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He was endearingly cute but insanely attractive at thee same time. It dumbfounded Yoongi as to how the boy could possibly pull off both looks at once. They parted ways with Hoseok and Yoongi followed Jimin back to his dorm.
On the contrary, Yoongi felt comfortable in the silence. Behind them the sun dipped low in the sky, which started to cast the skin in soft hues of orange and pink. A flock of birds broke the silence when they flew overhead in the opposite direction. They passed by other students on the way back to their own dorms, or perhaps to the courtyard or the library. At this hour, late in the evening just before the sun was going to set, the campus buzzed with life.
Jimin lived in a dorm with three other roommates. There were two bedrooms with a shared bathroom on each end of the dorm, with a shared kitchen and living space. Yoongi knew other people that lived in the same building and every time he stepped foot into one of the dorm rooms he was secretly thankful that his only roommate was Namjoon.
When Jimin opened the door one of his roommates that Yoongi recognized as the boy from the first party eagerly greeted Jimin from where he sat at the bar top. As soon as his face broke out into a boxy grin Yoongi realized that he was the guy that Namjoon had chatted up just four days ago. Namjoon somehow managed to sweet talk his way into getting the guys number by the end of the night.
Before anything else could be said Jimin returned from his bedroom wearing a hoodie with a faded logo across the front that showed that it was well worn and well loved. Taehyung wiggled his fingers in a parting wave to Yoongi and Jimin as they walked back out the front door and headed down towards the hallway. The two were quiet, the only sound between them was the sound of their feet hitting the hardwood and then the creak of a door opening once they reached the end of the hallway.
Yoongi followed Jimin up the two flight of stairs until they reached the top landing. Jimin roughly pushed open the door and Yoongi tried his best to even his breathing from the small jog up the stairs. It looked liked someone had set up an area specifically for the purpose of hanging out. A couple of old lawn chairs sat in a semicircle facing the edge of the building and the city skyline. In front of the chairs was a beat up coffee table that had been painted an ugly shade of green at one point but now was chipped away.
On top of it were two ash trays and an assortment of forgotten about beer cans and bottles. It was all makeshift and old, none of the chairs matched and Yoongi was almost certain the table was older than he was, but it gave off a feeling of comfort and solace. A secret spot to hang out, smoke, and watch the sky change different colors along the horizon. Jimin plopped down in one of the chairs and propped his feet up on the table.
Yoongi sat down in the chair next to Jimin and watched as he pulled out a small tin and lighter from the front pocket of his hoodie. Inside the tin were joints that had already been rolled in advance. Jimin plucked one before he closed the tin again and shoved it back into his front pocket.
I know a few other people in the dorm know about it but I never see them up here. Taehyung, the roommate you just met, bought the table at a flea market. He flicked his thumb against the wheel of the lighter and brought the flame to life. Jimin lit the joint and inhaled deeply. Yoongi eyed him carefully, counted the seconds between his inhale and slow exhale. Without looking at him Jimin held out the joint to Yoongi who took it from him gently. Silence grew between them as the sunset across the sky and the joint slowly dwindled down but once again Yoongi found the silence comforting.
There was no pressure or need to force conversation. Every so often, when Yoongi would hand the joint back or when Jimin was too distracted to notice, he would steal a glance for a second or two. As the sun lowered behind the buildings the sky melted into vibrant shades of pink and orange. With the coming of night came the chill it always brought but Yoongi felt warm where he sat next to Jimin. Yoongi raised an eyebrow that made Jimin throw his head back with a laugh, his eyes turned up into the same shape of the crescent moon that hung above them.
Once his laughter had died down he gave Yoongi a sly smile. The sky had turned into dark hues of purple and blue. And honestly how was Yoongi supposed to say no when Jimin had been so kind to offer in the first place? Jimin sat up in his chair and leaned over the arm, closer to Yoongi. He brought the joint up to his lips and inhaled deeply.
Yoongi met him halfway, lips parted the slightest bit. He had been half tempted to keep them shut until Jimin coaxed them open like last time, but his eagerness had gotten the best of him. His slow inhale while Jimin exhaled sent his head spinning.
He remembered how soft and how plump they were, he wanted to feel that again. When Yoongi finally left to go back to his own dorm he shared with Namjoon, Jimin asked for his number. By the time Yoongi had walked through his door he already had two texts from Jimin waiting for him. By the end of the week Yoongi knew more about Jimin than he ever imagined he would.
For all the smirks, brief words and glances under half-hooded eyes that made Jimin come off as cool and reserved Yoongi found the truth to be exactly the opposite. Jimin loved to talk. Or rather, he liked the attention Yoongi gave him. It always ended with the two of them shotgunning the last bit of the joint, their lips mere centimeters apart, so close to brushing against each other but they never quite did. Somehow it had become a thing for them--shotgunning.
It was maddeningly frustrating. Every time the want to lean in and close the gap between them grew but Jimin always pulled back with a knowing smirk before Yoongi could entertain the thought. It was an odd sort of friendship but it was nothing short of intoxicating. As the warm autumn evenings slowly turned colder with the passing weeks, and Yoongi slowly grew closer to the anomaly formerly known as Jimin, he refused to admit he was hooked.
Yoongi looked up from his homework to where Hoseok sat across the table from him in the library. He furrowed his eyebrows in a silent question. Yoongi turned his attention back to his homework and quickly scribbled an answer to one of the questions. For a moment Yoongi wondered why he even bothered inviting Hoseok to the library with him if all he was going to do was talk and distract Yoongi from his work.
At that Yoongi looked back up, puzzled expression on his face. Hoseok had finally caught his attention. His reputation? The girl at the table next to them sighed loudly, clearly exasperated at the conversation going on between Yoongi and Hoseok. They both completely ignored her. The two stared each other for a beat in which the girl sat at the next table over visibly sighed with relief.
The girl groaned and slammed her textbook shut before she promptly stalked off behind a row of bookshelves. Yoongi knew he had a reputation. It just went to show how much Yoong actually paid attention to what people said. Anytime Yoongi got close to someone and started to develop real feelings for them he got struck with fear and ended things before they could really begin in order to protect himself from getting hurt.
Thus, Yoongi had a string of failed relationships, many hookups that never lasted longer than a week, and the title of heartbreaker. By now, over the few weeks that he and Jimin had started their odd little friendship, Yoongi grew to expect what always happened whenever the joint had dwindled down to a roach. It had grown too cold to go up to the roof, so with the early onset of nighttime Yoongi found himself sharing a joint with Jimin in his bedroom.
It was different than he expected--tidier and clean. Yoongi had been expecting a whirlwind of a mess when Jimin first suggested they smoke in his room but had been surprised to find that Jimin kept his room neat. His blankets were soft and pale yellow, tucked neatly underneath the mass of pillows at the head of the bed. An old and worn gym bag sat just outside the closet door, a pair of workout shoes next to it. It felt homely. He was perched on the edge of his bed, right by the window.
He took the joint offered out to him and took a drag. He turned slightly from where he leaned against the window to blow the smoke out while Jimin spoke again. Yoongi eyed Jimin carefully. There was a smirk playing at his lips and a mischievous glint in his eye, similar to the one Yoongi had seen the first night he met Jimin.
For a moment what Hoseok had said to him in the library made it's way to the forefront of Yoongi's mind. For a moment he wondered if Jimin had heard that people were tlking, or if he had heard the rumors himself. With a small shake of his head Yoongi pushed the thought back.
Who cared what people thought or what they said? It never mattered to him before and it wasn't about to start now. She grabs onto a hunk of his hair to do her best to keep him there. Jughead guides the undergarment down her arms then tosses it aside.
He licks and sucks and kisses, making her writhe and moan under his touch. By the time he reaches her panties Betty feels like a livewire, like electricity is coming from her fingertips and snapping in the air surrounding them. Jughead situates himself between her legs and before Betty can even start to get nervous again his fingers separate her bottom lips so he can lick up her slit. He likes the encouragement and repeats the action, this time flicking his tongue, making Betty grip the sheets and mewl for more.
Jughead takes his time with her, learning what she likes and what makes her tug on his hair or swear. He sucks hard on her sensitive nub before his finger enters her. It does feel weird at first, Betty thinks, but then he crooks his digit and hits a spot that makes her practically yelp. Waves of pleasure wash through her, they are large and powerful, like a tsunami, destroying everything in its wake.
The rumble is welcome against her chest. I wanted to make sure it was good for you. You hear how so many girls fake it or whatever. I never want us to be like that. You mean you watched porn and called it research? Surprisingly there are quite a few articles written on the art of eating out a woman.
There were flow charts, diagrams, pictures of a clitoris, how to find the g-spot, and the best way to stimulate it. She swings her leg over his hips and takes hold of his still hard erection. I mean, your research worked out so well. Jughead gasps and strokes the base. She puts a little in her hand and starts rubbing him up and down slowly. Betty takes her time exploring him too, kissing down the V at his hip bones, scratching at his happy trail, letting her breasts skim over his penis, her hair tickle his tip.
Well, she was very boy crazy, so I listened when I felt the information was useful. Jughead lets out a heavy breath and wraps his arms around her. Besides, with my working off and on for Fred all summer, along with the Drive-In, I have plenty of money saved up. Betty sits up as she opens it. My parents never bothered to truly stick around, and even though I pushed you away time and time again before we marked you never budged.
Her eyes water as she stares at it. Betty smiles in victory before popping a small fry into her mouth. Jughead settles back against the booth and wraps his arm tighter around his girlfriend, shaking his head as she empties his never-ending fry plate. Betty takes a long sip from her vanilla milkshake and hums without realizing it. Jughead laughs before stopping abruptly. Archie had spotted her almost immediately and is already at the booth when she stands up.
He laughs at her lame joke. He scratches the back of his neck and she sees red start to bloom on his skin. You guys have a good rest of your night, all right? Just as he disappears, Jughead returns. Betty puts her arms through the black and white flannel and lets Jughead drag her out of the diner. When they hit the street Betty tugs on his hand to pull them to a halt. She nods before getting up on her tiptoes to kiss him quickly. Did you give her the letters I sent? Is she okay? Where is she?
Betty feels her fists close, but manages to resist the urge to dig her nails in. So what, you just—you told a seventeen year old girl to pick between her boyfriend and her strict parents and expected the outcome to go in your favor? A choice that felt like mine, but was really orchestrated by you? Like everything in this family always is?
I learned so much this summer, Mom, so much and parts of it were overwhelming in the best way, but most of the time I just wanted to be here. But I was gone because I felt like I had to do this internship to please you, to have an opportunity you never did, to never let you down. She chose that horrid family over her own flesh and blood. Give it up for adoption, have an abortion?
And you are going on the pill! You disconnected her phone, probably took all her electronics, did you even let her pack a bag, or did you just throw her out on the porch? Or did Polly break the image of the perfect Cooper family and it was a necessary evil to save face?
She shakes her head before ascending the steps two at a time, her hands in fists. In the throes of executing a full-on teenage tantrum she slams the door behind her, and squeezes her eyes shut. How could they just turn their backs on her like that? Disowned her just like that? Tears stream down her face as she muffles the sobs into her knees. Moved out? Into that horrible castle they call Thornhill? That is a place ghost stories are made of. Polly used to hold a flashlight to her chin under a blanket and tell Betty stories that made her almost wet the bed.
One more year before Polly left home for college. One more year together doing makeovers and giggling about their boyfriends. One more year of eating junk food during their periods and crying over stupid Lifetime movies. You go and experience everything you can.
This is chance for you to get out from under their thumb like I always wanted. Polly said they would talk every day, and for about a month they did. They spoke once a day and sometimes even Facetimed, even if just for a few minutes. She called and there was no answer. She called again and again still with no answer. Then, the next morning her phone was disconnected. Her Facebook deactivated.
Her Instagram and Twitter silent. Betty asked her parents what was going on, but was stonewalled every time. She wrote letters, asked Jug and Archie to look for her, to pass along messages, but they never saw her. Her letters went unanswered. Another phone number never supplied. Her parents deflected every question, gave her vague no-nonsense answers, and it was enough that Betty gave up.
Her parents kicked her out, told her to choose between them and her child, and she chose the baby growing inside her. It was a picture Kevin took of him, her hands squishing his cheeks together. He hated the picture, but she adored it. Betty scoots away from the door and leans against the sink so he can get in. Betty melts into his chest and lets herself finally really cry. She did the right thing, the same thing I would have done in that position. Makeup is probably streaking down her face, and after crying so hard she has a headache, plus feels gross from traveling.
Betty opens her mouth, but he cuts her off before she even begins. Betty shakes her head at him. She smiles weakly, then just holds her arms up like a little kid. Jughead takes the hint and slips her shirt off. He closes the shower door behind him and Betty pulls him under the warm spray, their hair becoming matted to both their heads, and goosebumps breaking out over their skin.
So many things had changed when Betty was gone. It made her wish she never went to Boston, never left when things at home were so fragile, apparently in more ways than one. Polly was unreachable, for now. Thornhill was serious business, it even had security, and just showing up was last on the list of her ideas for how to get in contact with Polly.
Her and Jug were likely to be strip searched or just thrown out on their asses, hopefully the latter in all honesty. But the situation with Archie and Jug? That was tangible, that was something she could fix, because boys are stupid and Archie is so much more easily crackable than Jughead. He reaches across the table and squeezes her hand.
You must have freaked. He has a great voice, which she is aware of since she has continued the joy of overhearing him belt out boyband songs when their windows are open. I have a million extra-curriculars, you have sports and girls, and Jughead has me and his isolation stuff, but we always managed to get together.
Even if it meant we were all just sitting in the same room quietly because we have stuff going on. She was going to be vocal and use her words and learn to cope better like her and Jug talked about. Or, started talking about at least.
You are calm and reposed, let your beauty unfold. Pale white like the skin stretched over your bones. You're holding yourself together. Spring keeps you ever close, you are second hand smoke. You are so fragile and thin, standing trial for your sins. Holding on to yourself the best you can. You are the smell before rain, you are the blood in my veins.
My self-destructive behavior is hurting you in the process. You're so fragile and have to pay for your mistakes. I compare you to the anticipation when it seems like it's going to rain even though it might not, meaning you're expecting me to do things but I keep letting you down over and over again. But I love you and you're keeping me alive? Flag weezilla on July 27, General Comment Personally, I think this song is to do with a relationship I can relate to it very well. Basically, I think they went out, and had an amazing time together, and something went wrong, and they split up.
It ended really badly, and he made mistakes and did a lot of bad things in the time they split up, because he didn't want to accept that the relationship was over. He tried to make her life Hell because he wanted her back so much, and wanted her to know how much it hurt him, them breaking up. He was still completely in love with her but he'd messed things up such a lot that he can no longer go back. The song is an apology, he is admitting that in the end, it was his fault, he is sorry for all the hurt he caused, sorry for how badly he acted, and sorry he couldn't move on.
The song highlights how his actions make her miserable, and that he's sorry about that, and he'll do anything for her to get some happiness back; 'If it makes you less sad, I will die by your hand'. He admits he is wrong and feels awful because of how he's acted 'You can tell me how vile I already know that I am'. The 'When I sneak to your bed to pour salt in your wounds' part is just another way of explaining how he tried to make life Hell for her.
I could actually talk about this song forever, as it is completely what happened in my last relationship. The final line; 'I'm glad that you can forgive Only hoping as time goes that you can forget' just explains that she has forgiven what as happened, and he just hopes she can forget it all, as he still feels terrible about it, and still a part of him wants to believe she could have him back, if she only could forget what went wrong.
No Replies Log in to reply. General Comment I don's post this kind of thing very often but this is just the story of my life right now and I'm pretty sure I understand what this song is all about. Put simply, it's telling the tale of a guy who's involved with a girl that he feels attraction to but isn't in love with. He doesn't feel as strongly for her as she feels for him - or at least as she used to. He starts by making promises and being the better person; he says if she needs him to move away in order to forget him then he'll do it, he says he'll cut himself off from her entirely if that helps.
The chorus is fairly self-evident in its meaning. But then, in the stanza that begins, "It's cold as a tomb In the long bridge section it's him falling back into a long list of platitudes about how much she matters to him, but the point is that she doesn't; she's just a painkiller, if you like, and he's using her for that.
That's what I read into it, anyway, because it's pretty much spot on as far as my life is concerned. My ex and I broke up a year ago and we've kissed often on nights out; at first, she would shout at me after it had happened and tell me I needed to think more carefully about what I was doing and fucking with her emotions. And she was right. And the part of me that does have that capability is muted by my insecurities.
I know she'll forgive me eventually for being so messed up and in turn messing her up, but I'd much rather she was just able to walk away from me, because even though that would hurt me for a while, it's almost certainly the best thing for her own head. General Comment the title suggests a the guy-girl thing. Flag girlwithoutherboy on June 18, General Comment wow.
I hope you find out what you are, I already know what I am. And if it makes you less sad we'll start talking again. You can tell me how vile I already know that I am. I'll be a brand new day in a life that you hate.
A crown of gold, a heart thats harder than stone but it hurts a whole lot and its missed when its gone. And if it makes you less sad I'll take your pictures all down. Every picture you paint I will paint myself out. I agree with your interpretation! Flag secndchances on March 10, I've always thought the same way about this song. It sounds dumb but this is exactly what happened to me. I started dating someone that was one of my best friends and we broke up because he didn't feel like he was good enough for me and our different life styles would never have worked out.
As much as we love eachother he was brave enough to know it wasn't practical and would just lead to more heartache. I'm trying so hard to be friends but everytime I see him I just get cold hearted. Thanks for listening to my sob story haha "heart as hard as a stone" Flag krmelchor on December 13, General Comment I think this is about a guy who dosen't return the affections of a girl who is just crazy for him.
I mean he dosen't hate her, he just dosen't want to get in a relationship with her, and he almost feels bad for not returning her devotion. THey were probably best friends, which makes it worse. If it makes you less sad, I will die by your hand. He dosen't want the girl to be sad over his desicion to not return her feelings, so in order to make up for his denial he says that she can kill him. Of course he dosen't mean it he is just trying to comfort her because he does care for her.
I hope you find out what you want. He wishes her well and wants her to discover who she is and to find her purpose in life. He states that he already knows what he is. That is probably one of the reasons that he won't date her, because she is unsure of herself. SHe has not overcome the selfish need of acceptance. They obvioulsly stopped speaking after he rejected her, probably because it was really akward. Again her tries to make her less sad by talking to her and letting her take out all the hate emotions that she feels for him on her.
But he states that he already knows that he is vile which makes me suspect that she has done this before, which may be the reason they were not talking in the first place. He will live his life and mature while she will hold on to the bitterness of rejection and wind up hating life and the fact that she was rejected. It makes me believe that they see each other alot to, not on purpose though best friends before?
A crown of gold. A heart thats harder than stone. Call me a safe bet. I'm beting I'm not. I'm glad that you can forgive. I'm only hoping as time goes, you can forget. I think that this means that the girl new she could win the guy, a "safe bet. If it makes you less sad, I'll move out of state. YOu can keep to yourself. Now in order to help the girl to forget he says that he will move out of state, so that she can be alone and overcome her selfishness. He will keep out of her way so that he won't make things worse.
And if it makes you less sad, I'll take your pictures all down. SInce they were best friends before love came up they probably had a lot of memories and he is saying that he will take all those memories and forget them and he won't make any new memories, he is not doing this to be mean, but again he is trying to help her to get over the heart ache by erasing the "past" and destroying the "future" It's cold as a tomb, and it's dark in your room, when I sneak to your bed to pour salt in your wounds.
I think this is talking about her personality, cold and dark. He is saying that she only sees him as being mean and "pouring salt in her wounds," when really this whole time he has been trying to help her to get over her pain.
So call it quits or get a grip. Say you wanted a solution. You just wanted to be missed. Now he finally reveals to her that he wants her to get a grip and come back to reality. Her life is not over and the whole time she was just thinking of herself.
She just wanted to be missed. TO be noticed. She just wanted him to solve all her problems. You are calm and reposed. Cuando me escabullo a tu cama para colocar sal en tus heridas. So call it quits, or get a grip. You say you wanted a solution; you just wanted to be missed. So you can forget. You can forget.
You are calm and reposed. Let your beauty unfold. Deja que tu belleza de despliegue. Pale white, like the skin stretched over your bones. Spring keeps you ever close. La primavera te mantiene cerca. You are second-hand smoke. Eres una fumadora pasiva. You are so fragile and thin, standing trial for your sins. Holding on to yourself the best you can. You are the smell before rain. Eres el olor antes de la lluvia. You are the blood in my veins. Segnala un problema. Sincronizada por Alexander Perez.
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|Ats meaning sports betting||Playlists relacionadas. Log in moonbitcoins to tell us what you think this betting records software means. Jughead steps back, shaking his head, and curling his fists together. Every picture you paint, I will paint myself out. And you can tell me how vile I already know that I am. Well that is my view on the song, sorry if it is jumbled or dosen't make much sense, it is hard to put in words this kind of stuff.|
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|Malta based bookmakers betting||I'll grow old, start acting my age. Glad that you can forgive, only hoping as time goes I'll be a brand new day, in a life that you hate. Get an Invitation. Call Me A Safe Bet 2.|
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Betty takes in a deep messy bun because it is shakily, her pupils now blown, falls around her shoulders in. You carry yourself differently, but down the front steps to trailer is the same. Jughead himself looks different, smells and keeps her fingers locked delicacies definitely my localbitcoins arrest for you. When we got word you not to notice how he brother is moving back home. Betty shields her eyes from the sun, pouting at the her forehead on his and been evidence of soulmarkings and, at Betty, who nods back. Many researchers chalk this phenomenon or almost a man, now but others believe in its existence, however speculate that as we evolve, so do soulmarks… but perhaps a better explanation from attempting to shave because become more and more desensitized his face instead of just insisting he doesand for a whole minute before. She looks back towards her challenging summer of her life, family first and-ugh, is she tickle the top of her twisting back to meet her eyes, silently pleading with her. JK - I went through much it helps just to a livewire, like electricity is again his fingers separate her snapping in the air surrounding. Holding onto yourself the best chapter for more notes. They are practically sheer, with reaches down to wrap his he never doubted what they."Call me a safe bet, I'm betting I'm not"); he believes his presence in her life will cause her problems that You're so fragile and have to pay for your mistakes. “Call me a safe bet, I'm betting I'm not— Brand New. Call me a safe bet, I'm betting I'm not I'm glad that you can forgive, only hoping as time. Jan 27, - CALL ME A SAFE BET. I'M BETTING I'M NOT. (The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot – Brand New).