanked you for being nice to his friend.

To which you were like, “Oh, no! It’s no problem! He’s probably helped me a lot more than I’ve helped him—”

But Jimin just replied, with a small, knowing smile on his face, “Trust me. I know. So thank you.”

“Jungkook has been happier these days because of you,” he added.

You felt kind of flustered and flattered and thanked him in a hurry before sprinting off to your next class. What was that about?

But honestly, you didn’t really mind having Jungkook around, either...

After a month or two, your friends would notice you hanging out more and more together...and would tease you about it...

They’d ask, “Are you and that guy, you know, a thing?”

To which you’d reply, “Me and Jeon Jungkook? No, no,” while laughing nervously.

But lunch buddies became library buddies became official friends...

Jungkook and you would talk a lot, about your hopes and dreams for the future.

“I want to be a singer or a musician or something,” he admitted to you sheepishly one day. “I mean, I know it’s ridiculous, because, don’t laugh, I’m, well, shy and all, but I’ve really wanted to be one for quite some time now!”

“I would never laugh at you!” you’d tell him. “In fact, that’s great. As your friend, I support.”

He looked a little sad that day, but you didn’t think too much about it.

After all, you kind of envied him a bit then and there. Imagine having so much passion and hard work for a dream, and working so diligently at a college course you weren’t even interested in.

At least he had dreams. What did you have?

Must be nice to have you ish together.

But you two continued to hang out more and more.

One day, after your Coding class, you walked out the computer lab to find him standing in the hallway.

You looked at him, agape. “J...Jungkook?”

He looked sheepish. “Hey.”

You smiled. “How did you know my schedule?”

“I, uh, you must have sent it to me once.”

“Ah. I see.”

Awkward silence.

Then, you asked, “Did...did you want to tell me something?”

He grinds his teeth. “Erm, yeah. Do you want to have dinner with me on Friday night?”

Your eyes widened. “What?!” you exclaimed.

“Ah, no, no, no!” he said, shaking his head and waving his hands quickly. “You...you don’t have to if you don’t want to!”

You laughed. “Calm down! I mean...I would love to! I’m just...shocked, I guess, that you would ask me that.”

He smiles, showing his dimply face again, while looking at the ground. “Yeah.”

It was Wednesday then. It took all of two days for that fated night to come,

And you weren’t gonna deny, you thought about it constantly all the time.

You didn’t really have any classes with him anymore then, but it was still strange that you didn’t seem him anywhere around campus, almost as if...as if he were avoiding you? Your anxiety began to kick in: What if he stood you up?

No. No, no, no. Stop that, you told yourself. You’re being ridiculous. Jungkook would never do that.

He met you outside your dorm at exactly 6pm. He was dressed casually but nicely, in a white button-down and jeans, and beat-up sneakers.

You had on a nice halter top and denim skirt, with the strappy, pointy black flats you got on sale recently. You hoped you weren’t underdressed.

He smiled when he saw you at the doorway. “You look great! Shall we?”

The night went pretty well!!! You two had dinner in that new pasta restaurant a few train stops away from the university, and you walked around the park for a bit.

Talking. That’s what you did. You’d never seen Jungkook more animated than ever then, and you didn’t have to try, either. The conversation flowed as smoothly and nicely as could be. It was, frankly, invigorating.

By the time you guys cared to check the time again, it was getting late. Jungkook looked at his watch. “9PM. Your dorm curfew is 10, right?”

You nodded. “Right.”

“Well, let’s catch the bus now while there still time...” his voice trailed off. “But first...”

There was an element of alarm in his voice, making you look up. “Yes?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “I...I wanted to tell you something.”

Your heart drops.

“I...I like you.”

You’re not sure just exactly what you felt at that moment, but you smiled. Finally, after months and months of getting to know each other and friendship.

Honestly, you weren’t sure either. But he was the sweetest and kindest person in the world, and you were glad you met him.

Jungkook wouldn’t look you in the eye any longer after he said that, so you take your hand and make sure you make eye contact with him.

“Jeon Jungkook, I like you, too.”

He looked up to you then and smiled the biggest smile you’d ever seen him smile.

Jungkook isn’t a guy of many words, but that’s okay, so are you

Though arguably, you’re the more talkative, more animated one in your relationship.

Your friends and his friends would tease you too, saying things like, “Finally” or “It’s been months!” or “I bet he only said ‘I like you’ for his confession instead of some grand speech” and, well...couldn’t really argue with that.

But his conversations with you are always your favorite, because that’s when you see him for who he truly is, and because that’s when he pours his heart out.

You two are only yourselves when you’re with each other, after all.

(Even when he begins to show his crazier side, like pranking you, scaring you, or making horrible puns like “I guess we really had some chemistry, huh,” and you really want to smack him but you don’t because you love him that much.)

He’s still very passionate about the things he loves, like music and chemistry, which you love—

And he would never stop to work hard at fulfilling his dreams.

But you know what that means?

It means that he’s really passionate about you, too.

The End

♡

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #chemistry #jungkook fic #jungkookfic #bts #army #fanfiction #fanfic #kpop #k-pop #kpop fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fic #love #college #university

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zeoia · 6 years

Text

I don’t know if she was handling it poorly or we were handling it poorly, but needless to say, it didn’t go well.

She was paranoid, I was sleep deprived and then later very distraught because of my own personal health issues.

Long chatlog under readmore. Again, I don’t know how to interact with someone with borderline personality disorder. I’m not going to pretend to know how it works. I could have been saying all the wrong things. It doesn’t work the same as my depression/anxiety. So I very well could have been the awful person in this scenario. I don’t know. I just know she needed help.

After everything, I ended up with this in my FB

HER-Yesterday at 11:02 PM

I don't know hwat I've done

I don't know

I need to know

I'm sorry

I'm a terrible person

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:03 PM

Did you always talk about negative things

That's

HER-Yesterday at 11:03 PM

She said she didn't mind

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:03 PM

Not true

HER-Yesterday at 11:03 PM

that she could handle me

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:03 PM

Even if people don't mind they can still be tired out by it

HER-Yesterday at 11:03 PM

I don't know what I did

She was going to visit

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:04 PM

I don't see you as a bad person

HER-Yesterday at 11:04 PM

I've been saving coins

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:04 PM

Calm down

HER-Yesterday at 11:04 PM

I WANT TO KNOW

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:04 PM

You are jumping to conclusions

HER-Yesterday at 11:04 PM

I WANT TO KNOW WHAT I DID

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:04 PM

I will talk to her just calm down

HER-Yesterday at 11:04 PM

What if she removed you too

I didn't meant to upset her

I didn't know I had

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:07 PM

She's not online right now so I can't do much until she shows up. If she does for me. Like you said she might have unfriended me too

HER-Yesterday at 11:07 PM

But why#

Why

She was going to visit

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:08 PM

I don't know

Last I talked to her was in May

HER-Yesterday at 11:09 PM

I don't understand

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:09 PM

I don't talk to her often enough to know, alright?

HER-Yesterday at 11:09 PM

I don't understand

People keep telling me they won't hate me

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:09 PM

Worrying is not going to help

HER-Yesterday at 11:09 PM

but they do!

THEY IE

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:09 PM

Stop it

HER-Yesterday at 11:09 PM

LIE LIE LIE LIE LIE LIE

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:09 PM

Stop

You are jumping to conclusions again

HER-Yesterday at 11:09 PM

No I'm not!

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:09 PM

Yes you are

HER-Yesterday at 11:09 PM

She just stoped my call

I know she did

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:10 PM

HER-Yesterday at 11:10 PM

I tried to phone

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:10 PM

Did you try to call her on here

HER-Yesterday at 11:10 PM

I called her phone

2 rings

hang up

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:10 PM

Did you think about the fact that maybe it's kinda late to be taking phonecalls

HER-Yesterday at 11:11 PM

9pm

Is that too late?

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:11 PM

For me yeah

After 8 I don't want my phone ringing

Look, she could be busy

HER-Yesterday at 11:12 PM

She hates me

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:12 PM

Gimme her phone number and I'll call her in the morning

Stop worrying

HER-Yesterday at 11:12 PM

I don't know if she'd want her number given out

I don't know

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:12 PM

Stop saying negative stuff like that

HER-Yesterday at 11:12 PM

It's true

I know it is

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:12 PM

Look

HER-Yesterday at 11:12 PM

I've seen it so many times

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:13 PM

If you keep having that mindset

HER-Yesterday at 11:13 PM

I form a connection with someone

They hate me

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:13 PM

If you keep saying those things

You will make them come true

You will push people away

Because of your paranoia it will come off as you not trusting your friends

And nobody wants to be friends with someone if they aren't trusted

Trust in me and [blank] alright?

If she hated you I don't think she would have given you her phone number

HER-Yesterday at 11:15 PM

She gave it before the hate

The hate is recent

I truested [blank]

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:15 PM

Look it's almost midnight here and I'm tired

HER-Yesterday at 11:15 PM

Please don't hate me too

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:16 PM

Give me a log of your last conversation and I'll analyze it and see if there's any reason to doubt [blank]

I want you to stop acting like it's already over

Like I said, if you keep doing stuff like that

Keep saying stuff like that

You will make it come true yourself because you end up deeming yourself unworthy of friends

But you are loved

HER-Yesterday at 11:17 PM

no.. no no.. I don't like doing that

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:17 PM

So stop saying bad things

Stop making it worse

HER-Yesterday at 11:18 PM

It is over tho... I've seen this before

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:18 PM

Try to keep convincing yourself otherwise

I can't keep talking to a brick wall like this. You're unmoving

You really do not want to feel better apparently

HER-Yesterday at 11:19 PM

With Naomi.. with others.. I've tusted they might come back..

I've seen it too often

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:19 PM

Sometimes people grow apart

It's not uncommon

It sucks but it's not the end of the world

HER-Yesterday at 11:20 PM

But we was fine a week ago... I just got worried about the idea of her bringing Bella...

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:20 PM

I had a friend for nine years

And had to break off the friendship

HER-Yesterday at 11:20 PM

Because she's an illigal breed and I also don't trust her destructivness

Zeoia-Yesterday at 11:21 PM

My brother and his best friend stopped being friends last year. Childhood friends.

They grew apart

It happens

It hurts but it happens

Again I don't know what happened w you and [blank] so I can't say either way

Just give me time

Please be patient

It is almost midnight and I am very tired

June 12, 2018

HER-Today at 12:16 AM

... Another friend was back to add friend too... but I was on the phone to her when I noticed so it was confirmed she didn't hate me... and it must've done it its self..

Zeoia-Today at 12:16 AM

So it's a discord error

HER-Today at 12:16 AM

Maybe...

I don't know

Zeoia-Today at 12:17 AM

I told you that you were jumping to conclusions

HER-Today at 12:17 AM

I don't know

Zeoia-Today at 12:17 AM

Technology does weird shit all the time

Eating messages, removing friends, altering settings

It's not uncommon

HER-Today at 12:20 AM

"Your message could not be delivered because you don't share a server with the recipient or you disabled direct messages on your shared server, recipient is only accepting direct messages from friends, or you were blocked by the recipient."

Goes back to panic

Zeoia-Today at 12:23 AM

If it accidentally removed friends for you then it would also have removed you from her list

Anyway I'm sleepy

Gnight

HER-Today at 12:56 AM

I don't know if me and the other person were ever friends or just server buddies now

HER-Today at 5:05 AM

You still show as a mutual friend on her thing... it is clear now she hates me and this is targeted at me.. The worst thing is dreaming about it.. waking up and it's still real.

Zeoia-Today at 5:05 AM

Stop it stop it stop it.

Your negative thinking, your constant pessimist views on everything, they're exhausting, even for the people who still love and care about you.

I got a response from her and she told me herself that she doesn't hate you

But your behavior is extremely upsetting

It's exhausting

HER-Today at 5:08 AM

I don't know what I said

Zeoia-Today at 5:08 AM

I don't know either

HER-Today at 5:08 AM

I didn't know she was getting upset

Zeoia-Today at 5:08 AM

Give me a moment I am on mobile

HER-Today at 5:09 AM

She told me if there was problems she'd tell me first

Zeoia-Today at 5:10 AM

I don't hate her. I am managing okay. I unfriended her for my sanity. I've told her in the past what my problem was and she hasn't done anything to stop. I cut her from my life so I wouldn't keep getting upset. I can't demand her to change. I can't expect her to change. I've told her my problem and hoped she would improve. That never happened. What I can do is remove myself from the situation.

If you want you can reassure her that I'm managing okay, I don't hate her, and I already told her my issue. I am removing myself from the situation so I don't keep getting upset. She should accept that and stop dragging others into her messes.

Directly from [blank] herself.

HER-Today at 5:10 AM

I don't understand

Zeoia-Today at 5:11 AM

ARE YOU READING WHAT I JUST POSTED

look I just woke up to go to the bathroom but I decided to check on you before going back to sleep

Excuse me for being blunt but I'm not sure beating around the bush is going to help.

You need a lot of mental help from a counselor. Your behavior makes people very upset. You are always talking about bad things and are always upset about something.

HER-Today at 5:14 AM

I can't think what promote

Problem

Zeoia-Today at 5:14 AM

I don't hate you. I don't think anyone hates you

LISTEN TO ME.

I am telling you right now

Stop thinking. Stop typing. LISTEN.

HER-Today at 5:15 AM

She told me she was able to handle it better

Zeoia-Today at 5:15 AM

She thought she was

Look

Stop

Stop typing

Do not make any more thoughts with your brain on the subject

[blank] is a strong person. She has been through a lot of shit. But even when people are strong, there are some things that weigh them down and they will wear a smile anyway, even if they are hurting

I'm in a similar situation with someone where I have to limit contact for my fucking sanity

I don't hate them. There wasn't just one instance of a problem

Just overall we don't mix well

Until you get help, you are probably going to end up pushing people away again

I don't want to upset you. I don't want you to think that I hate you

But I have to be honest

You keep saying stuff like "it's going to happen, I know it" and inviting yourself to just fucking fulfill that prophecy

HER-Today at 5:21 AM

She proved it

Zeoia-Today at 5:21 AM

Get. Some. Help.

See a counselor

HER-Today at 5:21 AM

THEY DON'T WANT TO

Zeoia-Today at 5:21 AM

Your friends are not counselors

HER-Today at 5:22 AM

They see me all fine.

Zeoia-Today at 5:22 AM

What kinda fucking bullshit counselors are you seeing that don't see that there's a problem

HER-Today at 5:23 AM

They don't see me on the floor screaming because I've got emotional intensity disorder

Zeoia-Today at 5:23 AM

I DEMAND you to go looking into more counselors

I DEMAND you to show them our chat log from today

Like, save this chat log. Fucking save all of it

I want you to get better because at this rate you are going to believe yourself into a permanent state of"the whole world is against me"

HER-Today at 5:26 AM

I want to talk to [blank]... We was going to do adventures... she told me we'd do adventures... does she think I was being emotionally manipulative.. that was her big issue before..

I'm already there

Zeoia-Today at 5:29 AM

Yeah, you are emotionally manipulative. I'm sorry for being honest but you are literally right here right now, in my direct messages, demanding to know what you did to make [blank] upset. You are extremely clingy from what I can tell, and it is probably because you have abandonment issues.

This behavior probably upsets [blank] a lot more than you think because she just got out of a very toxic relationship with someone. Y'know. The one where she had to move because she was abused

HER-Today at 5:30 AM

I know

But I can't even think when I was doing it

Zeoia-Today at 5:31 AM

I'm aware

That is your problem.

You don't realize when you are upsetting people

You don't know how manipulative you can get. You are tugging at me currently, because [blank] is no longer there for you

I didn't just go through a terrible divorce with a manipulative lying prick so I can handle your manipulative behavior a bit better

But you have to fucking get some help

Do not just give up

Look at it like a video game. Do you get further in a video game just by being all like "oh, the characters told me I can't go this way even though it's the only way to the next area"

You need to get better and the only way you can get better is to demand that someone fucking help you

Who is currently in your life right now? IRL I mean.

HER-Today at 5:35 AM

No. I do give up. I can't do this. I can't do this screaming.. I didn't try to manipulate her into anything. I always told her things were ultimately her choice. Yes I got upset with the dog idea but it was still ultimately up to her. I just might've liked her to stay elsewhere...

Zeoia-Today at 5:36 AM

You are too upset all the time

HER-Today at 5:36 AM

It comes with the fucking disorder.

Zeoia-Today at 5:36 AM

I know that

And you need to get more help for it

Don't tell me they won't help

Because I know there's someone out there who can and will help

HER-Today at 5:37 AM

The government has cut their resources so much

Zeoia-Today at 5:38 AM

Okay? I live in shit hole America where we have to pay out the ass just to get a fucking checkup

Use your fucking resources.

HER-Today at 5:38 AM

I'm fucking trying

Zeoia-Today at 5:39 AM

You are on the internet right now

Google shit. Look for local support groups.

Look for meetups..group counseling. Something

I can't do this for you

I'm also mentally ill

My mother is mentally ill

My mom went through abuse and is also manipulative and doesn't always see what she does wrong

HER-Today at 5:41 AM

calls 999

Zeoia-Today at 5:41 AM

But she still has her shit together to the point where she can try to get some fucking help

What city do you live in

I'll Google shit for you but don't depend on me to do everything for you

HER-Today at 5:42 AM

Crawley west sussex

Zeoia-Today at 5:42 AM

Because if I end up having to babysit you, you will in fact end up pushing me away

HER-Today at 5:43 AM

I'm getting a bloody ambulance

Zeoia-Today at 5:45 AM

What is your disorder

I'm going to make our conversation publicly available and ask around for help because I really don't want you suffering like this

HER-Today at 5:46 AM

Boarderline

Zeoia-Today at 5:46 AM

Okay

Borderline personality disorder?

HER-Today at 5:47 AM

Yes

Zeoia-Today at 6:00 AM

I will try to find someone who is also living with borderline personality disorder

But is taking steps to get better

Because it's clear to me that you are not

And I don't know how to handle someone who has the disorder

I made a post but I will try again later. We aren't going to see instant results

This shit takes time

But you yourself need to try to get hel

Help

You have to want to get better

Again, I don't know how to deal with the disorder so I'm probably not the best person to be telling you what to do

But there are plenty of other people out there with the disorder you can talk to and get help from

But I'm not one of those people

I must sleep. I have been getting headaches due to lack of sleep. Good night.

HER-Today at 6:10 AM

I'm in an ambulance being taken to see an emergency psych

It was the only way I could think to get help now

The thing is they take so long to see you I'll be slightly calmer when they talk to me. Then decide I'm ok..

I'm scared of things being public.. they'll think I'm stupid

HER-Today at 9:25 AM

Been given the mental health line number (again) and a thing to calm me down and sent home. No follow up.. but they think my GP should review my medication.(edited)

https://sussexrecoverycollege.org.uk/ Also this..

Zeoia-Today at 12:02 PM

I can't today. Please don't keep messaging me about your problems today. I need help. I'm suffering and hurting and I won't be able to see an affordable doctor for three fucking months. I'm sorry but I just don't have the mental stability to deal with both of our problems. Not right now.

Zeoia-Today at 2:03 PM

I’m not going to be responsible for anyone else’s emotions, actions and behaviors. It’s impossible. I have pointed out the problem previously to her. I will not keep myself in a situation that constantly hurts both of us. I can’t change her but I can change the situation.

I don’t like the statement about being her favorite person. It’s a type of manipulative wording used in the guilt game. I don’t play that game. HER is the only one who can fix this and it is her choice to make and act on. I suggest you don’t try to talk me into ‘fixing things’ because if it’s worded like the above statement I am going to get annoyed.

[blank] told me this. And I told you the same thing. You need to help you.

Anyway do not respond to this. I really don't want to talk about your problems right now because I'm in a super shitty health situation and the last thing I need is something stressing me out to the point of hospitalization.

https://www.westsussexconnecttosupport.org/s4s/WhereILive/Council?pageId=988 Hi - this is a link to information re Mental Health Services in West Sussex, hope it helps. Your friend can call the Samaritans on 116 123. Hope it all works out.

Zeoia-Today at 6:27 PM

"One of doggos turned out to be a professionally trained service dog. Eddie wasn’t a perfect match but he helped me so much. I had to put him down on the 31st of May. I’m trying to train my other doggo (a pittie) to do some of the similar tasks. I mentioned bringing Bella with me when I go to the UK (pitties are banned there). She freaked out and tried to manipulate me into not keeping my doggo with me. I had put down my service doggo the other day and I was hurting so badly. I told her to drop it, that’s my problem. She complained to others who called her out for being selfish. I do my DnD with friends on Friday nights. She tried to call me and tried to get me to drop DnD to calm her down from a meltdown about being called out for being selfish. After that she still didn’t drop it and called Bella an illegal dog. I was so hurt and disappointed. I got livid. I avoided her for over a week because I knew I would lash out and be mean to hurt her. She kept trying to contact me with increasingly manipulative statements until I finally blocked her before I hurt someone. I had talked to her before about my issues with manipulation. I tried to wait and calm down. I am done with that kinda treatment. Now you know what made me so mad."

From [blank] herself.

She tried to explain. And I tried to tell you. But it's like it goes through one ear and out the other. You need serious help from mental health specialists. You can't keep on attaching to people the way you do because it hurts them.

HER-Today at 6:28 PM

I had paranoia about the dog.

Zeoia-Today at 6:29 PM

Drop the thing about the dog.

Stop focusing on the dog.

HER-Today at 6:29 PM

I was struggling myself

Zeoia-Today at 6:29 PM

That is not the only issue.

[blank] has been through too much shit to be able to handle someone with borderline personality disorder.

She literally just got out of a manipulative and abusive relationship and you are here, saying manipulative things. She tried to be patient with you. But she didn't have to. She tried to because she cared. And she still cares.

But your dependence on her was not healthy for either of you. And if you try to depend on me, I guarantee you I will drop you like a hot pan.

I am not here to be manipulated. I am not here to be used. I am not here to be a counselor. I'm trying to offer advice, but I can't help you seek assistance. Especially when I'm trying to figure out how to deal with becoming physically disabled. So stop it. Just. Stop complaining. Stop trying manipulate other people to deal with your problems. Stop depending on others to do shit for you. Keep going to therapy. Going to groups. Looking up resources. It's your life. You have control over what you do. not me.

HER-Today at 6:33 PM

I WASN'T TRYING TO MANIPULATE TTHINGS(edited)

I was nervous about having a dog!

Zeoia-Today at 6:33 PM

Lisa.

It's not about the dog.

HER-Today at 6:33 PM

It clearly fuckiing started it

Zeoia-Today at 6:33 PM

Let me tell you something.

You say sad and upsetting things a lot.

It is very very tiring.

HER-Today at 6:35 PM

I AM NOT MANIPULATING HER

I AM NI

Zeoia-Today at 6:35 PM

no you aren't.

because you aren't in touch with her anymore.

HER-Today at 6:35 PM

She is making shit up!!

Zeoia-Today at 6:35 PM

nor are you in touch with me. get some help.

HER-Today at 6:35 PM

I DID TODAY

Zeoia-Today at 6:35 PM

NOT JUST TODAY. ALL THE TIME. GET. SOME. HELP.

Goodbye.

#shadowlady speaks #long post #like honestly if i fucked up go ahead and call me out on my shit #because i dont know how to deal with borderline #i can barely deal with my own depression #i really wanted to help her i truly did #but for my own sanity i cant get too involved

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alex-guerin · 6 years

Text

Okay, so...back on New Years Eve, I hung out with a friend most of the night, we went to Lincolnshire to see the final performance of “NEWSIES” and then I dropped her back off at her car and went over to Jason’s with ten minutes to spare before midnight. It was the first time in a long time he’d been able to stay up until midnight on NYE. His mom was there, I got to meet her, all great, cool, terrific. Next weekend I ended up at his house again, she was still there, got to hang with his entire family, including his kids, and the next morning before I left I asked his mom if I could add her to my Facebook friends. Y’know, in case I needed someone to talk to about him and everything and didn’t know where else to turn.

Long story short, she and I are FB friends and chat occasionally. Yes, our favorite subject to talk about happens to be her son lol!

Thursday afternoon Jason sent me a text that pretty much deserved an explanation and I never got one out of him. I went to bed upset, didn’t hardly sleep, woke up frustrated and exhausted and made a post on FB about how sending me a text 20 minutes before I’m supposed to fall asleep and not giving any explanation when asked about it is a shit move, now I felt like crap, thanks for that, and then went to work. His mom saw it and commented on it, told me to just keep holding on, take things one day at a time, things would be okay. Well, after work I posted again, saying how I really wanted to just say “fuck it” and try to get him to have the Conversation I’d been wanting to have with him in person, via text after all (he had to call off work yesterday because 1: his stomach was upset; and 2: Uber double charged him the day before so now his card was all fucked up and he wasn’t able to get a ride into work. ...I told him next time that happens, call work and tell them you’re gonna be late, but you’ll be there and I will go pick his ass up. 4:30 am traffic, it’d take me 10 minutes to get to his house! I know it would, cuz it takes just about 15 minutes to get there from work during mid-morning traffic. I’ve done it. I’ve timed it). I debated for a while about whether I should leave the post open for his mom to see or not, and finally decided I would. I hadn’t listed any names, but I knew she’d know I was talking about him just the same.

At 2:35 my phone buzzed at me. It wasn’t my usual text message, prolonged buzz, it was the quick, double buzz it does when my FB messenger gets a message. I was trying to figure out how to answer a text to Jason, looked down and saw his mom’s picture in the corner of my phone and panicked all the more. She’d seen my post, I already knew that’s why she was texting me. I cautiously opened her message and saw this: “Alyssa, please do not get hurt. I just read your post. Just be yourself and put it in God’s hands. He is a complicated man, extremely difficult to figure out. In the past he has had his heart broken so many times so he has literally put up a shield and hardened his heart. Just wanted you to know some things about his past. And as you can tell his relationship with [The Ex] is difficult on everyone.” I admitted to her that I hadn’t been sure whether I should make that post visible to her or not, but that I was glad I had decided to and that she messaged me. I told her how I’d been thinking of messaging her to ask about him, but I wasn’t even sure what I’d say or anything (I didn’t tell her that I’d had more than a few people tell me, “WHAT!? Don’t message his MOM! Dude! That’s just weird! Creeper! Seriously! Don’t message her!”). She told me I could call or text her anytime. She may not have all the answers, but she does know her son.

She and I texted back and forth for HOURS! Literally! HOURS! I don’t think you understand...HOOOOOOOOOOURS! From 2:35pm until 9pm! All about him, and me, and me and him. She confirmed soooooo many things that I had only assumed or suspected, and said so many things that explained why he is the way he is right now. I told her that Jason had told me that The Ex had left and taken the kids, but he didn’t say anything more than that, and I didn’t want to cause him any pain by asking why she’d left...so I asked if she’d be willing to tell me. And Oh. My. God. If I ever meet his ex, I swear to God, I will make her regret EVERYTHING! EVERYTHING!!! His mom explained to me how their marriage went down the hole because of this habitually lying bitch! All the things this woman did to him! I was SOBBING as I read her message! She also said how anytime Jason brings up divorce (because he wants one), this bitch changes the subject! This bitch HAS A BOYFRIEND! But she still keeps sending Jason mixed messages and stringing him along, and using their kids as pawns. She calls demanding something and Jason has to jump through hoops in order to see his kids. She wants something, she’ll tell Jason the kids “need” something, and he’ll just hand the cash over. I just...I cannot believe this bitch.

Because of this bitch (I refuse to call her “this woman” because no. She’s a bitch and that’s what I’m calling her), Jason’s confidence is shot. He doesn’t like himself anymore (so his mom says, and I can see that at times). She literally drove him to drinking and drugs. He never use to do either until their problems started and he felt his marriage falling apart around him. I told his mom that I do my very best, and I try very hard, to remind him that he’s a great a guy, that he’s my hero and My Superman, and that he’s the hardest working guy back in our department -- that so many people are lost when he’s not there. I’ve unwittingly been trying to build his confidence back up. She told me that his life is literally a wreck right now. That he’s an emotional rollercoaster because of his day-to-day life at the moment; he’ll be at the top of the world one minute, being the boy she remembers, and then in the blink of an eye it’s all gone again.

I’m not giving up on him. I told his mom this. I REFUSE to be another person who abandons him. His dad walked out when he was a kid -- leaving his mom to raise him and his brother alone -- I don’t know what happened in Jason’s past relationships, if he ended them or the girls did, but he’s been hurt before because of them, and then the woman he married -- who supposedly loved him enough to marry him -- up and leaves and takes his children with her. No. He’s had too many people abandon him in his life. I’m not going to do it. He stole my heart back in August when I got him to laugh and smile at me. And he’s stolen it over and over again every day since then. I dunno if I woke up remembering the end of a dream, or if this vivid thought was seriously the first thing that popped into my head this morning, but it was me and him sitting in my car in his driveway, talking about things. I took his hand and put it over my heart and told him, “This is yours. It’s been yours for a while now. It’s gonna stay yours, whenever you’re ready to trust yourself again, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” I was laying in bed and I could literally feel the pressure and warmth of a hand over my heart, even though there wasn’t one.

I’ve had so many people tell me the last couple of days that I need to just give up and move on. That he’s not worth the tears and upsets he keeps causing me. Well, now that I know why he does the things he does a bit better, hopefully I can remind myself of those things anytime my insecurities and anxieties start flaring up. His mom told me if I thought he was worth it, then to be patient with him and to get him to talk. Well, I generally do a fairly good job at getting him to talk to me. Not verbally cuz me and him both have trouble being verbal, but text wise, yeah. I can get him to open up through written words more times than not. His mom said right now what he needs (and all that he can truly offer) is a good friend who makes him laugh, flirt, and is there acting crazy and fun. Well, she already told me I’m such a good friend to him, I swore months ago -- before me and him even started texting -- that it was my goal to make him laugh every day, we definitely have the flirting thing down (somedays to an extreme......O.O oh yeah, forgot to mention, Wednesday I stayed after to help him with shipment day, me and him were alone in the freezer together, I told him to meet me down in the ice cream room cuz, well, i was gonna be inappropriate and let him cop a feel. He met me down there, hopped off his forklift, pulled his skimask down to uncover his mouth, took half a step towards me with his hands outstretched to take hold of my hips and pull me in...and yeah, I blew it! My brain was screaming for me to shut up, he was gonna pull me in for a kiss, but my mouth was already going, “Close your eyes...” I texted him once I got out to my car, asking if I seriously just missed my chance to make out with him in the ice cream room. He answered back “Yup”. The only times he’s ever kissed me have been while he’s drunk or high or both. He wasn’t either on Wednesday. I was gonna get to make out with a sober Jason, during work, and I blew it!!! ...yes yes, it’s for the best, but DAMN!!! I am STILL kicking myself for that!!!!! *HEAD DESK!*), and I’m definitely crazy and fun! I challenge him to video game battles! I recently challenged him to a snowball fight once we get snowball fight grade snowfall, and he agreed to the snowball fight! So, I mean, I’ve been doing all the things his mom says he needs and I’ve been doing them since before she said anything!

I’m not a religious person by any means, but I have been praying, every day. Praying that Jason finds the courage to overcome his fears and take a chance with me; that his heart heals so that he’s willing to open it up to me more than he has already; praying that I’m able to have this and him; that I want to be there for him and his kids. This morning I woke up calm and sure and with a very strong sense of “No.” coursing through me. I’m not giving up on him. I’m not abandoning him. He’s my boy, he’s my guy, he’s my hero and I’m gonna fight for him. I’m gonna be the friend he needs, and I’m gonna continue to try and build his confidence back up. And maybe, hopefully, when he’s ready to try again...he’ll realize that I stuck with him through all the ups, downs, twists, turns, and loops of his emotional rollercoaster ride. I asked him once before, back in October, if he was ready for another shot at a relationship, would I even stand a chance with him? His answer was “Of course”. He’s remembered other things I told him back in October that I had forgotten I told him, so here’s hoping when the time comes, he remembers that too.

#Personal log #he's doomed now #I've latched on and become determined #I'm not letting go #I'm gonna fight for him #Jason Stobaugh you stole my heart

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notesfromaprovince · 4 years

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My Afternoon With Beezer

In 1971 I am a recent college graduate with an impractical BA in anthropology. Reluctantly I realize it is time for me to stride out into the real world and seize the day, to be of use, fulfill my destiny and all the other clichés commencement speakers past and present roll out for the inattentive. I say reluctantly because I had just gotten the hang of surviving at the place and now I had to leave. After nearly starving to death as an undergraduate the thought of grad school was less than a distant option. I’d worked on the student newspaper, so newspaper work might hold some promise. One of my reporters, who amusingly referred to me as chief, though I’m not sure if he meant it in a Perry White/Jimmy Olsen jest or real affection, had family ties to the NY Daily News. I was sure I could tag along with him for a job. But I had gotten very tired of New York City where I had attended college. I had gone there mostly to escape my small hometown. Now I was thinking it might be better to return there, enjoy a Lake George summer, then seize the day and fulfill my destiny etc. In uncertain times my post-collegiate self stuck to the collegiate self’s belief that frolicking first always served to clear the mind prior to more important endeavors.

When I returned home, my old friend Jeff Van Wert, approached me with a marvelous proposition; would I join him tending bar at Charlie Burgie’s Cave in Hague? This was too good to be true. While every resort town in the northeast was fertile ground for the recently graduated and directionless, I was going to spend my summer at, to my knowledge, one of the best summer long parties in the Northeast. Not only that, but I would be officiating the festivities from behind the bar of party central. The Cave. There were other institutions like the Dock n’ Dine, the Indian Kettles, Spearman’s and the Burleigh House in Ticonderoga, but the party always started and began to wind down at the Cave. There was a status to this job. I would follow in the footsteps of some of the local greats like Butch Gunning. You couldn’t make up a name like that for a champion high school football quarterback cum bartender, and his side kick Jimmy Frazier. These were legendary, rough and ready purveyors of the great Northern Lake George Party and I was asked and honored to be one of them. So this is where my post-graduate work would be done. I couldn’t start too soon. A true frolic first.

For the most part, it was as wonderful as I had imagined, from behind that bar old friendships where rekindled and new friendships were cultivated. Business was so good that after 9PM we were instructed to leave the till open so our sale of alcohol wouldn’t be slowed down by the actual ringing up of each sale. Charlie Burgie had a figure in mind on what constituted a good night and we never disappointed him. We were Charlie’s Boys and he trusted us. We ran a great party. For the most part we could spot fights well before they happened and move them out before they erupted. Each evening’s till was evidence of our proficiency. No fights meant more business and more money. While Butch and Jimmy had enjoyed the occasional scuffle, diving into the fray fists flying, most of our crew realized it was dangerous and costly. Charlie noticed and there wasn’t much we could do wrong.

We boys worked the evenings and some afternoons. Topsy, was the dayside bartender. How did she get her name? Well, she was tops. She was an older woman who had some mileage on her and there seemed to be little that surprised her about events in the bar. She ran a tight ship on the dayside and didn’t put up with much from her patrons. They knew if they got on her wrong side she could shut them off or worse, tell Charlie. Charlie was a big man with a reputation to match his size. By the time I worked for him he was an older man yet still feared. At the shift change Charlie would join her for a scotch and soda. It was all part of the shift change ritual for the early evening crew. Topsy would remind us of what needed restocking and what we had missed the evening before. Charlie would listen quietly yet keeping an eye on us. We always apologized and vowed it wouldn’t happen again and Charlie would be pleased that his boys were attentive and polite. She took one day and an afternoon off each week. The afternoon off was to get her hair done. We all took turns covering for her and we met and learned about a completely different clientele on those days that she was absent.

Many of the names of those I served in the early afternoons and mornings when I opened up for Topsy I’ve forgotten. Most of them were hard workingmen with a taste for alcohol and companionship. Others were vacationers looking for a respite from bickering and bored families on rainy days or urban dwellers hiding from the endless onslaught of rural scenery. You might say they suffered from bucolic colic. Hard to imagine but true. Having a smart-assed college kid behind the bar was a test of what those people could tolerate, but for both of us it was just for a day or an afternoon a week and we learned not to get in each other’s way, most of the time.

There were some who were pleasant and friendly like Billy May who had a slight speech impediment that became worse as he drank. I realized I had worked at the Cave too long when I was able to interpret to others Billy’s utterances when he was completely intoxicated. “What did he say?” He said if you couldn’t walk; drive and God help us all.

Then there where those who were interesting and witty like Petey Waters, the poet laureate of Hague. One evening he stayed past the afternoon/evening changeover of grizzled old timers to the young crowd. He was holding the pool table and though well past any point of sobriety, he continued to hold the table well into the evening. A young man challenged him; Peter retired to the bathroom and upon his return, picked up his pool queue and surveyed the table. His challenger’s girlfriend shouted to him, “Petey, your fly is down.” Peter slowly and carefully looked down at himself, looked up at the young lady with kindly eyes and said, “Don’t worry dear, what can’t get up, can’t get out.”

Finally there was Beezer Hall, a born half-wit schemer. What made Beezer tolerable was that he was witless. If he had any brains at all, he would have been almost dangerous and extremely unlikable. But being who he was, he could be just irritating at his worst. And if you didn’t have to do business with him, he could be down right amusing. Take for example his selling of raffle tickets in the bar for a pony. None of the people he approached with the ticket offer had any means to care for a pony, but if they won he would gladly keep it for them for a price. He didn’t have any takers and anyway it really wasn’t his pony. He had been caring for the animal for someone else and if it had worked out right, no one would have been the wiser.

Beezer had an old dump truck and picked up garbage mostly for the summer residents who had the means to pay him and didn’t particularly enjoy the weekly trip to the dump. While they missed the social and hunting opportunities that could arise from a weekly visit like that, they were able to avoid rubbing shoulders with whoever or whatever. He made enough to get by and went on unemployment over the winter months because most year round residents’ their only contact with their neighbors and friends was at the dump. Who needed Beezer? One rainy afternoon Beezer complained to any one in the bar who would listen, that he might lose his sole source of income. Because of the nonexistence of any tread on his truck tires, legally he would not be able to operate it on public roads and therefore not be able to pick-up any one’s garbage. Beezer made his presentation with all the tragedy and foreboding he could muster. If you didn’t know Beezer for the schemer that he was, and you where facing the imminent conclusion of your trash removal service, you might be concerned. Especially if going to the dump was not a highlight of your vacation experience. One concerned summer resident, partially in the spirit of noblesse oblige but mostly out of self-interest, gave Beezer the money for a new set of tires. It was given on the condition that the donor receive free garbage pick-up for the rest of the year. Beezer gladly took the money with much gratitude. He left and went up to the dump and surprisingly found a passable free set of tires that afternoon. He had them mounted on his truck, passed inspection and to his credit had enough time to come back to the bar and buy a round of drinks before dinnertime. Unfortunately, Beezer didn’t notice that his benefactor was still in the bar. The man rolled his eyes, looked down the bar at Beezer and said, “That’s free pick up for life, right Beezer?”

The instance of Beezer picking up the tab for a round of drinks was notable because Beezer was a man who longed for and diligently sought out the free drink. For me he was at his most irritating when trying to get a free drink out of me. In most cases I would have bought back by the third or fourth drink anyway, but he needed to cheat me out of it. He needed to get the best of me. So he would put his money on the bar and order a small draft, then a shot of Imperial whiskey, then a bottle of Genesee beer, then maybe a draft mug, then a shot of Wilson’s whiskey a shelf down from the Imperial. Then I would watch him start counting his change. He’d look up and accuse me of short changing him. At first, assuming I had miscounted; I would buy back whatever he had last ordered. And at first he accepted that. But then he got bolder and would be looking for something better than just a draft or a well whisky on the premise that had I knowingly tried to cheat him. That’s when I started to pay attention because he never left a tip anyway. And when he’d challenge me, I’d go through all the transactions, one by one counting out all his change and he would nod his head, purse his witless lips and say, “guess you’re right. You gonna buy me back a drink anyway?”

“No!”

All this time Beezer sat at the bar with his hands spread out revealing letters crudely tattooed on his fingers. On a slow rainy afternoon with nothing better to do than to keep track of Beezer’s random and convoluted drink transactions, a young college educated bartender might become curious about what those letters signified. But if he was as tired as I was about Beezer’s shenanigans he might be too proud to ask and think he was smart enough to figure it out for himself. And so I spent most of a summer doing just that. At first I thought it must be RIGHT and LEFT because the man could be so witless. Or may be LOVE and HATE like the tattoos on Robert Mitchum’s fingers in The Night of the Hunter. But on close examination neither was the case. For the life of me, I could not figure out what those letters meant and the other bartenders either didn’t care or were like me and wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking.

Finally one cool afternoon in September when I realized that Beezer’s and my time together was growing shorter, I broke down and asked him. It was painful. Beezer looked up at me with what could almost be called a beatific smile as if to say, “What took you so long?” Thinking back I began to believe that he had been taunting me all along with those indecipherable digits. Sitting at the bar with both of his hands, heel down, the fingers slightly curled and placed on either side of his drink like pieces on a chess table. I took a deep breath and realized that this was not going to be pleasant and he began.

“Well, you know I was in WW two?”

“Yes, many times you’ve regaled me with your exploits as the great liberator of France.”

“Yup, and them Frenchys loved us. We where the great Lib-er-a-tors. Those Frenchy girls could not get enough of us.” I looked at the old fool and tried to imagine how desperate or joyful a young French woman would have been to find him desirable. He continued, “You would go to them little cafes and sit real close at the little tables on the sidewalk playing kneesy kneesy under the table. You’d look into her eyes and then you join your hands together like this.”

I looked down at his hands, with his fingers intertwined, the letters spelled out LETSFUCK. It took a moment to digest the solution of this summer long mystery, I looked up at him and said, “But Beezer, it’s in English.”

“Goddamned college kid, think your so fuckin’ smart.” And he left the bar.

My summer was over and it was time to find something useful to do. I found a job as an apprentice proofreader in Worchester Massachusetts. I was a college graduate and I could read. I was qualified and at first I didn’t think it involved alcohol. See any typos?

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