#and apparently one of the dudes took my friend aside and when he kept denying that he was interested in me said

[solace-seekers]

yes Will has slammed his car door into his face while opening it multiple times. don’t ask questions, listen it happens

#did i do this two days ago? no comment #but also my head is in a lot of pain and to be fair i was asleep like two minutes before it happened #i need to stop giving myself head injuries. haven’t had a concussion yet but. with my record it’s gonna happen soon #hoo #pjo #pjo/hoo #will solace #also sorry i’ve been non existent #being sick sucks and it should go away #also i was volenteering for old ppl and getting treated like an incompetent two year old by the person running it #and also got passive aggressively talked to when stopping for two minutes to eat at 4 when only like 5 guests were there #and i had only eaten like a sandwich for the entire day so it as starving and the smell of all the food cooking was making my naseuous #also kept having to deal w uncomfortable shoulder touches and because a guy friend had invited me to volenteer w him ppl #kept trying to set us up or like insist that we were dating #and apparently one of the dudes took my friend aside and when he kept denying that he was interested in me said #‘well if she was naked what would you do?’ which. i cannot even express how disgusting that is. yea #and i would literally be in the middle of doing a task w one of my friends also volenteering not doing anything because he wasn’t given a jo #and stupid man would come up and pat me on the back and tell me to do something instead of my friend 😐 like what? #but in the end we got to split an order of ribs between the three of us cause someone ordered extra and we got free pie and cookies soooo #great times. tbf the ribs were like. very very good #anyway. that’s enough ranting on a pjo post

[stevenbasic]

By Tuesday afternoon, I was beside myself. Seeing patients again, but distraught. The office was a hot mess - so many new girls, crowding the hallways and desks, mostly being trained by people who also didn’t know what they were doing. My schedule was a hot mess - they’d overbooked me, with all the patients I was supposed to see the day before but had been rescheduled. And my mind was a hot mess - surrounded by not only all these new women (I’d kept my head down, sneaking into my office between patients when I could, and hadn’t really introduced myself to anyone yet) but also by the din of construction and random dudes walking down the hallways from time to time...

For some reason the presence of guys - mostly strapping young men in hard hats and t-shirts - upset me more than the bustle of bimbos giggling and pointing at me as I snuck from patient to patient. Maybe I was imagining it, but they seemed to look at me funny, askance, with a condemnatory eye. In particular I’d seen that one with the shaved head and tattoos, the tall one who’d disappeared with Melissa from the parking lot this morning. He was the one hanging around the most, glaring at me snidely. It was jealousy, I knew, that was tightening my chest whenever I saw him - an unreasonable reaction, not an emotion I should be feeling; Melissa was not mine to covet. But when, right around lunchtime, I saw the door to Melissa’s office open and him get pulled inside? Well, my blood began to roil. She’d made no effort to see me all day, and now this??

What were they doing in there?? Would she be having him take more pictures of her for Instagram? Would she be changing into new outfits for her followers, bikinis and lingerie? Would he be bending her over her desk and-

I knew I was being crazy, jealous, stupid. I had no reason to suspect any of this. But still I couldn’t stand it. So, finally, I broke. Right around 3pm.

“Can you tell Melissa I need to see her in my office?” I told Aubrey. She was standing behind the front desk with Brittni and Bobbi and three new people, training. It was pretty crowded back there.

“Of course, Doctor,” said the slight, pretty girl with the dark, pixie haircut. Aubrey had always been one of my best, most loyal employees. Quiet, serious when she needed to be. Less flighty for sure than most of the women that worked for me now. Take, for example, Brittni and Bobbi and now I guess these three new ones that I recognized from their jiggly applications; they were all looking at me and quietly giggling. Aubrey - since our front desk manager had left - was trying to get everyone trained. Piles of paperwork were everywhere.

“Okay I’ll head there right away,” I said, turning on my heel and knocking over a mound of charts from the counter.

“Don’t worry Doctor I’ll get that…” Aubrey offered, as I quickly moved away. Snickers followed in my wake.

Finding the hallway that led to my office mostly quiet, I turned a corner and -

“Oh, therrrre you are!” Melissa beamed, stopping me in my tracks. I felt my eyes go wide and my heart leap into my throat. I hadn’t really seen her since Friday and I was struck again by just how tall she was. Heels, yes, but my head came just up to her upper chest, if that. She made me feel smaller, in spades, than even the biggest of the construction workers.

She took a step towards me.

“Hey, uh….m-m-my office?” I stammered, trying to direct her but unable to keep my eyes from a quick trip up and down her unbelievable figure. The red heels, the sleek, bell-cuffed black pants, the tight, high-necked top. The hair, the eyes, and those knockers.

“Why don’t we talk here?” she returned, stepping in again closer to me.

I took a backpedal in retreat, turned my back to the wall. My eyes went wide again as she planted her right hand on the wall behind me, just above my head, between me and where I’d been heading. The door to my office was just steps away to my left, but now it might have been a mile. “o-okay, sure…” I yielded.

“So happy you finally want to say hi,” she said, with her left hand now coming up at my other side, placing itself just aside my head on the right. Now I was trapped, penned in, faced with a wall of woman. “I’ve missed youuuu…”

I swallowed dryly, suddenly assaulted with a barrage of feelings and a heady cloud of her captivating perfume. “Oh? Uh, y-yeah, haha, sorry,” I started, beginning to explain my absence, “I’ve been out of it. It’s, uh...all the construction, the noise. Kept me up last night, I’m exhausted…”

“Oh you poor thing…” she cooed, her smile turning crooked, weight shifting on her feet. Her right leg had bent, knee pushing in aggressively towards my groin. “I’m sorrrry…”

I couldn’t help but feel like I’d been captured, and she was possesively trifling with me - here, out in the open, in the hallway where anyone could see. But, from my position, I also couldn’t help but notice how her bra was just visible through her too-tight top, and that her breasts looked enormous today.

“uhhhhh….” I tried, struggling to remember what I’d wanted to talk to her about in the first place. Oh yeah.  “...and now they’re all milling around here. I saw, uh...one guy go into your office, earlier?”

“AJ? Oh...yeah, Angie’s ex,” Melissa explained, eyes narrowing, “She’s one of the new girls, a friend of mine, just broke up with him. He’s pretty upset. I invited him in for lunch...”

“Oh, uh, lunch?”

“Yes,” Melissa answered, a funny tone in her voice, “He bought a salad for me.”

Of course she’d like someone like him. He’s tall, strong, pretty good looking. He’s closer to her age...

Melissa looked down at me, regarded me, watched me thinking. “What’s wrong?” she finally asked.

“I...I don’t like him,” I too quickly answered, glancing down at the safety of my feet, speaking before thinking, “He...he looks at me funny.”

“Ohhhhhh….is that it?” She sounded amused.

I couldn’t tell her that, no, that wasn’t it, really. The sideways glances from these dudes I could handle. What I was struggling with, what I couldn’t tell her, was that he made me so fucking jealous. No way I could admit that, not to her. It would be weak, sniveling, petty and unprofessional. Plus I was married, still, and needed to hide my feelings for my new Office Manager deep deep deep. I could not let Melissa know how jealous I was.

But, when I looked up into her face, and she leaned down in to bring her face closer to mine, I could tell she saw right through me...

“Do they scare you? The big scary construction workers?” she giggled, teasing me, “Do they make you feel...unsafe? They are all so much bigger than you...” Overhead, one of the fluorescent lights flickered.

“Melissa, c’mon,” I pleaded, sounding much more pathetic than I wanted. I could tell she knew how I really felt, that it was my unreasonable jealousy that was making me upset. That fact? She loved it. But that I was denying it? For that, she wanted to torture me a bit.

“Awww did you hear that ladies?” Melissa called out, to the tall forms that had just started to appear in the hallway behind her, the voices I had begun to hear, “Dr. J here doesn’t like having all the big, noisy men in the building…”

Suddenly, two other girls appeared aside Melissa, one on each side. My eyes shot from one, redhead and statuesque in a blue top, to the other, chocolate-skinned and bosomy, dressed in green. Both were tall, taller than me, I couldn’t help but realize.

“I agree, I don’t like it either,” said the girl to Melissa’s left.

“Me neither,” said the other, “We should get rid of them…”

“Then it’d be just us…” the dark skinned girl replied.

“Dr. J,” Melissa said, in introduction, “this is Bianca…”

“Hi,” said the girl in blue, inching closer.

“...and this is Shanette.”

“Hi,” said the one in green, stepping in as well.

If I had been faced by a wall of woman before, it had now been fortified. Everywhere I looked, it was boob.

One of the overhead lights flickered again.

“We don’t like tall men, do we girls?” Melissa asked.

“Big guys? Yuckie,” followed Shanette.

“Yeah, gross,” said Bianca, her voice a natural purr, “We like our men short…”

“Helpless…”  cued Shanette, biting her plump lower lip as she looked down at me.

“...weak…” smiled Bianca.

“...needy,” Shanette finished.

By now, the three girls had me all but plastered to the wall. Melissa did nothing but smile down at me, apparently enjoying every moment of my well-deserved distress as these new girls soaked me in. Finally, though, she spoke. “See? No reason to be jealous, Doctor J-“

“I wasn’t jeal-“

“...it’s like I’ve been telling you,” she continued, speaking right over me, “It’s the thing. Girls want their men vulni these days, and you…”

“You are- rrrrrrrrrrr….” Bianca...growled?

“...you’re perfect,” Shanette giggled.

“And, no reason to be scared, sweetie,” Melissa assured me, though the current situation - I felt like I was about to be squashed into a girl sandwich - gave me more than enough to be frightened about, “You don’t have to worry about the big, mean men.”

“We’ll keep you safe,” Bianca promised, her eyes gleaming with portent, “don’t you give it another thought.”

“We’re all here to take care of you,” Shanette cooed, her expression growing softer by the moment, “it’s all we want…”

Unsure of what to say, I looked from one girl, to the other, and then back to Melissa. She merely smiled, closed her eyes to take a deep breath, and then opened them again as she spoke. “You see, sweetie? You see what kind of girls I hired for you?” she said, and leaned in to whisper down into my ear, “I did such a good job…”

Her melony breasts squashed into my neck, her voice in my ear.

“...won’t you just accept that?”

===========================

Thank you to good friend and master-of-the-craft AlexGTSArtist for his newest donations to our little story.;  these renders are fantastic. Please support him where you can.

More stuff at my Patreon

#growing into the job

[blazinbeautywrites]

Varsity Blues

Note: Due to the rampant uprising of plagiarism on this site  and others I am stating once and once only that this is my ORIGINAL  work. If I find out that you have stolen/taken any part of my work I  will handle you and the situation the way I see fit.

None of the pics of gifs I use belong to me so full credit goes to the originators of said gifs and pics.

Summary: Zoie gets dragged to frat party by her best friends Maddie and Rae where she meets Zabdiel and they hit it off, in more ways than one.

A/N: This waaayy longer than I wanted it to be and I’m not even sure I even like it but imma post it anyways cuz I’ve had it for almost 2 weeks lol.

Length: 2,169 words

Genre: Smut

Zoie hated football, especially college football. Yet here she was in the stands as her two best friends Maddie and Rae cheered on their school’s team. Apparently they just scored a touchdown but Zoie didn’t care at all. She noticed the guys behind them were exceptionally loud too, specifically whenever they spotted the quarterback on the field. She recognized one of the guys, Erick. He was a freshman but he took her Psychology class. Zoie was relieved when she saw they were in the last quarter of the game. All she wanted to do was go back to her apartment and finish her research paper and sleep.

“Ya know you can at least pretend you’re interested in the game.” Maddie said as she and Rae finally sat down.

“Yall know damn well I don’t like football but yall dragged me to this game anyways.” Zoie said. 

“Girl whatever. Oh wait I see somebody I know at the concession stand. Yall want anything?” Maddie asked.

“Yeah I’ll take a hotdog and bring miss grumpy here a coffee.” Rae said. Maddie leaves and returns no more than 5 minutes later with a handsome guy along with Rae’s food and Zoie’s coffee.

“Guys this is Joel. He’s one of the sophomores I’m tutoring. He’s also in a frat and he invited us to their party after the game.” Maddie said.

“Ummm I’ll pass. I have a paper due Monday so that’s what I’m spending my weekend doing.” Zoie said.

“So you rather stay at home and do homework than take a night off and enjoy yourself? You sound like my boy Erick here.” Joel said as he nodded towards Erick. Zoie turned around and looked at Erick, along with a guy with red hair, and another with shaggy hair. 

“Anyways let’s just watch the game.” Zoie said as everyone settled back in their seats, Joel taking a seat right between her and Maddie. The game went on and on and when it was finally over, their school’s team had won the game.

“YES! What an amazing game! Zabdiel was so fucking good tonight.” Rae said.

“Yeah woohoo, can we go now?” Zoie asks in the most unenthusiastic way.

“Wait, aren’t you coming to the party?” Erick asked.

“Nope. I have a paper due, ya know the same exact paper you have due.” Zoie said.

“We have ppl for that. And I’m not taking no for an answer. Joel said.

“Plus you look way too good to go straight home.” The redhead said as he checked her out. She was wearing a form fitting yellow plaid skirt with a white halter with a butterfly on it, a pair of black platform boots and she topped off her look with a black leather jacket.

“I’m sorry and you are….?” Rae asked.

“Richard. And this is Christopher. We’re the ones who plan all our frat’s events, including tonight’s festivities.” He said.

“Okay fine if I say yes will you shut up and stop eye fucking me?” Zoie asked.

“I make no promises but yes I’ll stop so can we please go? I had one of the pledges order me a special pizza and I’m starving.” Richard said. Everyone made their way out of the stadium and towards the parking lot. The girls made their way to Zoie’s car and once they were inside, Joel texted Maddie their address and they were on their way.

                                             ________________

The party was in full swing when the girls pulled up. Joel, Erick, Chris, and Richard were just walking into the house when Zoie parked. She sighed then got out of the car. As they walked up the path to the front door Zoie noticed a guy passed out on the lawn and shook her head.

“The party literally just started.” Zoie mumbled. Once they made it to the front door a burly guy in the most obnoxious, stereotypical frat attire stopped them at the door.

“Password?” He said, as he let out a long, loud burp.

“Oh my fucking god he’s a caveman. I’m going home.” Zoie said as she turned to leave, but Rae and Maddie grabbed her.

“Password? Hmm let’s see. How about move or I’ll rip your fucking dick off!” Rae yelled, catching the attention of many bystanders.

“Rory, dude they’re with me and the boys. I told you, you don’t have to guard the door all night.” Joel said as he came to the rescue. He ushered the girls inside and they’re immediately hit with the smell of barbeque and alcohol.

“How are there so many people already? This shit JUST started.” Maddie asked.

“Oh we’ve been spreading the word since Monday so everyone knew where to be after the game. Can I get you all something to drink?” Joel asked.

“I’ll take some Hennesy, straight and Rae likes Patron. And…..Zo?” Maddie asked, looking at Zoie.

“Well I’m driving so I’ll take a coke.” Zoie said. Joel led them to the drinks table where they saw all the guys mixing their own drinks. However a new person joined. The school’s quarterback Zabdiel de Jesus.

“Ladies this Zabdiel, our star quarterback but yall already knew that. Zab this is Rae, Maddie, and Zoie.” Joel spoke as he introduced the girls.

“Zoie? Wait, you’re in Erick’s class right? He talks about you alot.” Zabdiel said.

“Bro what the fuck?” Erick said as he looked wide eyed at Zoie?.

“What? I mean you definitely didn’t lie, she’s absolutely gorgeous.” Zabdiel said. He and Zoie made eye contact and Zoie felt a little tingle and quickly averted her eyes. Fuck, she thought to herself.

                                             ________________

It was well into the night and everyone was TRASHED. Zoie, on her 3rd coke of the night, was posted up on a nearby wall watching her friends with the guys.  Maddie was dancing and making out with Joel while Rae was sandwiched between Richard and Chris. Erick was off in the corner with a petite blonde in his lap. Lost in her own little world of people watching, Zoie didn’t notice Zabdiel sidle up to her and when she finally did she nearly bumped into him.

“FUUUCK ME! Bruh what the hell?!” She yelled, shocked.

“I mean I usually don’t fuck when I first meet a girl but for you, I’ll make an exception for you.” Zabdiel said. He gave her a little smirk, almost making her fall to her knees but she kept it together. She looked at him and laughed.

“Does this whole sensible giant thing you got going on ever work for you?” Zoie asked as she chugged the rest of her drink.

“You tell me. Is it working on you?” He asked. He took a sip of his drink and eyed her intensely.

“N-No. Ummmm where’s the bathroom?” She asked.

“Through the kitchen to the left.” He replied as he chuckled at her nervousness. Once Zabdiel told her where to go she hauled ass but when she arrived the door was locked and she heard moans coming from the other side.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She said to herself. She searched around and still couldn’t find a bathroom. She decided to check upstairs and was delighted when she finally found a bathroom. It was communal and she was slightly disgusted but she put that aside as she looked at herself in the mirror. She took off her jacket and examined herself in the mirror. She looked tired so she splashed some water on her face to refresh herself. As she’s drying her face she hears the door open. She looks up and sees Zabdiel and smiles.

“Erick said he saw you run up here. You good?” Zabdiel asked as he leaned against the sink.

“Yeah just needed some fresh air. We should get back to the party though.” Zoie moved to leave but he gently grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him. He backed her into the sink and got as close to her face as he could without touching her.

“What if I said I wanted you? You think I didn’t notice the effect I have on you.” Zabdiel ran a finger along the side of her neck. Zoie tried to fight it but couldn’t deny the way she was feeling or the puddle slowly forming in her underwear. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back. Zabdiel kissed the exposed part of her neck, causing her to let out a soft moan. She pulled his head back and kissed him. The kiss became intense and Zabdiel let out a low grunt as Zoie pulled on his hair. He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her onto the sink. Zoie opened her legs and pulled him closer to her. She deepened the kiss as she slipped her tongue in his mouth and grinded against him. He gifted her skirt so it bunched around her hips. He used his index finger to trace along her clothed slit. He felt the wetness through her underwear and laughed. “God your so fucking wet.” He said as he moved her underwear to the side. He used his finger to spread her wetness over her clit. He heard her moan and moved his finger in short circles over her. “Tell me what you want.” He said as he continued his assault on her sensitive bud.

“I w-want your fingers inside of me.” Zoie sighed. Zabdiel was more than happy to oblige and slid his index finger inside of her. Zoie was taken aback as his long finger massaged her walls.

“You feel so fucking good. Think you can take another one?” Zabdiel asked. Zoie nodded and moaned as he slid another finger inside of her. He was moving at a slow pace and it drove her crazy.

“Can you move faster? You’re killing me.” She managed to say. Without a word he moved his finger faster and Zoie matched his pace as she grinded on his fingers. Zabdiel used his thumb to rub her clit and Zoie all but lost it. She was a whimpering mess as he pleasured her. He kissed her again and they made out as his fingers moved at an incredible pace inside of her. Zoie felt some of her juices drip onto the sink.

“You’re making a mess. Now let’s see if I can make that pretty little pussy squirt.” Zabdiel whispered against her lips. He continued to finger fuck her as Zoie struggled to stay on the sink. She gripped his arm to steady herself as she saw stars. The feeling was overwhelming and he felt like she was about to pass out.

“Shit! I’mcomingI’mcomingI’mcoming…..SHIIIIIIIIITTTTTT.” Zoie screamed. She felt like the life was sucked out of her as she arched into Zabdiel. He felt her wetness gushing out of her and smirked as her wetness soaked the sink, floor, and the bottom of his shirt.

“Hmmm. You look so fucking hot right now.” He said as he planted another deep kiss on her lips. He could still feel her body shaking when he withdrew his fingers from her.

“That was…..fuck that was amazing.” Zoie slumped against the mirror and eyed Zabdiel. He motioned for her to come to him and then tapped his cum soaked fingers against her lips. She immediately obeyed and took his fingers into her mouth and sucked them clean. Tasting herself somehow aroused her even more and she removed his fingers with a loud, wet pop. She looked him dead in the eyes the entire time, making him hard.

“You are incredible, you know that? Now let’s go before our friends wonder where we are.” He said. He helped her clean up then they headed back downstairs where the party was still raging. Zoie saw Rae and Maddie outside stuffing their faces with burgers. She and Zabdiel made their way outside and saw the rest of the boys also scarfing down various foods.

“Where the hell did you two disappear to? We’ve been looking everywhere for yall.” Rae said as she finished off a beer.

“We….ummmm-”

“I was fingering her upstairs in the bathroom. She made a mess so we had to clean up.” Zabdiel said in a nonchalant manner as he took a seat neck to Richard.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD.” Zoie squealed. She was so embarrassed and sat down next to Maddie who was laughing her ass off.

“Awww babe don’t be embarrassed. Joel only lasted 5 minutes and I didn’t even cum so...” Maddie said.

“Hold the fuck up, not my fault. It’s the alcohol.” Joel pleaded.

“Yeah okay, blame the liquor.” Richard laughed. The rest of the night was a hot ass mess but they all had fun and enjoyed themselves until most of them passed out. Zoie was still wide awake and as she got up to leave she felt that same gentle tug on her hand.

“Can you stay a bit longer?” Zabdiel asked. She smiled at him then took a seat next to him. She snuggled up against him then felt herself drift off to sleep.

#cnco #zabdiel de jesus #cnco scenarios #zabdiel de jesus scenarios #cnco imagines #zabdiel de jesus imagines

[prorevenge]

Loud, messy, and generally annoying roommate learns his lesson

So I had a roommate over this last summer, as we subleased an apartment in my hometown from a friend of my roommate's who was traveling for the summer. It worked out perfectly, because he was able to give us a cheap enough rent that I could work a factory job in town and still save enough money to put towards tuition for the next year of college.

Now for a little backstory. This friend of mine, we'll call him "Alex", for privacy. I don't like the guy, but I'll still respect his privacy. I use the term "friend" fairly loosely, as we come from a small town (about 5,000 people), so everyone knew everyone, and Alex and I graduated together. We never hung out together outside of the classes and extracurriculars we had together, but I had never had any issues with the guy before this.

So, fast forward to the first week of living together. All was ok at first, some minor annoyances, but nothing major. However as time went on, things started to pile up. Literally, and figuratively. It started with some minor annoyances. We're both guitarists, and would occasionally play together. I'd been playing consistently for about a decade at this point, he'd been playing on and off for a few years. However, when we started living together, he started playing more, probably motivated by seeing how much I played. Nice, right?

Well the biggest problem with this was that he worked the 3rd shift at the same factory (midnight-7am) and I worked the first shift (7am-3:30). So he would play his guitar in his room (right next to mine) at all hours of the night while I was trying to sleep. His typical routine was to crash as soon as he got home, sleep until 3 or 4, (usually he was awake by the time I got home, but not always) make himself food, and then divide the time between then to either play video games with his friends online, or play guitar. Loudly. I typically tried to be in bed by 9, but was almost always woken up either by his guitar, him screaming loudly during a League match, or him clambering loudly around the apartment to get ready for work. I swear it sounded like he was wrestling Macho Man Randy Savage himself in the living room and kitchen at 11:30 at night every night. On top of all of this, he would have his girlfriend over occasionally, as well as other girls I'm assuming he had met on Tinder (as I saw him swiping through occasionally). And the walls between our rooms were very, very thin. I had many conversations with him to try and explain that the noise was bothering me, but he responded with "Sorry dude, just get carried away sometimes. Have you tried headphones?" (yes, that's an exact quote, and yes I had tried headphones, but to no avail. They were too uncomfortable to sleep in). I was exhausted at work every day, relying on the Monster they sold in the break room every day to get me through (so yes, I do blame him for my current addiction to monster). So like I said, things started to pile up, figuratively in that regard, and it was getting old.

On the literal side of things, Alex was a slob, and his things would LITERALLY start to pile up. He'd leave his change of clothes in the living room when he'd change before work and wouldn't pick them up for a week at a time. His room started to smell, and soon, so did he. I don't think I saw him take out the trash in his room once, and I would constantly have to enter his den of despair to retrieve dirty dishes, as he liked to eat in his room while watching anime or playing League, and just leave the dishes on his nightstand. I also started noticing food items going missing from the fridge. Again, I approached him about it, and again, was given an apology and a promise to clean up. But that promise remained unfulfilled. The last straw finally came around mid June.

At work, there are small lockers that employee's can use to store their things. They aren't assigned, so it's a first come first serve basis. You write your name on a sticker and put it on an empty locker, and you are responsible for getting a lock for the locker. I got a simple padlock with a combination, and took the last available locker, recently vacated as one of the employee's got moved to a different assembly department within the factory. I gave Alex the combination and told him he could share it with me so long as he didn't mess with my stuff. Things in there started to pile up as well. Mainly work gloves and safety glasses, as he would put them in there at the end of his shift, and then forget and just get new ones. Our factory handed out gloves and safety glasses for free, so I'm sure he never thought anything of it.

This was just another minor annoyance until one day I left my wallet in my storage locker, and didn't realize until the next day, as I was on my way to work and stopped for gas, and didn't have my card to pay for it. No biggie, this has happened before. I get to work, and as I'm walking in, Alex is walking out. After my shift, I grab my wallet and go to get gas when I notice there's $60 in cash missing from my wallet. I know this because it was money I had set aside to go to a concert later that summer (the last Warped Tour, bittersweet, I know). I went home and confronted him about this when he woke me up clambering around in the kitchen again, and he denied it (of course), even though he's the only one with the combination to my lock. So I decided I was done. Over the next week, I tried to think of a plan, and had a eureka moment when my boss asked me to switch to second shift for a few weeks while another coworker from that shift was taking advantage her years of accumulated vacation days. Perfect.

Finally, ON TO THE REVENGE.

I started with small, reasonable things, like not washing the dishes, hiding the few that were mine in my room, and washing them and putting them away as I used them. The apartment had its own washer and dryer, but the guy we were renting from took his laundry supplies with him, asking him to use our own. Fine by me, I had bought the detergent and dryer sheets anyways. I promptly moved those back into my room as well, and started only doing my own laundry. At work, I had made a new friend who agreed to let me stow my wallet, keys, and phone in his locker during the work day, as I was now temporarily on second shift and my things were usually gone by the time he came in for his shift. Alex's laundry started to pile up. By the look (and smell) of it, he was rewearing clothes several times without washing them. I have no idea what he started using for dishes, I can only hope he wasn't eating off of the gross used ones. He never came and talked to me, and I'm not sure if it was out of laziness or if it was because he knew he didn't have a leg to stand on. But sadly, the smell just kept getting worse, and my efforts seemed to just accelerate his degradation into grossness. But I still had one more card to play.

See, the best thing for me about moving to second shift was that I would now come home at midnight and be able to sleep peacefully while he was gone. When he came home at 7, I would be waking up to start my day. And start my day, I did. First thing I did was make myself some breakfast. Usually a nice fruit smoothie in the blender, the loudest appliance in the kitchen. I would then go into my room, crank up the volume on my amp and jam out to some music, singing along to Mayday Parade, All Time Low, Sum 41, and a myriad of other bands I was listening to at the time in preparation for Warped Tour. I'm not a bad singer by any means, but I'm no Jason Lancaster. I would also occasionally invite my then-girlfriend over during that time, and we were, by no means, quiet. This seemed to be the last straw for Alex now. He stopped me one afternoon before I left for work, and asked me to keep it down while he slept, as it made it hard for him to focus and stay awake at work.

I responded in my most fake-sincere voice, "Sorry dude, I guess I just get carried away. Wanna borrow my headphones?" After a few more days of noise, I think he got the memo. He bought his own laundry detergent and dish soap, and slowly worked his way through the massive pile of shit in his cesspool of a room. By the time I switched back to first shift, he was the quietest, and most considerate roommate ever. However, the smell didn't leave the room, and I was concerned, so I called the friend we were renting from to ask if he had a carpet shampooer I could use to get the smell out. It was at this point the friend told me that this wasn't the first time this had happened, and apparently Alex had rented the apartment the previous summer as well, and the friend came home to find it filthy. Lucky for Alex, the person he was sharing the apartment with left to go back to school early for a university job orientation, and the friend came home to find Alex trying to clean the last of the apartment, blaming the smell and the messiness on the roommate who had left. The friend started to put it together and thanked me for letting him know, and that he would take care of the smell when he got back, but I insisted.

The Pièce De Résistance came when I sacrificed a couple hours of sleep to go into work while he was on the assembly line, grab his phone (which he kept unlocked) from the locker that still had my padlock on it, and found very incriminating text messages from the various other girls he had probably brought back to the apartment. I screenshotted them, send them to myself, and then deleted the evidence that could trace back to me. When I got home, I sent them all to his girlfriend, another girl I had graduated high school with, and that I was ACTUALLY friends with. I also sent screenshots to his "Tinderella's", who's numbers were in the screenshots of the texts under the contact names. And that was the end of that.

Alex was no longer allowed to stay at that friends apartment, but hopefully I taught him to respect his roommates. Because after sharing an apartment with him, with my own separate bedroom, I can't imagine having to share a dorm with him. As for his girlfriend, she dumped him immediately, and Alex spent less and less time at our apartment for that last month, probably going to his Tinder girls' places instead. In retrospect, I should have found a way to mess with his Tinder to stop him from getting matches, but I'm not sure what I could have done, and I think I made the poor guy suffer enough.

Anyways, sorry for the length, I'm not the best at condensing stories. I have a few other, more juicy revenge stories I'd be happy to post another day, I just had to deal with a roommate conflict earlier today (I'm an RA) and it reminded me of this situation. So I hope you enjoyed!

(source) story by (/u/LeoDGTV)

#prorevenge #by /u/LeoDGTV #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

[lubdubsworld]

A change of Heart.( Taehyungx OC)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Three days later, I was dragging myself back to my room , early in the morning. it had been a hectic few days but there had been a breakthrough the previous day and some of the doctors had managed to isolate the particular strain of virus that seemed resistant to attack the particular gene related to lycanthropy. A virus that spared humans and targeted werewolves was unheard of and almost all werewolf extremist groups were gearing up in protest, claiming that the government had engineered the virus as some sort of twisted biological warfare weapon. 

I didn’t want to think too much about the details of it. 

I was more worried about the three young pups, struggling to breath in the NICU. They’d caught the virus from their mothers who were also deathly ill.

My room was located off campus, down a narrow pathway and a few yard into the surrounding woods. it was a cabin of sorts, with a built in bath and kitchen and a spacious living/dining/bedroom space. it was still dark outside, as i trudged wearily across the damp foliage, my shoes squishing into the wet earth and leaving muddy streaks on the white surface. 

“What were doing out this late?” Taehyung’s voice caught me off guard and i felt my heart leap into my throat in surprise.

“Oh, Christ...” i whispered, clutching my bag tightly as i tried to push down on the panic. Taehyung looked unimpressed as he stared at me. 

“well?” He demanded, when i ignored him and moved to open the door to my cabin.

I sighed, exhausted. 

“Can i help you?” i said wearily.

He stared at me for a second.

“I have a proposition for you.” He said , voice a little stilted , teeth worrying his lips as he stared at his shoes. If I didn’t know for a fact that this man was richer than 90% of the people in my country and pretty much the definition of powerful, i would almost think he was nervous.

I didn’t respond, waiting for him to continue.

“My daughter....she...” He sighed.” She’s taken a real shine to you. She refuses to stay with any of her usual babysitters and insists that unless I invite you over for dinner, she will not in anyway listen to me.” 

He looked like the words tasted bitter on his tongue.

I stared at him.

“And?” i prompted.

He glanced at the cabin.

“I told you to quit your job. Why are you still here?” He asked, eyes narrowing.

“Oh wow. it’s almost as if you don’t have any say in what i do with my life, Mr. Kim...isn’t that shocking?” i smiled brightly, already turning around to open the door.

i yelped when his hand shot out, gripping my wrist hard. I whimpered and his hold loosened, but he didn’t let go .

“Nobody wants you here, Mirae ssi...” He gritted out. “ You and your kind are the reason we’ve been subjugated and oppressed for centuries, and I’ll be damned if I let you people infiltrate the once place that is supposed to be a safe haven for wolves everywhere....” 

His eyes flashed red, lips twisted with burning anger and I tried to pull my hand out of his grip. 

“And yet....you want me to have dinner with your baby daughter...” i snapped and his eyes narrowed.

“She’s a child. She doesn’t know any better. And i don’t want you to have dinner with her... i want you to come over and tell her that you’re never coming back here because you don’t fucking belong here in the first place....” He snarled.

i shook my head.

“i’ve done nothing to harm your species. I’m only trying to help...i know your anger is justified but you’re taking it out on the wrong person...”

I yelped when he let me go, but only to step  in closer, both hands closing around my arms and pushing me up against the side of the building. i flinched, when the old wood pressed against my skin, the harsh rub of splinters evident through my thin blouse. 

He was taller than me by almost a foot and I turned away, heart pounding as he ducked his head, nudging my cheeks a little.

“Am I? “ He whispered softly.” You’re not welcome here and yet, you can’t seem to want to leave. So what’s the catch? Did some rough old wolf catch your fancy....You wanna find out what its like to fuck an animal, sweetheart?” He huffed out a breath that was sickly sweet and warm against my neck.

 “What are you-?” I flinched when he growled and pressed in closer, this time his body pushing me into the wall. 

“I know that most of you women think that fucking a werewolf is the ultimate fantasy. A forbidden fruit. A sick little fetish. Isn’t that what we are to you?” He drawled and despite the almost seductive tenor of his tone i could hear the undercurrent of fury behind it.

“You’re being unfai-” I stopped breathing as he snarled , teeth closing over my throat , just shy of actually sinking in. i shut my eyes , my fingers clenching into fists as i willed myself not to burst into tears. I’d never been more terrified in my life.

“Am I? I’ve lived in this preserve all my life , Yoon Mi Rae ssi... Not one wolf has propositioned to me or behaved in an unseemly way  but every time i visit your mainland..” He made a noise of disgust.” Your women throw themselves at me like flies.” 

i’m not one of them!!, i thought miserably.

 “Let me go.” I shuddered out, voice barely a whisper and he chuckled, pulling away a bit. I stayed still as he stepped back fully, moving away and staring at me.

“Quit the job and get off the island. This isn’t the place for you. ” He said sharply. 

“Tell your daughter i said hi. And that I’m glad she’s nothing like her rude , obnoxious father!!! ” i snapped, because apparently, i was suicidal. 

Taehyung stopped to throw me a glare before turning on his heel and stalking away. i watched him disappear into the night before slowly sinking to the forest floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“.... do you think that humans in the preserve are in some way contributing to the deterioration of the community?” 

Taehyung took a deep breath.

“i think, every community needs to reach within itself and build and find its own stability. Wolves have been suppressed and denied opportunities for centuries. Most of the time, the excuse is that we aren’t meant to mingle with humans because of our dangerous attributes. By that logic, there’s really no reason why there should be humans employed at the preserve. But mostly, I think there are several qualified wolves who could take up the three posts currently held by himans at the research center alone. If you don’t want us in your space, you need to at least let us take control of our own....”

The interviewer nodded, making notes. “understandable. What about the current strain of influenza going around... It seems to be targeting lycanthropes in particular. “

Taehyung nodded.

“it’s quite unfortunate. Most of the affected cases are young pups. Humans themselves act as carriers without displaying any symptoms, so there’s another reason, humans ought to be kept away from the preserve. At least till this whole thing is resolved....”

“There’s talk about this strain of flu being man-made...” The interviewer said softly.

Taehyung shrugged.

“i don’t have any proof for such claims” He said quickly but next to him Seo Joon piped up. 

“ Well,  if certain factions of the human race did decide to develop some deadly viral strain as some kind of biological weapon against my people....well....it wouldn't be the first time would it?”

  The crowd went into a frenzy, muttering excitedly and Tahyung flinched. He didn’t want people to start attacking each other. Seo Joon wasn’t a pacifist like him. The dude wanted a full fledged war. Taehyung wanted no part of his aggressive attack. 

He stayed quiet for the rest of the interview while Seo joon rallied about how humans were responsible for the deterioration of the preserve. 

When the program ended and he began to leave the studio, he found Jimin waiting for him near the door.

“That was a bad idea.” His friend said quietly. 

Taehyung sighed. 

“Seo Joon is one the most respected men out there. i can’t antagonize him. At least till i win....”

“There are violent factions everywhere Tae... do you really want to fuel a full out war between us and the humans?”  

Taehyung brushed aside his concerns.

“i just want them out of the preserve. And most of them have left. There’s still just a few foolish stragglers. In a way i hope this motivates them to leave. ” 

His mind flashed back to her..

To those, wild brown eyes, whiskey deep and scared, her fear so tangible and real that it had appealed to ever base instinct in him. the wolf in him had preened at the idea of being feared....

And the way  her silky smooth hair looked as it flowed over shoulders, the pale, fragile perfection of her body, the smooth unblemished skin that had felt like silk under his lips. How tempting it had been, pressing her up against that wall, that insatiable urge to just sink his teeth in and bite and turn and claim....

He shook his head to clear that thought. He wasn’t attracted to her as a person. it was just the way she seemed to carry herself, like the perfect prey....

“i still think that idiot  should have worded that better.” Jimin shook his head.

Taehyung shrugged.  He didn’t want to talk about Seo Joon. 

“Let’s go get something to eat. Drinks on me.” He smiled, slinging a hand over his friend’s shoulder.

Jimin sighed but acquiesced, letting him lead him to the glittering black Bugatti near the parking lot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a little past one in the morning when Taehyung finally reached the pier, ready to take his personal boat to the island when he noticed the commotion near the loading dock. 

He felt his eyes widen, when he saw a couple of humans, looking frazzled and upset as they climbed out of the ferry.

“what’s going on?” He asked his skipper urgently and the man looked up from where he was lifting the anchor.

“There’s been some sort of riot on the island, sir. some of the wolves got together and tried to attack the humans in the research center.” He said casually.

Taehyung felt his heart leap into his throat.

“What?” He croaked. 

“Yeah, they got all of them off i think. The wolves are nearly feral with anger out there. Something about the research people being the reason the kids were sick in the first place...that they were the ones who brought them to the preserve in the first place...”

Oh fuck.

Oh  fuck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She wasn’t there.

 Taehyung went through the two halls where all the humans from the preserve were sitting. once. Twice. And then again. 

 They were all wet and shivering, clutching their meager possessions and looking lost but he couldn’t focus on any of them. He tried to catch her scent, that soft buttery smell of cinnamon and lavender... but it wasn’t there. 

She wasn’t there. 

He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to bring himself to think. 

Seo Joon. He had to call Seo joon.

“Hello...” Seo Joon sounded groggy. 

“Mirae’s still on the island.” He choked out.

Seo Joon groaned.

“Who?” He croaked.

“Yoon Mi Rae....that  tech from the research center.” 

Seo joon scoffed.

“That little lab rat? Didn’t she get on the ferry that was carting all the rest of the vermin back to the mainland?” Seo Joon sounded bored.

“She isn’t here, Seo joon..this is your fault. You shouldn’t have talked that shit on  TV..... you need to go find her and make sure she’s safe...I’m coming over...” Taehyung snapped. 

Seo Joon made a noise of impatience.

“I’m sleeping Tae. And besides, if she stayed behind, she’s probably been ripped to shreds by now. Serves the little bitch right.” 

Taehyung felt the blood freeze in his veins. 

“Seo joon, we can’t let a human get hurt under our watch.” He said shakily. 

“Really? why the fuck not... it isn’t like they have any qualms about hurting our kind. its her own damn fault, coming here and acting like she’s fucking mother Teresa...I hope they fucking ravaged her. Should be a nice message to any other fool that wants to come traipsing into our land..” 

Taehyung realized he couldn’t speak sense to the man. He hung up quickly, calling for him chuffeur. There was not enough time to take the boat... 

“Lee?” He said sharply. “ I’m gonna need the chopper.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He found her in her cabin, tied up and tossed in a corner while some of the betas shifted around the entrance. They had been growling and gnashing their teeth when he had arrived but some kind of restraint had kept them from actually killing her. 

But they hadn’t left her unscathed.

 Taehyung tried not to let his claws pop, his eyes taking in the way she looked.

Her clothes were torn off and she had clearly been sleeping when they’d broken into the cabin , dressed as she was in a tattered white t shirt , plain white panties and mismatched socks. Her jaw was bruised, a trickle of blood dried down her chin. Her left eyes was swollen shut and her breathing was ragged and came in short, painful little rasps and it clearly hurt her which meant that she definitely had a few broken ribs. 

Fuck. Fuck. 

“This wasn’t right.” He said sharply and the betas cowered. 

“She’s the reason the pups are sick...” one of the men said and the others mumbled their assent. 

“Where is the proof?” Taehyung snapped.” We do not mete out punishments when there is no proof. We’re better than that.” 

The betas shifted guiltily and the stench of wolfsbane made him sigh. They were mostly drunk.

“Get out of here. The whole lot of you and get ready to get carted off to prison tomorrow when she presses charges.”

He watched them leave, waiting for the last wolf to leave before turning to her. 

She was staring at him with her one good eye. 

“You gonna...” She began and then stopped, shutting her eyes in pain. “ tell me you told me so...” 

She was clearly in agony, the putrid stench of her pain filled the room and Taehyung couldn’t breathe.

“you need to get to the hospital.” He muttered, frozen in place. She sighed.

“Can’t... Don’t want anyone...to know.” 

He stared at her.

“Mi rae...”

“itll make things worse....for your kind.... “ She rasped out. “ Won’t press charges...”

He couldn’t believe her.

“You’re willing to not press charges...?” He said slowly.

She sighed and nodded a little.

“Please help me.”She said softly and his heart lurched.

He moved quickly, crouching next to her and popping his claw to cut through the ropes binding her. She fell into his chest at once, crying out in pain when he gripped her arms to steady her. 

“It’s okay... I got you...” He said softly, loosening his hold and cradling her in his arms. She blinked at him.

“i don’t have anyone.” She said suddenly.

“What?”

“Family. i don’t have anyone.... You need... You need to let me stay with you. Till i get better...Can’t let anyone know....what happened....” She whispered.

He was nodding before the words even registered. Staring into her eyes, he felt like he could have agreed to any damn thing she’d ask him. 

She nodded and then closed her eyes.

“i’m gonna sleep now.” She said weakly. 

And then went limp in his arms. 

Fuck.

 Fuck. 

#taehyung smut #taehyung fics #bts fics #bts smut #bts werewolf #werewolf au #bts v #v fics #kim taehyung #bts kim taetae #taehyung werewolf #bts taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung fic

[gehlien]

eremin | soulmate AU | 2,4k | fluff, mutual pining & happy ending

Eren Jaeger had a simple ‘hi’ written on his wrist, aka the blandest thing the universe could come up with for him.

He couldn’t count the amount of mini heart attacks he’d experienced every time someone introduced themselves to him. The sudden leap from being hopeful to feeling disappointed always left a dry taste in his mouth. To prevent such situations, every time he heard ‘hi’ he would respond with some stupid sayings or random facts about marine life. Thanks to this he got plenty of weirded-out acquaintances, but no soulmate, because apparently no one had ‘I sexually identify as an alien’ tattooed on their skin.

Also, his sudden crush on his best friend Armin wasn’t helping at all. Because they were never supposed to work out. At least that’s what the experts said.

As opposed to Eren, the universe cursed Armin with the most bizarre soulmate mark it could offer. Many people had snorted their noodles out of their noses upon discovering it, others had made some silly remarks about it being kinky. Their reactions were totally understandable and justified, because how many people have ‘daddy’ forever carved onto their skin? A very exposed piece of skin, on top of that.

Another discouraging thing was the fact that all of their friends had already found their soulmate. In the case of Connie and Sasha, there was no room for misunderstanding, because each one of them had a very specific message on their skin. ‘Can I have your potatoes?’ and ‘Aren’t you afraid you’ll get too fat?’ are really hard to miss. Jean’s and Mikasa’a teetered on the edge of a casual exchange (‘Your hair is beautiful!’ followed by a simple ‘Thanks’), so it was a close call, but they managed to find themselves eventually, much to Eren’s displeasure.

“Come on, Armin, everyone knows what your mark says. You should stop wearing long sleeves to school,” Eren said, tugging at the hem of Armin’s shirt while they were on the bus.

“But the teachers have no idea,” he objected.

“If you’re so worried about it then you could cover it with another tattoo.”

“I’m not over eighteen yet.”

“You could get a written permission from you grandad?” Eren was one of these people who believed that finding a solution to a problem was always possible. As long as you also wanted to find it, of course. Which Armin seemed really reluctant to do.

“Maybe I’ll do it when I find my soulmate.”

“Why? Are you worried they won’t believe that it really says what is says?” It was supposed to be a genuine question, but came out as a snicker. “By the way, who the hell would be crazy enough to call you that in the first place? Probably some twat.”

“People these days are very cautious, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they wanted to check it. Which is understandable. I’d also want to be completely sure first before deciding to spend the rest of my life with one person,” said Armin, ignoring Eren’s second comment. “And that’s why you have to be three times as certain. In your case it’s even trickier.”

“I know,” he sighed. “Hi? This system is fucking stupid.”

“But accurate.”

“Who knows? Maybe there’s another person who’s so much better than your ‘soulmate’, but you’ll never know because you settled for what your wrist tattoo told you.”

Eren just couldn’t take it all at face value. Not when the love of his life was walking right beside him. It wouldn’t take a lot of effort to reach for the other boy’s hand. ‘Why can’t this be you?’ he thought, admiring Armin’s diminutive stature, his cute button nose, regal profile, and swaying blond bangs.

He looked at his tattoo, “I wish it said ‘Why don’t you ever fight back?’”. It was the first sentence he’d ever spoken to Armin and since then they’d always been on the same wavelength, no matter the circumstances. How could fate make such a grave mistake?

“I’m staying the night at Jean’s,” Mikasa said, stuffing her backpack with pyjamas and skin care products. “You can invite Armin over.”

“Does mom know?” Eren asked, propping his head on his hand. It was a sunny Friday evening, but he hadn’t got enough rest, so there he was lying flat on his stomach and scrolling through Facebook.

“Of course.”

“Use protection,” he whispered loud enough for her to hear. In turn, Mikasa threw a towel at his face. “Ew, I hope it never had anything to do with horseface’s body fluids.” He threw it back, and Mikasa caught it effortlessly.

“You wish.”

“Dude... you’re disgusting.”

He texted Armin that he was welcome to come over if he wanted. Armin didn’t let him down and agreed without second thoughts. Eren felt his soul ascend.

No other person in the world would ever be able to make him appreciate life as much as Armin. ‘They were perfect for each other’ didn’t even fit the description of how special their bond really was. But there existed a word that could.

Soulmate.

Remember that person you thought about in superlatives only, who met all of your expectations, understood you like no one else, and on top of that had an adorable laugh? Whose only flaw was that they were off limits? That’s how Eren perceived his current situation.

Eren looked at his wrist with burning hatred. He wanted to cry, scream, and punch, but instead he looked at Mikasa with bland expression, defeated.

“Are you happy with Jean?”

Mikasa looked at him, her expression stunned, and put down her phone.

“Yes. Why are you asking?”

“Are you sure he’s the one for you?”

“Well...” She put some stray hair behind her ear in one graceful motion. “We’ve been together for a year now... And I have no complains so far. Actually, I’m happy it’s him.”

“Hm...,” he let out a soft grunt. “Thanks, Mikasa. Have fun.”

After she left the room Eren desperately tried to look up some phrases like ‘soulmate mistakes’ or ‘wrong soulmate assigned to me’, but all in vain. The system was foolproof.

The only results that kind of answered his query were extreme cases like premature deaths, murderers, no soulmate mark or more than one tattoo. All interesting, but did nothing to calm his nerves.

Armin came into his house in a simple black T-shirt, no long sleeves in sight, and Eren sighed with relief. Also, he couldn’t deny that Armin looked like a snack with his forearms exposed and collarbone peeking from behind the material. ‘Is this what people call thirsty?,’ he thought, standing up to grab some spare pillows.

They spent an eternity deciding on a show to watch. The laptop lying on Eren’s lap generated so much heat that in the middle of the movie he had to take off his tank top.

The moment he did it Armin said, “I would kill for an iced coffee.”

Eren sent him a suspicious glare. Was it a direct comment about his bare torso? He wished it was, but at the same time he didn’t allow himself to interrogate Armin more, because in the worst case he’d be outed as a desperate over-reactor.

“I was thinking about going to a night club,” Armin said immediately after the credits rolled on the screen.

“Huh? Why?” The picture of Armin in such a dilapidated, dirty location rubbed Eren up the wrong way.

“I think that’s the place where I’m the most likely to be called...you know, daddy. God, it sounds so stupid.” The fact that Armin still couldn’t openly discuss his mark made the situation even more amusing. Frustration looked funny on his face. “Why are you laughing?”

“It’s good to see that I’m not the only one who’s desperate,” Eren said, winking at him suggestively.

Armin snorted, but let it go.

“Well, all jokes aside, it’s high time we finally found them,” he sighed.

As it turned out later, the drastic measures Armin proposed weren’t needed at all.

A distinct sound of giggles lured them both downstairs, where they found Carla and Armin’s mum sitting on the couch and visibly out of breath.

Upon entering the room they exchanged concerned glances. What was the purpose of this weird meeting?

“Why are you so shocked?” asked Armin’s mum.

“Who told you that old women couldn’t have a girls’ night?” Carla barely kept her composure.

There was a bottle of wine, half empty, and it explained everything. Eren sighed with great pain and drank straight from it; so did Armin a moment later, except he only took a gulp.

“Oi, you’re still a baby!” Carla’s motherly instinct kicked in despite her silly state.

Eren stuck his tongue out and launched himself at the pillows next to Carla. She just waved at him dismissively. Armin plopped down next to his mother and she ruffled his pretty hair. ‘They’re like two peas in a pond,” Eren thought. If you compared their looks and body type, they were almost the same: short, slim, and blonde.

Only Armin’s eyes made a difference, beautiful, deep, and ocean-like. Simply mesmerising.

“What are you doing?” Armin asked, peeking with curiosity above his mother’s arm. That’s when Eren also noticed she was holding a box full of photos.

“We were just talking about what a pain in the neck you two were when you were little,” Carla huffed, crossing her arms on her chest.

“Always ready to fight...” Armin’s mum sighed, probably remembering some vivid details.

“...and Mikasa had to save you every time...”

“because someone couldn’t stop baiting flat earthers...”

Armin let out a nervous laugh. He looked at Eren and shrugged. It really was pretty dumb.

“...and someone couldn’t contain his aggression.” Carla pulled Eren’s ear, who in turn yodelled.

“We get it!” They both said at the same time.

Carla went through the photos and took one with Eren still in diapers. She smiled fondly before showing it to others. “You were cute though,” she said. “I can’t believe you are already sixteen.”

“Muuum,” Eren whined. He couldn’t believe she had forgotten. “I’m already seventeen.” He hoped it was a joke.

Carla’s hand stopped mid-air, her eyes filled with dread. She quickly concealed it and mouthed something to Armin’s mother, who in turn paled and nodded.

“Really?” Eren raised a brow. He wasn’t offended or anything like that, he was just surprised by his mother’s forgetfulness. She always remembered about other people’s birthdays.

“As if you remember how old I am,” she said in an attempt to redeem herself.

“Forty five?” It sounded more like a question than a statement.

“You hesitated.”

“But I’m right,” Eren argued. Carla didn’t respond. Without saying a word, she got up and started rummaging through a cardboard labelled “kids”, and finally found a VHS cassette. Eren hadn’t seen one in a long time.

“What is it for?” Armin asked, out of his depth. For the whole time he was just watching the situation unfold like a complete bystander.

“You’ll see,” she said with a mischievous smirk.

Armin looked at his mother, hoping she’d give them some clue, but she shushed him. They could only watch Carla as she set up an old VHS recorder. It didn’t seem to cooperate at first, but eventually it swallowed the cassette whole.

Eren was expecting something tooth rotting and embarrassing, and his fears came true. He was now facing his ten month old self with chubby cheeks and running nose.

“Smile at mummy! Eren, look!” Grisha pointed at Carla, who was hidden behind the camera. She giggled. “Mummy’s right here!” The kid finally looked at the camera with innocent curiosity.

“Daddy?”

“Not daddy. It’s mum! M-u-m,” he said it, prolonging every vowel. This time little Eren managed to reproduce the sound with his unique, childish accent.

“Aww.” Carla was in awe.

Off-screen the door let out a soft creak, and then footsteps could be heard. Armin’s mum appeared in the frame with long fair hair and a cute baby boy in tow.

“Oh, who’s that? It’s auntie and Armin” Grisha told excited Eren, who suddenly started wriggling in his arms, probably begging to be put down on the floor. Mister Jaeger compelled and another shot showed Eren sitting in front of Armin, who seemed very interested in his thin brown hair. Eren, on the other hand, couldn’t stop staring into his big azure eyes. Some things never change.

“Daddy,” he said suddenly.

Armin, of course, didn’t understand, but replied with a word of his own.

“Hi.”

And then everything clicked into place.

Eren immediately found Armin’s eyes. They were looking back with delight.

“Does it mean what I think it means?” Eren asked, breathless. He felt as if a certain weight had been lifted.

“I can’t believe this...,” Armin said, and for a moment Eren’s heart stopped. Was he disappointed? Unsatisfied? “I’m so glad it’s you.”

If it weren’t for their mothers’ presence, Eren would jump into his arms and smother his face with kisses. One for every time he’d wanted to do that before. Unfortunately, he had to stay civil. At least for another while.

“I guess we’ll leave you boys to yourself?” Carla asked, visibly content with the outcome of this situation.

“Yeah.” Eren nodded. “Just one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Why have you kept this a secret for so long?” The question was also directed at Armin’s mum.

“Oh, honey...,” Carla sighed. “Would you rather I had told you when you were fourteen?”

“Yes. No.” Eren hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Children this age have better things to worry about than falling in love.”

“We were worried it would change your relationship. And you weren’t ready for romance yet,” Armin’s mother added, getting up and dragging Carla behind her. “We’ll leave you alone for a while.”

“Remember about consent. It’s important.” Was the last thing Carla said before exiting the room, and later the house.

It’s awkward, Eren thought, seeing how Armin kept avoiding his gaze. He could relate; those weren’t the best circumstances to find out someone you had already spent half your life with was your legitimate soulmate. At the same time, he understood his mother’s decision to withhold this news. It wasn’t a coincidence that 98% of people found their significant others in high school or even later.

“I’ve had a crush on you since we started high school,” Eren said to loosen the atmosphere.

“I’ve had a crush on you since you punched Floch that time.”

“Holy shit, that’s long!”

“But I think I always knew. That it’s you, I mean.”

“And are you happy about this?”

“Of course.”

“You’re lying!”

“Have I ever lied to you, Eren?”

Eren smiled. “Never.” Trying not to act too obviously, he sat a little bit closer. “So, can I kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Armin smiled and leaned in for a kiss, meeting Eren halfway.

#eremin #erearu #eren jaeger #armin arlert #fic #snk #had to post it here cause i'm proud!!! #also it's happy and light hearted #exactly what we need after last chapters #mywriting

[egg690]

I Thought You Said That You Knew How to Bake?!

Word Count: 2051

A/N: Hey guys! Guess who’s back in time for spooky season?! I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted something like this, but I finally got some inspiration and decided to whip this up. As always, if you have any criticism for me, please send it in. Also, I’m taking requests, so send those in, too! Lastly, the reader and Peter are 18/19 in this fic. Enjoy!

*** Checking my phone for the millionth time that night, I saw the exact same response I had every other time, which was absolutely nothing. You see, I had planned a date with my boyfriend, Peter, and yet again our plans had fallen through due to his never-ending duties as Spiderman. He told me that he would let me know how his latest mission had gone as soon as he could, but not a word had been heard from him within the three and a half hours that he had been gone.

Soon enough, I decided that I couldn’t just sit and wait for him to come back, he would do that when he could. I needed to find something to do to take my mind off of him being gone. After some internal debate, I ended up calling my older sister, Olivia, to see what she was up to.

“Hello?” I heard her familiar voice pick up after three rings. She sounded tired, to say the least.

“Hey! Just calling to check in. How’s everything going?” I asked, happy to be talking to her again. It was hard to find time to catch up ever since she had her daughter, Mia. Don’t get me wrong, I love Mia to the moon and back (she is my niece, after all), but kids were time consuming, so these moments were rare. I flopped down onto the red pull-out sofa that resided in my living room, hanging my legs over the side.

“Oh, things are fine. I’ve been up all night trying to figure out how to make these freakin’ pies for Mia’s fall bake sale tomorrow, but I can’t stop messing it up. I’ve literally tried doing this about a dozen times with no successes.” She replied, and I could already hear the frustration in her voice. I pulled my phone away from my ear to check the time. It was already 2:14AM. It was a lot later than I thought it was.

“I’ll tell you what.” I began, coming up with an idea that would help my sister and give me something to do. “I’m waiting up for someone and looking for something to do. I can bake those pies for you and you can get some sleep. Plus, I’m pretty sure I have most, if not all, of the ingredients at my apartment already.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that. I’ve got it handled.” She denied, perking up a bit.

“Olive, dude, I insist. I’m good at baking, and can have this done in a couple of hours. I’ll be sure to drop them off before you take Mia to school. Please?” I pushed, wanting her to say yes.

“Alright, alright, you can do it. I owe you one.” She surrendered. “I do need those by 7:00 tomorrow morning, though.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I teased, saluting her, even though I knew nobody could see.

We said our goodbyes and I hung up the phone, springing up off of the couch. I made my way into the kitchen, googling what I would need to do this, and it appeared that I had everything that I needed.

Except the sugar. Of course.

I had forgotten that I had lended it to my neighbor, Ellen, and she had never given it back. I wasn’t about to ask for it back, as it was still 2:00AM, and I wasn’t going to wake up an elderly woman, as she was in her late seventies, early eighties, just to ask for my sugar back. I just decided to walk to the nearest corner store, as it was only a few blocks from my apartment complex. Plus, I like nighttime walks, especially during this time of year. New York was crowded, yes, but it was gorgeous this time of year.

I exited my apartment building, and I immediately felt the autumn breeze blowing softly against my face. It was a welcomed change from the sweltering summer heat. My black heeled boots were loud as they hit the concrete sidewalk, but aside from the chirping crickets, it was the only sound to be heard for miles, so I didn’t mind. It was relaxing, really. The only lights around were the street lights scattered around the area, illuminated the path.

A smile crept onto my face when I looked at the trees. One of my favorite parts of autumn was seeing the changes in nature. In this case, it was the leaves that were turning a yellow-orange and falling onto the ground, some being swept away by the wind, and some staying where they were.

I walked for a few more minutes, before reaching the corner store. It had a homey feeling to it, probably since I had been going there since middle school. It was run by an older man, his name was Kenny, who used to be a father figure to me and Olivia and good friends with my mother. Speaking of, even though we only lived about ten minutes away from each other, I hadn’t seen my mom since I moved out to attend college. I tried contacting her for a while, but after she refused to answer time and time again, I gave up. I guess our relationship wasn’t as good as I had once thought it to be.

But that’s besides the point. I made my way to the back of the store, to where most of the baking supplies were kept. I grabbed a bag of sugar and made my way to Kenny, who was working the cash register.

I set the sugar on the counter before greeting him fondly. “Hey, Kenny! It’s been a while. How are you doing?”

“I’ve been doing good, darling. How about you? It’s awful late for you to be out doing some shopping.” He replied, sounding curious. “Also, that’ll be $2.99.”

“Mia has got a bake sale tomorrow and I offered to bake the pies she needs, since Olivia was having trouble with it.” I explained, pulling the cash out of my pocket and handing it to Kenny.

“Gotcha.” He nodded, handing me a bag with the sugar in it. “You have a good night, alright? And call me if you need anything.”

“I will. Have a good night, Ken.” I smiled, walking out of the shop and making my way home.

I entered my apartment, kicking my shoes off to the side and making my way into the kitchen. I was pulling the ingredients out of my cabinet when I heard three sharp knocks against my window making me jump, dropping the wrapped stick of butter. I yelped out of fright and I whipped around to see Peter, clinging onto the window of my apartment, sending me a wave.

I sighed in relief upon seeing that it was just him. “Goddamnit, Peter. I swear, that boy is going to be the death of me.” I mumbled before opening the window to let him in.

“Hey, (Y/N).” Peter greeted, taking his mask off and kissing me, which I gladly returned, cupping his cheek.

“Hey, you. I’m pretty sure you left a spare outfit over here the last time you stayed over. They’re in my room, if you want to get out of that suit.” I offered, smiling brightly at him.

He thanked me, beginning to walk to my room, but stopping in his tracks to face me. “Look, (Y/N), I’m really sorry we had to cancel again. But, Mr. Stark called me, and he had a lead on that guy who was dealing whatever was left of his old weapons.”

“Pete, I get it. You’re a superhero and have other commitments to handle. If saving lives takes priority over us going out for a date, trust me, I’ll understand. Now, go get your ass out of that suit and come help me with this.” I replied.

“With what?” He asked, an eyebrow raising in curiosity.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” I teased, grinning at him before picking up the previously forgotten stick of butter off of the cold kitchen tile. “Thank God it was still wrapped.” I mumbled to myself, laughing quietly.

After a few minutes, I had everything out on the counter and Peter reentered the kitchen wearing his baggy, grey sweatshirt and a pair of black sweatpants, and his hair was messy, sticking up in various places.

“Now that I’m changed, will you please tell me what you need help with?” He whined, obviously plagued with the need to fulfill his curiosity as to what he needed to do.

“Well,” I began, reaching up and tucking his soft, brown lock back into place. “I called Olivia about an hour ago and Mia has her fall bake sale tomorrow. I offered to help her out by baking a couple of pies for them to take to Mia’s school tomorrow morning. And it just so appears that I need an assistant. You up for the challenge?” I asked, moving my hands down onto his hips.

“Yes, Chef (Y/N), I am. I’ve been told I’m pretty good at baking, so I’m pretty sure we’ve got this in the bag.” He agreed, looking at my laptop, which was currently residing on the counter with the recipes pulled up. “Okay, so the first step is to add the flour and the salt.”

“Oh, I’ve got the flour right…” I trailed off looking for the unopened bag of flour. “here!” I tried opening the bag, but I wasn’t able to. It was as if it was superglued together. Weird. “Hey babe, I can’t get this bag open. Can you?” I asked, holding it out to him.

“Oh yeah, of course.” He took the bag from me and he pulled the edges apart with all his might, apparently forgetting that he had super strength. As a result, the bag tore open, exploding all over him and my kitchen.

I began to cackle at the scene before me. My boyfriend looked like he was caked in snow, his mouth gaping open in shock as to what he’d just done. “Oh my God!” I cried in between laughs. “I thought you said you were good at baking?!” I teased.

He didn’t respond, although a devilish grin filled his features as he stood up and walked towards me. “Come on, (Y/N), can I please have a hug?” He asked, feigning innocence.

“Peter Benjamin Parker, I swear, if you get any of that flour on me, you will be sleeping on that couch for the rest of your days.” I threatened, backing away from him. Before I knew it, he began chasing me through the apartment. Eventually though, I was cornered. There’s only so far you can run in a one-bedroom apartment, after all. Peter took this opportunity to pick me up and pull me to him, covering me with flour, as I struggled to escape his grasp.

“Damn it, Peter.” I grumbled, playfully. “Now not only are we covered in flour, but so is my entire apartment. I hope you enjoy sleeping on that couch.”

“Okay, so maybe I’m not so good at baking, but I will vacuum your apartment if you don’t banish me to the couch. Do we have a deal?” He offered, still carrying me.

“Fine, I suppose that will work.” I grinned, ignoring his hand, instead pulling him in for a kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck to deepen this kiss, even though I knew I was just getting more flour on my clothes. Eventually, I pulled away, getting back onto the ground. “But first, you are taking a shower, mister. I don’t need more flour in this damn apartment.”

“Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea.” He agreed, making his way to my bathroom, although stopping in the doorway. “What about you? Don’t you want to join me? I mean, you are also covered in flour.” He offered, shooting me a seductive look.

“Not this time, Spidey. Thankfully, most of it is on my clothes, so I’ll be okay if I change. Maybe next time.” I winked at him before turning back to my bedroom, to hurry up and get changed. I still had a bunch of pies to make for a five year old, after all.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #marvel #spiderman x reader #spiderman #fanfiction

[pacman-tattoo]

countdown [rich g. x reader]

( can I request. rich. loke anything with rich. maybe when ur taller than him? possibly with a non gender specific reader, but I'll take everything. expecially written by u bc goals )

i love rich. so much.

also there arent enough fics for rich

aka if u see a rich fic then @ me babes

warnings: general swearing tbh uh rich is probably out of character and I Tried

     Four years. Four years, a hundred days, four hours, and thirty minutes. That’s what your wrist had said the last time you checked it - only days ago, so you only expected to have said days taken off and didn’t bother looking at your wrist the entire move, assuming everything would stay the same. Then at some point on the morning before your first day at Middleborough, you had managed to shove the sleeve of your hoodie down and caught a glimpse of the timer there - only expecting the seconds to be ticking down from years.

0 yrs 0 days 5 hrs 12 min 20 sec

     Your heart had stopped in your chest - four years and a hundred days had disappeared within... how long had it been like this? Since Friday? Fuck, you weren’t sure. Now you just stood in the bathroom, watching seconds pass by, counting down to the very moment you’d meet your soulmate. What if they weren’t a good person? What if you were doomed to be soulmates with an asshole? You pressed your back against the door, staring down at the seconds that kept ticking down, minutes wasting away before your eyes.

     You had to wonder how they were feeling. How they might have woken up and seen the timer at their wrist jumped - hell, they might have realized it when it first happened. You hoped that maybe they did realize when it first happened - that you were just dumb for a moment. Maybe their heart raced at the thought of meeting you, or maybe they didn’t notice.

     Oh god, what if they didn’t notice?

     The sudden pounding at the bathroom door was enough to offset your thoughts as you tore away from it, pulling it open only to be greeted with the sight of your younger sister, Sam, looking annoyed.

    “Mama said we need to go wait for the bus,” she said, arms crossed across her chest, “and mom said I couldn’t leave without you.”

     Well, at least someone’s looking out for you, if your sister isn’t. “‘Kay,” you said, shrugging off your current thoughts about time ticking past and soon to dash into your room, snatching your bag from the floor before making your way downstairs.

     In the kitchen sat your parents; Charlotte and Joanne, two lovely women who met in their twenties after their countdown ended right at a bus-stop where Joanne had been on her way to an interview and Charlotte had ended up taking the bus after her roommate borrowed her car. It was a cute story that you adored growing up and you still enjoyed from time to time - especially when you started thinking about your own soulmate.

     “Oh my god, [y/n], come on.” Sam brushed past you, shoving an apple into your hand, and dashing out of the house before your parents could say a word to her.

     “Have a nice day, honey,” Charlotte - or, well, mom to Sam and sometimes for you - called out. You forced a smile and left to catch up to your sister.

     For the most part, the bus was as you expected it - no one really paid attention to you and Sam as you slid into a seat. Sometimes you caught the glance of someone whispering - who are the new kids; have you seen them; the little sister’s kinda cute, i mean, shit- and you suppress a small smile at the last one and shot a glare in the direction of where it came from - fuck, her older- yeah i saw them glare at me, shut up, they’re looking-

     Sam elbowed you. “Stop.” 

     You chuckled. She smiled a little in return. At least Sam could calm you.

     Hours passed by quickly, a schedule shoved into your hands before you were guided to your first class. Classes went by quickly, your eye pinned to the disappearing seconds, minutes slipping away from you until the bell jerked you from your thoughts. Lunch. You were going to meet your soulmate at lunch. Maybe then it wouldn’t be so awkward.

0 yrs 0 days 0 hrs 3 min 10 sec

     You bit your bottom lip and made your ward toward the cafeteria. You got lost. You asked a nearby student. They pointed you in the right direction. You glanced at your wrist again.

0 yrs 0 days 0 hrs 1 min 4 sec

     Your heart was racing. Second by second went by as you slowly wandered down the hall.

0 yrs 0 days 0 hrs 0 min 20 sec

     This was fine. You were fine. Everything was fine.

 0 yrs 0 days 0 hrs 0 min 11 sec

     You held your breath. Ten.

     Nine.

    Eight.

    Seven.

    Six.

    Five. 

    Four.

     Three.

     Two.

     One-

    “Fucking - watch it!”

     For a split second there were hands on you, shoving you roughly toward the lockers as you tore your eyes away from your wrist. The clang of metal and the pain that spread through your back was enough to get the attention of other students - most of which only glanced over at you, hesitating to look away until you stood back up and took that as a sign you’d be alright before continuing on their way. You fought back any tears - if not from being snapped at and shoved aside, from the pain that lingered in your back. How hard did he push you?

    “Woah, hey, are you okay?”

     You looked up to see some kid with headphones standing in front of you, his hands shoved into the pockets of a red hoodie. He stared at you, only for you to slowly nod, taking a deep breath as you pushed away from the cold metal behind you.

     “Could be better,” you said with a shrug, before staring at the boy for a moment - wasn’t he in one of your classes? 

     “You’re the new kid, right?” He said after a brief pause. You nodded. “I’m Michael.”

     “[y/n]. So, uh,” you glanced back in the direction that boy had gone in, before looking back to Michael, “is... everyone like that? Because, I mean, a little heads up would be nice.”

     Michael shook his head, “just the assholes.” There’s a pause before he speaks again. “What were you staring at?”

     You frowned slightly - staring...? - before it clicked. Your timer. You shoved your sleeve down your arm as you gazed at the flashing numbers: 0 yrs 0 days 0 hrs 0 min 0 sec.

      “Michael?” You looked back up to him. He shook his head, pulling down his own sleeve - his timer still counting down. Then who...?

     Oh no.

     Oh no no no

     This wasn’t happening

     This was not happening

     “Michael?” You managed to croak, voice shaking, “who just pushed me?”

      He stared at you for a moment. “... Rich?” You nodded frantically, and you swore you must have been shaking because Michael stepped back, giving you a little space. “Hey, are you alright?”

      You shook your head, jutting your wrist out to Michael. He looked form your face to the timer, before scanning over the line of zeroes. “Wait. You’re not saying that Rich-”

     “... I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

      It turns out things at Middleborough had changed before you arrived. Aside from what you heard - Jeremy Heere used to be a nerd, didn’t he? But... he’s actually pretty cool... Rich is friends with him, at least. And Jake seems to be friends with him! Didn’t he have some stupid shit with some sort of sheets... - you had Sam to report shit to you since, apparently, word traveled fast.

     “Some dude in your grade,” she had said, cutting away from a story about this one dork in band, “pushed his fucking soulmate earlier.”

     “Hm.”

     “Yeah. Rich something.”

     “How do you know it was his soulmate?”

     “Well...” She began, “I heard it from Matthew... who heard it from this guy, Nathan, who’s friends with this other guy. Dustin, I think. Apparently Dustin knows shit."

     “Did they say who he pushed?”

     “Nah,” she said, “at least, no one seemed to know them.” She paused, looking to you, “why are you so interested?”

      You shrugged. “Soulmate shit. I think about it sometimes.”

      She didn’t believe you. But she dropped it, “what kind of an asshole pushes anyone around?”

     You only shrugged again. You didn’t know - nor did you want to know, honestly.

      Too bad you’d have to find out eventually.

     One week later and somehow word had spread. New kid’s soulmate timer is at zero. They met their soulmate? Lucky. I wish I could meet my soulmate. Wait, was it zero when they first got here though? Rich Goranski’s timer is at zero too. What if they’re soulmates?

      No. That’s stupid. They wouldn’t be soulmates. 

      But what if they were?

     “He-ey, new kid!”

      You winced at the sound of a chair scraping along the floor as it was turned Some guy with frosted tips and a smile that could win over anyone’s heart instantly was sitting in front of you, leaning over the back of the chair. You’d only heard of this guy and even then you didn’t remember his name. Something like Jason or James or-

      He awkwardly introduced himself when you didn’t respond. “I’m Jake. We have math together?”

      Close enough. But you forced a smile. “[y/n].”

     “So. Where are you from?”

      This was weird. Since when did Jake - popular kid/prince charming Jake, apparently - talk to you? You rattled off your hometown anyway. “It’s nothing special.”

      He only smiled again. “So... I was thinking... maybe you’d like to come to this Halloween party I’ve been planning. You’re new and-”

     “I don’t do parties.” That was... a lie, kind of. You could go to a party - when you knew people there. Parties weren’t always your thing, but they could be fun.

     “Rich will be there,” he said, “and you can meet people.”

     “I don’t know Rich.”

     “Oh. Yeah. Right, sorry,” he said, “just... think about it. Here,” he picked up a stray pen off of your desk, scribbling a string of numbers onto the corner of a piece of paper, “you can text me if you wanna come.”

     So you did. After you talked to Michael about it and somehow managed to convince him to give you a ride there and back - something he seemed a little to glad to give you, for some reason. So you donned some Harry Potter costume you found after a quick trip to the store, not giving half a shit whether people complimented or made fun of you because Harry Potter was fucking great and they could deny it if they wanted.

       Rich hadn’t seen you. He didn’t see you when you arrived, he didn’t see you while you wandered the party with red solo cup you hadn’t sipped, and he didn’t see you when you finally ended up sinking into a spot on the couch. But at some point during the night he felt a shock travel down his spine, steering him in another direction, and had words constantly whispered to him to guide his every movement. Eventually it got to him.

       It wasn’t until he finally drank something - even the smallest sip - that he saw you, sitting alone. New kid. The one with a timer set to zero. The one he shoved only seconds before his own timer had zeroed out. So he crossed the room and threw himself into the seat next to you, catching your attention as the sudden shift nearly made you spill your drink. He didn’t speak first, and after a moment of silence from you, he assumed he’d have to.

       “You’re the new kid?” He said. Smart move, Rich.

       You only nodded. How many times had you heard that? But you spoke after a second, “[y/n].”

      “I’m Rich.” He smiled a little. The words were simple, but at least he didn’t force them - usually he had to throw on some aura, some mask that made him look cooler and careless and a bit of an asshole at times, but something about it just... he liked it.

      “I know.”

        Of course you did - he fucking shoved you in the hallway- fuck he wished he knew what to say to you. Where was-

       He winced slightly at the sudden Japanese that was thrust into his head - what the hell? You were staring at him. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck- Maybe if he gave you a-

       More Japanese. What the fuck was up with-

       He stopped. No. No, you were his soulmate for a reason, right? That meant you’d love him, right? No no no you were a stranger and-

       Suddenly there was more Japanese. Was that the reason why the fucking thing never let him drink?

      Well. It’d be a pretty fucking weird coincidence if you weren’t his soulmate. But why hadn’t he seen you after that moment? It was like you were just... gone. Invisible. Like someone had just erased you from his sight-

      “Rich?”

       He stood abruptly, muttering something under his breath. Fuck fuck he didn’t to fix this, he just had to find-

       You watched him leave.

       Fuck, you should have said something else to him. Maybe you could just find Michael and leave and maybe buy discount Halloween candy tomorrow with him. Maybe play that video game he kept talking about - the game he played with Jeremy. Pretend that maybe you could put off talking to Rich for another day.

       When you found Michael, he was dead silent and visibly distraught. Fuck discount Halloween candy, you’d buy whatever you could from Walmart and the two of you could game until you passed out. Michael deserved that. He deserved a distraction - and maybe he’d open up to you if he wanted to about whatever bothered him. So you showered him with stupid jokes and soon found yourself in his basement playing Hey You, Pikachu! -  which led to a conversation that consisted of “dude, you have a Nintendo 64?” and “yeah” - and making more stupid jokes that actually managed to make Michael smile.

       ... You might have told Pikachu to fuck off once or twice after it didn’t listen to either of you.

       You didn’t remember falling asleep on the couch, and honestly, who did? But the last thing you remembered was Michael playing Paper Mario or something and mumbling something. But you did wake up to a worried Michael, and the sound of a phone buzzing endlessly on a nearby table 

      “[y/n]?” Michael had whispered, “fuck, they said that-” he caught himself, “someone set Jake’s house on fire.”

      “Someone?” You mumbled, sitting forward slowly. Your phone buzzed again. You reached out and managed to snag it.

      He hesitated. Oh no. But then he spoke, softly, “...Rich.”

       You felt your blood run cold. Rich? Rich set Jake’s house on fire? Another buzz. Sam. Sam’s endless messages plagued you, pestering you about every detail and asking if you were alright and then the messages became more frantic. You managed to text her back a ‘I’m okay,’ which disrupted the rhythm of her panic-filled texts.

       Then she was calling you.

       You looked to Michael before answering, standing and stretching your limps as you walked away from the couch.

      “-Holy fuck, [y/n], what the fuck? I’ve been texting you for - never mind. Did you hear about-” She paused for barely half a second, “are you okay? Where are you-”

      When you interrupted her, you heard her take the smallest breath, “I’m fine, Sam. I’m with Michael.”

    “... Are you okay, though?”

    For a moment, you thought Sam somehow knew about Rich, about your timer, about everything you’d been hiding. You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t conflicted, though. Just - almost everything you saw of Rich just confused you. But just the way he crashed next to you, the way he gave you the smallest of smiles after he introduced himself - something just seemed... off.

    “[y/n]?” Her voice is soft. It’s nice.

    “Yeah."

    “When are you coming home?”

    You looked over to Michael, then pulled your phone away long enough to catch a glimpse of 9:43 a.m. “In a few hours. Before lunch, at the latest.”

    “... Alright. Mom and mama were freaking out - but-”

    Suddenly Sam was gone and you were met with the frantic shrill of Joanne, “[y/n]? Are you alright? Baby, you aren’t hurt, are you?”

    “I’m fine, mama, I left before anything happened-”

    “Where are you? Text me the address, I’ll come get you-”

    And she did. You thought that maybe you could get a few hours to yourself, just to think, but eventually you were in the backseat and you had Charlotte’s hand reached around the seat in one hand and Sam’s in the other and the dull silence between the four of you. It was the sort of silence you only heard about, the silence that came from an almost and the silence that came from the silent thanks that it was only an almost. Sam squeezed your hand. You squeezed back.

       When you got home, neither Charlotte nor Joanne asked any questions. The buzz of your phone brought you back to reality. First an unknown number introducing themselves as Jeremy - who, from your experience, you had no intention of talking to. How he got your number, you weren’t sure, but he asked how you were considering Rich (as if he somehow fucking knew, you had thought before shoving it away into the back of your mind) and you told him you wanted to be left alone. He pushed you slightly. You told him to fuck off. He didn’t text back.

       Then there was Michael. And then another unknown number - Dustin. You told Michael you’d talk to him later. Dustin you told to fuck off. You needed to think.

       Alone.

       Thursday morning, weeks later, you decided to skip school.  It turns out that Beth Israel - where Rich was currently - was a city away. Not that it was a problem - with enough research you found the easiest way was to hop on a train, make it there and find the hospital and way until visiting hours started, and then talk to Rich - who would hopefully be awake now. You managed to hook Michael into your plan - somehow convince him to drive you to the train station and pick you up - and were able to convince Sam to cover for you (and supply you some money she’d been stashing away with a few promises that you’d have to repay her later). So you met Michael and shoved your bag into the backseat of his PT Cruiser, and swung into the passenger seat. Halfway to the station, Michael had spoken to you.

      “What are you gonna do?”

       “Talk to him. About... this,” you said, motioning to your wrist.

       He nodded. “And?”

       You shrugged at this point, “find out what the fuck we’re gonna do. Look, if... he’s an asshole, I don’t want to be associated with him.” You paused. “Does that sound bad? Yeah, that sounds bad, fuck, I just don’t know what I’m gonna do, I just... I just want to talk to him.”

       Michael didn’t speak for the rest of the trip. Not until you had gotten out with your bag, saying he’d be there as soon as he could and just to watch out for yourself and the usual warnings you probably only ever heard from Joanne. You nodded and finally left him to go buy a ticket and find a place to wait. Almost twelve dollars later, you wished you could still count as a child.

       Oh well. Time to go see Rich and pray you don’t get in trouble.

       By some stroke of luck, you did manage to get through the hour ride and the walk to the hospital unscathed. You looked like some lost kid wandering into the hospital, asking a older lady behind the front desk where you could find the intensive care unit, before wandering and managing to find an elevator from her vague directions, punching the number for the floor. After a few seconds, the elevator jerked to life just after the dread began to build, but then it shuddered to a stop before the doors slid open and you were quickly out of the metal deathtrap.

       The waiting room was quiet, littered with few people, some softly chatting as they waited for someone to join their little party, few just reclined back with their heads against the wall - except for one teenage boy who decided to slump down and rest against the shiny plastic back cushion of the couch. It didn’t look comfortable, but he didn’t budge of shift in any way, so you could only assume he was fine. 

      While wandering aimlessly trying to find Rich’s room, you nearly ran into two men. One reeked of a mix of beer, cigarettes, and cheap cologne - and you only assumed he was trying to mask the other two scents. He looked nervous, hunched over slightly and his hands jammed into his pockets, only glowering at you for a second before stepping around. His friend - or younger brother or son, you weren’t sure - only mumbled an apology as he looked at you with eyes too familiar.

       But he and the other was gone before you could say anything.

       The scent lingered. Rich didn’t fucking know how he got in there, but he was glad he was alone once again. Well - at least Gabe was a nice sight. He rarely saw his brother sometimes so, even if his dad was there, there was at least something. And now he had balloons that Gabe probably bought from the gift shop - GET WELL SOON stretched across one in bright letters and the other one of those yellow balloons with the smiley face on it, both tied off and set on a table that’d be out of his reach even if he wasn’t in a cast.

       He looked to the ceiling, breathing deeply and shutting his eyes. Everything felt too quiet. Now he didn’t have a fucking Muppet telling him what to do - not that Rich didn’t still like the Muppets, but having Constantine hanging over his shoulder all the time wasn’t exactly making him love the Muppets.

       The door opened. Was it time for a nurse already? Fuck if he knew - he was just waiting for whenever he could get out and get home.

      “... Rich?”

       Wait.

       “... Are you awake?”

       He looked over to the door, and for a moment he swore he was dreaming. You wouldn’t be standing there - but you were.

       You kind of forced a smile as you shut the door behind you, walking over to his bed. “Hey.” 

       “Hey.”

       He stared at you. You reached to the straps at your shoulders, gently squeezing at them - a habit he swore he saw Jeremy do in the past. It was... weird, seeing you do it. “How are you?”

       “Fine.”

      “That’s... good, I guess.”

      “Why are you here?” He asked... rather bluntly, honestly - but he definitely didn’t expect you.

      “I wanted to talk. About... us.” You drew the sleeve back, holding out your wrist to him, “I think we’re-”

      “Soulmates. Yeah... I’m sorry.”

       Holy shit, he had a lisp.

      “[y/n]?”

      “Did you know?” You asked, “after you pushed me, I mean.” He shook his head. Well, at least there’s that out of the way.

      “Sorry,” he said again. You went to speak, but stopped, “look - I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole. But...” He paused, “we’re soulmates and...” Another pause. “I’m different now.”

       “Are you?” You asked. You’d heard of this shit before. “Rich, I just - I don’t want to get involved in something if things are going to be like they were before-”

      “They won’t be. Look-” he began, only to pause as he gathered his thoughts, “there was this... pill.” Drugs? “Like... a computer a-and it implants in your brain - and it tells you what to do. It’s called a SQUIP and-” He paused. “Jeremy Heere has one.”

      “Jeremy?” Then something came to mind - Jeremy Heere used to be a nerd. Jeremy used to be Michael’s friend. ... Then... maybe it was Jeremy who hurt Michael at the party- “Why?”

      “Mine told me to.”

      “Why did you have one?”

      “I... didn’t want to be a loser and someone said it could help me change into someone that my soulmate - you would like.”

      “Rich-”

      “Look, I’m sorry - but I want a chance. We’re supposed to work somehow, right?”

       You nodded. “Then... maybe after you get out? We can talk. We can be friends and shit.”

       He smiled. He had freckles. He’s adorable.

      “I didn’t tell my moms about you,” you admitted, slowly sitting down on a clear spot on the bed.

      “Moms?” He said slowly.

      “Yeah. Uh. Moms. And my sister - Sam, she’s younger than me,” you said a bit too quickly, “but I think I might tell them - if that’s fine with you, I mean.”

      “Uh. Yeah, go ahead.” He paused, “wait- he glanced over to the calendar, days  written on fully up until today, where only little writing was - “it’s... Thursday? Why aren’t you at school?”

      “I needed to talk to you,” you said, “and... today worked, I guess.”

      “Go to school,” he said.

      “Dude, I’m already here. Besides, the train I need doesn’t arrive until almost one. So... you’re stuck with me, Rich. Deal with it.”

       You and Rich talked until the hospital kicked you out of the room. You had refused to go to the actual hospital cafeteria for any sort of food, but Rich managed to convince you to stop by somewhere - a vending machine, food truck, anywhere - to get something to eat. It was kind of cute how he worried about you, telling you to be careful on the way home. So you promised you’d take care of yourself and set off from the hospital.

       You made it home in one piece, waiting on a bench for Michael to drive up - and after that, it was a nice ride home. Your mothers didn’t know, and Sam didn’t say anything about it to you. You weren’t sure how to break the news to your family, so you sat around for hours before dinner, googling and reading through countless guides and how to articles. Your heart nearly stopped when you heard the sharp knock before Sam called out that dinner was ready.

      Alright. You were just going to tell them that you met your soulmate over a month ago. No big deal.

      ... Very big deal.

       Big enough that you didn’t speak for half of dinner and didn’t realize the conversation fell silent. So you looked up and did the smartest thing.

      “I met my soulmate.”

       And by smartest thing, you literally just blurted it out without a second thought. That’s one way to break the news. Sam stared at you, Joanne kept looking from you to Charlotte, and Charlotte... was smiling like crazy.

      “Sweetie, that’s wonderful! Who are they?”

      “His name is Rich-”

      “Wait,” Sam immediately interjected, “you’re...”

       You nodded a little. “Yeah. I’ve... known for a little over a month-”

      “[y/n], what the hell?”

      “Language, Sam,” Joanne warned gently, “why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

       You shrugged. “I guess... I was scared?” You lied.

       They bought it. Charlotte gushed over the idea of you and this Rich boy, before immediately swatting away the thoughts of an actual relationship so soon because you were young and you had time to figure out what you and Rich were, only to be interrupted by Joanne - who shot you a wink as she nudged Charlotte to recount the story of when they first met. Then you brought up the idea of going back up to the hospital on Saturday - and then that was another round of questions. So you lied again, coming up with some bullshit excuse to why he’d be in Beth Israel. And while they didn’t buy it as easily as they did with your other lie, you had permission and money and planned to go visit Rich again.

      Eventually Rich got out of the hospital. The two of you began talking, and by extend - you and his friends began talking. You hadn’t gone to the play, but apparently one way or another the rest of the cast ended up with those... supercomputer pill things. They were nice, for the most part, even if you felt a little out of place. But at least there was Michael - who had his best friend back and definitely seemed much more chipper due to it - who was at the incident, but didn’t end up with a... SQUIP? You weren’t sure what it was - but Rich was different now and... he was actually kinda cute, when you really thought about it. He had a habit of saving a seat next to him for you, sometimes scooting closer and glancing to you to make sure this was okay, right? you were fine with this, right? no? alright - back i go, which eventually stopped happening as you grew used to having Rich next to you.

       Sometimes he’d send you dumb memes at three in the morning when he couldn’t sleep. You’d smile and offer to talk if he wanted - and usually he’d reject the offer, insisting he’d be fine. The first time he opened up to you was during winter break, when he ended up spending the weeks almost entirely at your house. Maybe that had been the turning point. Where Rich would open up to you, making vague comments about regrets turn into him reaching out, even the smallest bit, and letting you in. Where Rich would sometimes find your hand as intertwine his fingers with your own, not saying a word because you were an anchor when thoughts of what he did and who he was started to bother him. Where Rich would stand next to you, inches shorter but quietly resting a hand at your hip, or the way he’d rest a hand on your arm as he pulled up something on his phone to show you, or maybe how he’d oh-so-casually rest an arm around you.

       The group noticed. Sometimes there’d be a movie night and Rich would preserve the spot next to him - whether it be on the floor or couch - just for you. You left the room once to grab another drink, only to hear the sound of Jeremy crying out seconds later and the sound of the group immediately either laughing or giving Jeremy shit because “dude, that’s [y/n]’s spot, rich isn’t gonna let you sit there, why’d you even try” and you fumbled with the can of soda at the thought of Rich actually keeping your spot. The group noticed how the two of you were constantly touching in some way, whether it be you slipping your hand into Rich’s, or the fact that Rich would rest a hand at your hip and you didn’t bat an eye at that, or the fact that sometimes you’d kind of just snuggle into Rich whenever he’d wrap an arm around you.

       And apparently, Rich had this whole love-struck look whenever he looked at you, according to Christine. He’d just sometimes watch you as you wrote or doodled or focused on anything, sometimes forgetting about what he was doing before smiling a little. He just stared at your lips, drumming his fingers impatiently against his leg.

       And then one day, he just kissed you. You’d slipped your hand into his after your last class, rambling on about some homework or something, and when you turned around he just went for it - smashing his lips against yours awkwardly, cutting off your thoughts before pulling away. For a few moments, the two of you stood there, before you gently squeezed his hand and stumbled over your words, trying to resume what you’d been saying only to end up asking if he wanted to go out sometime.

       He did. So you went to the mall and ended up making out behind a clothing rack.

       Honestly, it was pretty great.

       Even if someone (i.e. a certain Jakey D) saw and got a shitty picture form afar, and somehow said picture ended up in the group chat barely five minutes later, and there was no mercy in teasing you and Rich.

       It was still worth it.

      “Babe,” Rich complained, sitting on your bed as he watched you pack. “Why do you have to leave?”

       Apparently, your mothers made the plan to go visit family on prom weekend. You tried to get out of it at first, saying you were responsible and you could drive them to the airport and stay home - but that idea was shot down since they knew about you and Rich and you haven’t seen your aunt or your cousins in a while. The timing was terrible, but you frowned and stopped complaining. You told Rich, who was disappointed because you two could have fucking wrecked prom - his words, not yours - but shrugged. You jokingly said he could take Michael, and next thing you knew you had a text from Michael asking why Rich asked him to prom and not you.

      “Family thing.”

      “Why?” He asked.

       You shrugged. “Couldn’t wait? I dunno. Have fun at prom, alright? We have next year. Or you could hide in my luggage - you’d fit.”

       “Shut up,” he mumbled through a badly suppressed smile.

      “Make me.”

       So he kissed you. His hands were cupping your face at first, and you kind of stumbled into your bed, awkward at first before sort of melting into the kiss. 

      “Rich-” kiss “I still-” kiss “need to pack-”

      He frowned as he pulled away.

      “Just let me finish, then... we can pick back up where we left off.”

       You never thought you’d have the whole pull away from each other and act like you weren’t just making out moment that you saw on TV, but... you could check that off of your bucket list. Thankfully, it had only been Sam. Which didn’t mean you didn’t get shit for it, but it was better than anyone else walking in on you.

       Rich looked cute in a tux. Michael looked cute in a tux. All your friends looked cute in prom attire and you were sitting in your aunt’s living room in shorts and a t-shirt as you cursed Florida. One of your cousins was leaning against you, curiously peeking over your arm at the stream of hearts you were sending Rich.

      “Is that your boyfriend?” She teased, smiling up at you.

       ... Were you and Rich technically dating? You shoved the thought back. “Yeah.”

      “Is he your soulmate?”

      “Yeah.”

       She gasped softly, “wait, really? You met your soulmate?” She was grinning ear to ear.

      “Yeah, Bee.”

      “Do you love him?”

      Did you? How do you answer a kid like this? You kind of smiled as you sent him a text to have fun and b safe after adding on another heart. “I think so.”

      rich: love you

     “Does he love you?”

      [y/n]: love u too 💗

     “Yeah. I think he does.”

      She looked at you with that childhood innocence. The sort of look - as if you were a fairy tale to her. “Are you two gonna get married?”

      God, that was a thought. “I don’t know.”

      You were tempted to text him again - asking him what you two were. Were you two officially dating? But you decided against it. It was prom night and the two of you could talk later.

      You still sent him a text later - two in the morning later, but still later. It was simple and short, but it was still something.

      [y/n]: i love you. i’m glad it’s you.❤️

      You put your phone on the table nearby, shifting uncomfortable on the couch - where you had volunteered to sleep after letting Sam take the guest room, since sneaking into the kitchen to steal a cookie that your uncle made was a thousand times easier when you didn’t have to sneak down stairs that creaked no matter where you stepped.

      Your phone buzzed to life after a few minutes of near silence. You moved, picking up your phone and clicking it on.

      rich: i love you too

#bean writes things #be more chill #be more chill reader insert #be more chill x reader #bmc #bmc reader insert #bmc x reader #rich goranski x reader #rich goranski #the real stars of this were charlotte and joanne btw..... #(u get a gold star if u happen to recognize the names) #thats an ending. #i did it mom. are u proud. #im just gonna write a sequel but its not even reader and rich its just charlotte and joanne being cute with reader n rich in the bg

[regalgorgon]

Story time: Dylinial wasn’t always my main. I had a mage and a paladin, one named Testra, the other Kalieya. I was known on private RP servers as those names too. Testracles and Kaliekins. I was super young, Testracles was a nickname given to me as well as Kaliekins. I just rolled with it.

(Below is a summed recount of what I could muster from a couple years ago. It’s all accurate to what was told to me and what I experienced, just some parts omitted to protect people that likely don’t want to be involved or I am unsure of their involvement. Can take with a grain of salt, but I felt the need to explain why there’s no screenshots. This is to expand upon this post in case anyone had any questions or confused http://dylibird.tumblr.com/post/160779694743/just-a-forewarning-while-youre-all-shouting-and)

But I RPed on retail WoW too. Met a guy named Jajo, he played on the same private servers and was entwined with the same group of people I involved myself with. Gosh, nostalgia. Like I rolled around with people like Xinthalore, Mistiahnna (Mistiahnna was the original creator of the last name Venomrose and we RPed as sisters because of how close we were OOC), Zanacran (the dude that lied about his age), and some other names that aren’t really relevant I guess. Some were older men trying to groom me/date me while full knowing I was underage, but you know, there’s no proof other than the constant nude Skype calls sooooooooo.. sorry I don’t have proof of them asking for my underage tiddy?

So this whole “you’re mature if you want to be mature/you’re more mature than your age” culture was fucking RAMPANT in this part of the community. Slight tangent aside, anyway, Jajo and I got close. We started dating. This didn’t sit well with Jesenia, or at least that’s what he told me. She’s been known to do some pretty nasty shit that’s her own personal business and not relevant, but she’s pretty fucked up in all sense of the term. His whole goal was to get back at her, to hurt her, and inadvertently would use me and hurt me by “doing her bidding” so to speak by going into Skype calls with her and ignoring me and attacking me- he and I are good, we’re friends now. But the shit he had to do and the shit she wanted him to do was just off the charts driving me nuts and harmful to me. 

Then he tells me her whole endgame was to hurt me so she could hurt Mistiahnna, or to get to Mistiahnna for some.. weird, alpha female “only I can date underage people” attitude I guess? Because there was a few people in her life that would hit on Misti constantly, regardless of her being.. barely 14? practically 15? I think I was the eldest in the whole group, I was either 16 going on 17, or freshly 17. I was living with my dad and grandparents at the time, during my Senior year in High School. I remember some of  these events because they happened at my grandparents’ house and I’d be on the floor with my laptop crying and hiding for several hours.

But anyway, she was my boogeyman. I had to get away from her. I had no money for a transfer or a faction change, so I made a new character on the opposing faction named Dylinnial. A night elf rogue. Jajo made a character with me to help me cope and get away from all that toxicity. Hell I still remember questing in Vashj’ir when he and I would send one another messages over bnet, about how terrible he felt for what he helped put me through. Shit was so fucked up. Because not only did I have to deal with Jesenia, but the friends she took from me and poisoned to where one event told me how shameful and slutty it was that I would “spread eagle” for guys on the internet. Okay, sure, shame a teenager and not the older guys asking for it. I wanted attention, I got it, and they were fully aware of my age and didn’t think they’d get any flack for it because of how WrA at that time fostered this pedophile culture and my friendship group was kind of a victim to it (like Jesenia’s ex/current/I don’t even know what he was to her during then hitting on Misti and I before all of this even went down and denying he ever did). Jesenia just wanted the alpha female role and would attack, manipulate, and harass the women in the lives of the men she wanted, or bully the teenage women so she could manipulate the teen boys and one happened to be my friend. And he even told me she would flirt. 

After a pretty decently long period of time, I was dating some guy. I was 18 during this time now, he would visit. We’d go to hotels or when my dad wasn’t home, we’d be at my dad’s. I was back Horde already, and I had Dylinial and joined a House guild and that’s how I met this guy. Was barely 4 hours away, and he was willing to make the drive. Our relationship was amazing until I became too toxic for him and I don’t blame him for cutting me loose. But apparently word had spread to Jesenia, or at least someone that gave a shit about how vicious she was to me and apparently I was being talked about in Trade Chat. It was really weird? Someone wanted to know where I was apparently, and something that popped up was my relationship I just mentioned. It boggled my mind how anyone could know that, let alone who my new character was. But the list was: I was banging someone nonstop (the true one), I killed myself (seriously, that wasn’t okay whoever said it), and that I quit WoW. It was so fucking uncomfortable knowing they were talking about my fate. They didn’t have a right to, but it happened. But no one could confirm if it was Jesenia or not, but I know it was a byproduct of that shit she put me through. Was either herself or someone in that circle that wanted to know.

So I abandoned Testra and Kalieya pretty much. Or tried to. I couldn’t sum up the courage to RP them. Dylinial was the new me, the me that got away from the crazy pants predator. Though I still keep in contact with the people that were in my age group and we all RPed together. Like Xinthalore was Kalieya’s bodyguard and they had a child in RP, Mistiahnna is Dylinial’s sister, Jajo hasn’t really had an interest in WoW that stuck for quite a few years- speaking of...

This was 6 years ago, or roughly between 5-6 years ago. Why the hell would I hold screenshots for that long? I don’t even have the same machine, let alone one that kept the screenshots. I can sure as shit dig though, but it’s not going to prove much. So you can either believe this and add your own experience, or you could ignore it. I’ve posted about this stuff before, just here’s a recent refresh I guess. Could compare what I said a few years ago to now, if you wanted.

#my dirty laundry #the darker days of my rp experiences #stuff i usually forget about #but it doesn't exist without proof #this shit is why i am so protective of teenagers #i do not want them exposed to this kind of shitty culture #i want to protect them #long post

[destieldrabblesdaily]

In which Dean Winchester watches that show about ice skating because Charlie keeps bugging him about it, and Cas tags along.  ---

"Oh look, they kissed. I was right after all, Dean." "Jesus, Cas! That wasn't a kiss, it was just a very dedicated hug, they were hugging."

Admittedly, the only reason Dean Winchester started watching that random anime that included ice skating, was because Charlie Bradbury -the sister he never wanted, but totally adored-, kept endlessly bugging him about it. Claiming that it had changed her life, or whatever. Begging Dean to watch it too so that they could geek out over it together, because she needed a buddy to fangirl with, doh.

It wasn't Dean's usual genre at all, but on a rainy Sunday afternoon when the bunker was quiet and boredom took over, he gave in and decided to give it a try. If only to make his friend happy, or to see what the fuss was all about.

He made himself comfortable on his bed, balancing his laptop on his legs, clicking on the first episode, rather skeptical when a cheesy song started playing as the intro began.

"What the-?" He sputtered to himself, but kept watching anyway.

Twenty minutes later, he understood, kinda. The show was strangely addictive. There was some humor, the main character was easy to relate to, and at some point Dean had a brief flashback to how he'd felt that one time when Gabriel let him believe that he was meeting his idol Doctor Sexy. Not to mention the other side of it all; the constant fear to fail or never being enough for anyone or anything.

He was about to eagerly click episode two, when a gentle knock on his door interrupted him, and Castiel walked in without waiting for a reply.

"Heya, Cas!" Dean greeted amiably, not bothered by it in the slightest; the personal space between them had gone out of the window altogether now that Cas was living in the bunker too. "Joining team bored?" He added, already scooting over to make room for the angel.

"So it would seem." Castiel nodded, giving Dean an almost-smile as he sat down on the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes. "Or perhaps I just like spending time with you."

Dean ducked his head to hide his blush as Cas made himself at home on Dean's bed, right there beside Dean, their shoulders firmly pressed together.

"What are we watching?" Castiel asked as Dean clicked 'play'.

Dean chuckled, glancing sideways at his friend. "Apparently something that Charlie's going crazy over, you'll probably earn bonus points with her when you casually mention that you've watched it, too."

There was unmistakable recognition in the blue eyes that gazed back at Dean, as if something was clicking in Castiel's brain. "Ah, I see, it's the ice skating show, isn't it? She's been pushing me about it for quite some time now, but I never got around to watching it." He admitted, his tone fond.

"Yeah, that's the one." Dean huffed a laugh, because of-freaking-course Charlie would throw her obsessions at literally everyone she knew.

Either way, they watched, and watched. Not saying much, but both agreeing that it was good enough to keep watching. It was in the middle of episode six that Castiel made a sudden remark, catching Dean off guard.

"Dean, I think the Russian man and the Japanese man have feelings for each other."

Dean all but choked on his own tongue, because what on earth was Cas talking about?

He told the angel just that. "What the hell, Cas? They're close friends? Can't two dudes be on good terms with each other these days without everyone thinking there's something  going on between them?"

When he peeked at Cas, Castiel was frowning in what looked to be confusion, but didn't respond.

Shrugging it off, Dean pressed play again.

They made it to the end of episode seven, and Dean froze in place as Cas shared another thought.

"Oh look, they kissed. I was right after all, Dean."

"Jesus, Cas! That wasn't a kiss, it was just a very dedicated hug, they were hugging."

He'd blurted out the defense without thinking, but deep down he wasn't all that sure anymore. Because what was all that talk about love? Besides, that Viktor guy was pretty touchy-feely; if previously Dean had thought that Cas had personal space issues, this guy would take the cake for sure. But wasn't that merely a Russian thing? Having never properly met anyone from Russia, Dean had to accept that he didn't know enough about cultural differences to be a good judge here.

They kept watching, Dean's shoulders a bit more tense, even though Castiel seemed perfectly calm and at ease.

It was Dean who felt his heart throb in the middle of episode ten when rings were exchanged. He'd seen enough shows and movies to realize that the setting was a romantic one; that was no friendship ring. When he discreetly turned his head to see Castiel's reaction, there was no denying that the angel looked tremendously pleased with himself. Dean resisted the urge to groan out loud. That stupid know-it-all.

They both remained quiet during the final two episodes, and Dean gruffly ignored how his eyes were stinging when not one but two figures gracefully danced on the ice near the very end.

When the screen turned black, he swallowed the lump in his throat. He carefully set the laptop aside, then shifted to face Cas. Castiel was already observing him, patient as always, waiting for his reaction. Dean's heart fluttered at how close they still were.

"Gotta give it to Charlie... That was... that was not bad." He mumbled eventually, offering Cas a tentative smile.

Castiel smiled back without missing a beat. "Yes... That was very interesting."

"Yeah..." Dean agreed again. And that was when his brain to mouth filter decided to bail on him. "That Yuuri dude is hella lucky, huh?"

Dean chewed his bottom lip, silently cursing himself, but he didn't break his eye contact with Cas, trapped by the intensity of Cas' stare. He could feel Castiel's warm breath on his face; they were that close.

"I'd say that he is." Castiel replied nonchalantly, the smile on his face never wavering. "But if you ask me, Viktor is lucky, too."

And that was it. Dean couldn't possibly be reading this wrong, could he? He'd just been too blind to see it at first, but it was definitely there, and it was definitely not just Dean. In hindsight, Cas might have been dropping anvil sized hints, actually.

Carefully, experimentally, Dean bumped his nose against Castiel's, letting one of his hands cup Castiel's jaw. Cas' eyes fluttered, long lashes brushing his cheekbones, but he didn't object.

Their first kiss was everything that Dean had expected, and better. Considering the many times that he'd thought about feeling those lips on his, none of it could beat reality. They kissed and kissed, until they ended up in a position where Cas had pressed Dean back against the mattress, their hands intertwined, Castiel staring down at Dean in mild surprise when they broke the kiss to catch their breath.

All Dean could do was grin like an idiot, and Cas' expression soon mirrored Dean's.

"So..." Castiel murmured as Dean gazed up at him in wonder, scolding himself for not doing this sooner. "If you don't mind me asking, was that a kiss? Or a dedicated hug?"

Dean glared daggers at Cas as he grabbed both Castiel's wrists to flips them over, pinning that know-it-all angel to the mattress instead, determined to kiss that feigned innocence off of his face without mercy.

                                                             ~

Later that night, Dean texted Charlie.

'Guess you weren't wrong after all, that ice skating stuff that you're into kinda changed my life.'

#drabbles: mine #destiel #whelvenwings #castiels-playdoll #elizabethrobertajones #whothefuckiscas #thebloggerbloggerfun #castihalo #tagging y'all because you're also in this trashcan #canon!verse #fluff #first kiss #friends to lovers

[fifteenstrawberries]

Surely Someday

So, once upon a time, I had an idea for a music au. and, well . . . 

Also please please check out the song in the description, you will not regret it, I promise.

Surely Someday

Modern college/ jazz band au. Title and the lyrics at the end come from “Because” by Yoko Kanno. Which is emphatically Not Jazz, but it worked so well I couldn’t help it. The legendary jazz quintet, Voltron, of Altea University, started out as just Hunk and Lance jamming out in an empty music room. They would get back from their afternoon classes, grab Lance's trumpet and Hunk's bass from the orchestra room lockers, then find a good space and chill for an hour or so, unwinding from the stress of the day. They never set out to play anything specific-- Lance liked to improvise and Hunk was good at riffing off his notes, but by the time Pidge found them, they'd practiced enough songs for a pretty decent length set.

Pidge-- better known as Katie Holt to everyone but Hunk and Lance-- was one of those child musical genius prodigy types, who came to the university for classes and was on track to graduate early with a degree in music composition. She took lessons for five different instruments (only piano was required for her degree, the rest were just for fun) and had apparently never heard of improv jazz before in her life. She had burst into their practice room and demanded to know what exactly they were doing, that chord would work much better if you raised the bass line by a half step, and could they please decide whether they were playing in four/four time or not? Her brother had dragged her out, apologizing profusely, as Katie shouted back questions, wanting to know if they actually knew how to play their instruments because that would explain a lot, really.

Needless to say, they kept her.

It was just the three of them for the first few weeks. And that was good! Pidge kept bringing different instruments to their jam sessions and had a knack for harmonizing, and kept bringing new music for them to play, either her favorite songs arranged for trumpet, bass, and clarinet, or pieces that she'd written for her music composition class with Professor Coran. They even performed during the Homecoming concert as 'the Voltron Jazz trio.'

"Which is why," Lance argued, as Hunk stapled another 'looking for player' notice on the student board, "We don't need another player. Jazz trios are a thing, dude."

"Jazz quartets are also a thing," Hunk gave him an amused look, "It'll be nice to have another person to play with. Besides, we're getting to the point where we could really use a decent drummer."

"Oh no. The legendary Voltron jazz trio does not need a drummer."

"Do you want to give Pidge an excuse to bring her metronome again?"

Lance shuddered. That practice had been a nightmare and didn't bear remembering.

"Exactly," Hunk said grimly. "The only way we're going to keep her from bringing that monstrosity again is if we put someone on drums." He stapled the next flier to the cafeteria message board with unnecessary force, muttering to himself, "Bringing a metronome to jazz practice, honestly . . . ."

Lance patted his shoulder in silent, sympathetic commiseration.

In the end, only one person got in touch with them. Hunk refused to tell Lance who it was, and it wasn't until Lance saw a familiar mullet sitting at a table at the student café, waiting to meet them, that he understood why.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Lance hissed, clutching at Hunk's arm.

"Nope."

"Keith? Really? Keith?!"

"He's the only one that responded and he's good, Lance, don't you dare ruin this because of that one thing when you were a freshman."

"It was marching band! Do you know how cool I would've been if I'd gotten into marching band?"

Pidge rolled her eyes at their whispered argument, pulling the café door open, "Hey," she said, walking up to Keith, "Are you here for us?"

Keith blinked at her, "I think so. Are you guys the--" He consulted one of Hunk's fliers, now wrinkled almost beyond recognition, "Voltron jazz ensemble?"

"That's us," Hunk said agreeably, pulling up a chair.

Lance flung himself into the chair opposite Keith, who eyed him uncertainly. "So, Keith," Lance drawled, "Since when were you interested in jazz?"

"I'm not, really," Keith shrugged, "But I need another extracurricular if I'm going to keep my scholarship next semester and the rock band I was going to join fell through."

"Lucky for us then," Hunk noted, ignoring the strangled sound Lance was making, "You said you play drums, right?"

"For the past ten years."

"Cool. I play bass, Pidge here plays either clarinet or saxophone depending, and you know that Lance plays trumpet."

 “Ummm . . . .”

Lance could actually see the moment where Keith failed to remember how he had ruined Lance's life.

No. No nononono no no nope, Lance refused to play with a guy who didn't even have the decency to remember his part in one of the more humiliating moments in Lance's life. Keith wasn't getting into Voltron. Period.

But Hunk might actually kill him if he just stood up and walked away, so Lance needed to figure out a way to dispose of Keith subtly . . . .

His eyes lit on Pidge.

Perfect.

"You the only person who replied to the flier," Hunk was saying.

"But we have a minor in our group," Lance interrupted, ignoring the strange looks all three were giving him, "So Pidge gets a final say in who joins."

There, Lance thought smugly. Keith looked nervous as Pidge inspected him over the top of her glasses. Hunk couldn't even give him a hard time about it, they'd already agreed that they would defer to Pidge's judgement since she was the closest thing they had to a conductor. And Pidge had ridiculously high standards when it came to the people she played with so there was no way she'd ever, ever--

"Keith can stay." Pidge said.

"Oh, cool," Hunk said, as Lance gaped, "Keith you heard her, you're in."

"Why?!" Lance exclaimed, staring at Pidge in betrayal.

Pidge pushed up her glasses, "He can play the percussion piece I composed."

Hunk and Lance paused.

"The one you brought in last week?" Hunk ventured.

"The one you wrote specifically to be physically impossible to play?" Lance yelped.

They both turned to Keith, who shrugged. "It was pretty challenging." He admitted.

Hunk and Lance exchanged long, speaking looks.

"Fine," Lance sighed, at the end of their silent conversation, "Keith," He paused, then said begrudgingly, "Welcome to Voltron."

Keith grinned.

"Do you have some time right now?" Hunk asked, as Pidge offered Keith a high five, "We're going to find a practice room to jam in. You can come and get a feel for how we play together."

"Yeah, sounds good." Keith nodded, still smiling faintly, and stood up.

"You're in charge of whatever sticks or tambourines or whatever you need to play." Lance told him, "Don't expect us to help you lug around your equipment. It's every man for himself."

Pidge cleared her throat pointedly.

"Every person for themselves." Lance amended.

"I . . . wasn't expecting you to?" Keith was frowning again, confused.

"Ignore him Keith, he's just mad that you don't remember him." Hunk said, holding the door open for everyone to walk outside.

"Oh," Keith gave Lance another confused look, "Sorry?"

Lance seethed.

Ten minutes later, walking through the halls toward the practice room, Keith stopped dead, "Wait, Lance, weren't you the guy who sent like five people to the hospital during marching band auditions?"

"Minor injuries, only three people, and it was your fault!"

"That's why you've been giving me a hard time? How was it my fault that you tripped over your own feet?!"

"I was distracted by your mullet!" _____________________________________________________________________________

Practices got a lot more . . . intense, after Keith joined--

("Keith, can you at least try to stay on the beat?"

"It's called syncopation, Lance, I know you know what that is.")

--But even Lance could admit that they were better with him than without.

Lance and Hunk finally got the paperwork together to get their little band registered as an official club so Keith could list it on his transcript. They played at the November Thanksgiving concert, the Christmas concert, the faculty holiday party . . . . Miss Allura, who planned college events on top of being Pidge's piano teacher, booked them for like three different alumni parties, telling them that since they were playing anyway, they might as well get paid for it. Things settled into a new kind of normal.

Until one day in early spring when Keith pulled Lance aside, and told him that his friend was joining their next practice. "So try not to be as much of an asshole as you usually are." He said, voice tight.

Lance bristled, "Excuse you, I am not--"

"You are," Keith interrupted, "And I'm warning you now, if you rag on him the way the way you do me, I'm going to melt down your trumpet and turn it into an asshole of the year trophy."

Lance gasped, clutching his trumpet protectively to his chest as Keith turned on his heel and left.

 He spent the rest of the night complaining to Hunk. How dare Keith threaten his trumpet! Would Keith deny the world the sweet music Lance made, over perfectly valid criticisms of his hair, and fashion sense, and ability to stay on beat?

Then Keith's friend stepped into the music room with a shock of white hair and tired eyes, the lower half of his right sleeve hanging empty, and yeah, Lance could see how even the good-natured teasing he indulged in might be out of place here.

Takashi Shirogane. Piano virtuoso and Altea University alumnus extraordinaire. The gift shop still sold recordings of his Carnegie Hall piano concert.

While Lance was standing there tongue tied, Hunk set his bass on its stand and walked over, left hand extended, "You must be the friend Keith was telling us about." He grinned, "I'm Hunk."

"Takashi Shirogane. Call me Shiro, please." Shiro shook his hand with a warm flicker of a smile.

"Good to meet you," Hunk said easily, "The tiny one with three different instruments is Pidge—“

 Pidge waved from where she was putting together her clarinet.

 “—and the guy emptying his spit valve on the carpet like a heathen is my friend Lance. He's the one that got this whole crazy thing started."

"Glad you could join us," Lance said, trying for nonchalant because holy shit, was Takashi Shirogane really going to play with them?? "So do you wanna practice with us or . . . ?" Wait, missing arm, shit.

Hovering at his friend's elbow, Keith's expression went from resting bitch-face to murderous.

The quirk in Shiro's smile was the only indication that he'd noticed Lance's faux pas. "Nah. I don't want to mess you up. Keith tells me you do a lot of improv."

"Oh, improv's not hard," Lance assured him, "Lots of people think that it is, but really, just pick a chord and a key and go from there. You could probably do it with one hand tied behind--" God dammit, if Keith wanted to kick his ass later, Lance was going to let him.

After a long pause where Lance tried to ascend to the astral plane and Keith tried to kill Lance with his brain— Hunk was standing with his eyes raised to the ceiling, hands pressed together in front of his mouth like he was praying-- Pidge said, "You are the living embodiment of tact, Lance."

"Thanks for the salt Pidge, makes the shoe leather taste much better."

Shiro laughed. “It’s okay, really.”

Huh. Maybe Lance could hold off on suicide by Keith after all.

"Seriously though," Pidge added, glancing at Shiro, "You're just going to sit and listen to us?"

Shiro’s smile turned wry, and he shrugged. The movement made the empty part of his sleeve sway.

Keith hesitated, unhappy, "Shiro--"

"It's fine," Shiro interrupted. He nudged Keith in the direction of the drum set, pulling out a chair for himself at the edge of the room, "Do your thing. Just pretend I'm not here."

Lance caught a glimpse of Keith as he walked past . . . .

"Hey Shiro" Lance said suddenly, "Can you sing?"

Shiro paused with his hand on the back of the chair, taken by surprise, "What?"

"Pidge has been working on some stuff with vocals," Lance nodded at her, "Right Pidge?"

"Oh yeah!" Pidge dove for her backpack, pulling out a pile of sheet music, "It started out as an exercise for my music composition class, but it turned out to be really fun, so I kept going."

Shiro blinked at the music she shoved into his hands, "Fall Out Boy?"

"Arranged for jazz band." Pidge agreed, "Now come on, get over here so we can hear you."

"I'm not really a singer," Shiro protested, pulling his chair over slowly.

"Can you carry a tune in a bucket?" Lance asked, arranging his music on his stand.

"Yes?"

"Then you can sing. It's fine man, it's jazz," Lance flashed him a smile, then turned to the rest of the group, "Let's get started. Pidge, Hunk, you all tuned up?"

"Of course." Pidge sniffed at him, picking up her clarinet and playing a short C major. Hunk plucked his strings a couple more times, then gave Lance a thumbs up.

"Keith, we've actually got someone singing with us today. Try not to drown us out the way you usually do."

Keith rolled his eyes, "Right back at ya, buddy."

Lance sneered elegantly at him, then turned to Shiro, "If you get lost, just keep an eye on Hunk, he’ll cue you in. And remember, if you mess up, blame Pidge."

"Hey!" Pidge squawked.

"I can read this sheet music woman! When exactly am I supposed to breath?"

"You talk that long without breathing all the time, you'll be fine."

"Ha. Ha. Everyone all set?" Lance glanced around. Pidge was rolling her eyes at him, Hunk was snickering, Shiro was trying to hide a bemused smile, and Keith kept stealing glances at Shiro.

Lance had never seen that expression on Keith's face before.

"We're ready," Lance decided, "On my count. A-five six seven eight!" _____________________________________________________________________________

They had been good before. But after Shiro joined, something locked into place, and now they were on their way to becoming great.

Shiro had a beautiful, strong tenor, and was surprisingly good at singing the blues for someone who had never studied jazz before. (Which was Not To Be Commented On.)

 It took them a while to convince him to come to practice. He kept trying to bow out, saying that he didn’t want to disrupt their practice, or that he wasn’t a good enough singer, or that he was too old, they couldn’t possibly want him around--

 (Pidge rolled her eyes, “Dude, just shut up and sing with us.”

 “It’s a little hard to do both.” Shiro said drily.)

 But once they’d finally managed to convince him that they didn’t care, he was took to jazz like he’d been waiting for a way to let music back into his life after . . . after. He started taking singing lessons, he audited Lance and Hunk’s music history class, he started making requests and suggestions, looking for ways for all of them to improve—

 Lance felt something warm and soft in his chest when Shiro launched into an impromptu lecture on the historical significance of Harlem jazz clubs, eyes no longer tired but shining with enthusiasm. He glanced at Keith, who was watching Shiro with the same warm, soft expression as Lance, and the two of them shared a smile.

 Shiro took over as music director, with Lance’s blessing. They had a little ceremony to transfer the tuner and everything. It was just as well, really. Shiro was much better at keeping them all in line, and with him in charge Lance could goof off with his friends instead of pretending to be responsible.

 Then Pidge set up a Youtube channel for them, they recorded a couple songs and put them up and . . . suddenly they were kinda sorta famous? People recognized them when they walked around campus now, and usually complemented them on their videos and asked when were they going to put up the next one. Miss Allura and Professor Coran helped them record their first album, carefully making no mention of the fact that this was Shiro’s second time doing this. After finals were over and school let out for the summer, they even got a couple gigs! Nothing too big, just a couple coffee shops in and around the tristate area and one wedding. But it was still enough to justify renting a van to take the Voltron band to their various locations.

 They turned it into a proper road trip. Mr. and Mrs. Holt drove and chose various places for them to stop and have fun, museums and parks and farmers markets. Shiro divided his attention between helping them navigate and keeping peace in the back seat, which became essential when they were forbidden from practicing in the car.

 It was different, more exciting and more stressful than anything Lance had ever done before, and he was sincerely grateful that Shiro was there to talk them down from their pre-concert jitters. Going out there, being on a stage and seeing a whole crowd of people watching . . . .

 Lance never imagined that him and Hunk jamming out in a classroom together would lead to this.

 Then it was over. They went their separate ways for the rest of the summer, promising to meet up when school started.

 Now here they were again, after the first day of classes, Hunk, Lance and Pidge with instruments in hand, and Keith twirling his drumsticks like a cheerleader’s baton, heading for the auditorium where they’d agreed to meet. None of them had heard from Shiro in the past month, but Keith promised he’d be there for practice in a couple hours. In the meantime they had an after-class jam session to get to, which was a tradition dammit, and they weren’t going to let things like an impending concert and a growing case of fame get in the way.

 Only it seemed like some one was already there. A slow melody plinked out from the baby grand on stage, and Lance craned his head to see who was playing . . . .

 That was Shiro.

 In the wings, Lance threw out a hand to stop the others, motioning for silence. Hunk clapped a hand over his mouth and Keith grabbed onto Lance’s shirt. Pidge rolled her eyes at them, but stayed quiet.

 Shiro was frowning in concentration as he picked out the notes, his eyes as tired as they had been the first time he’d come to practice with them.

 Lance couldn’t help but remember the two albums on his computer, played countless times. The piano on them had sung, the notes flowing like water, smooth and easy . . . .

 This wasn’t that.

 Stiff and clumsy, from lack of practice and the use of his non-dominant hand, the music bare without a second hand to play harmony, but he was still playing, and they would never ask for more than that—

 One of Keith’s drumsticks dropped, clattering against the ground. Shiro’s gaze flew up, eyes widening when he saw them in the wings.

 Lance tried for a grin as Hunk waved sheepishly behind him.

 Shiro flushed and looked away, his hand falling from the keyboard.

 No, dammit, that wasn’t—they hadn’t meant--

 Lance, Hunk and Keith slunk on stage, setting up and tuning their instruments guiltily.

 Pidge just stood there with her hands in her pockets, head tilted like a bird, “Why’d you stop?”

 “We’ve got a lot of work to do before our first concert,” Shiro didn’t look up, his remaining hand curled loosely in his lap, “If you’re all here we should start practice.”

 “You were already practicing though.” Pidge pointed out, frowning slightly.

 Shiro didn’t reply.

 Pidge slid onto the bench next to Shiro, picking up his hand and placing it on the keys when he didn’t move. “You take the top, I’ll take the bottom.” She told him, and started to play.

 Hunk joined in next, drawing long, slow, easy notes from his bass. Then Keith, with a soft, rolling beat on the cymbals. Lance took the descant, playing as quietly as he could.

 Then Shiro finally beginning to play again, the counterpoint to Pidge’s harmony, and all of them shifted to match.

 They played their way through the opening one more time. Shiro was smiling now, as music echoed throughout the hall.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 "Someday

Look back On a

Young day We shared

We learned We had

We lost Because

You know Tomorrow had another plan Because

We lose

The future is all we have left We have someday Surely someday Surely someday"

#strawberry writes #fanfic #voltron #music au #listening to the song is actually essential to this fic #so just put 'Because' on repeat until you finish reading #it's worth it

[pa-awesome]

Small Lies That Escalated Into “This Is My Life Now”

• Found out a coworker was from the same city I grew up in. He asked what my "old man's" last name was. Being an unmarried woman, I assumed he was asking about my father to determine if he knew my family back home. Apparently he was asking about my non existent husband, so until he quit I carried on the facade that I had a husband from back home.

• My mom gave my sister a chocolate orange about 15 years ago and she kind of embarrassed the family by saying it was gross. I didn't want to make my parents feel bad so I said that I'd eat it. It was gross but I pretended to like it. Now every year for Christmas I get a chocolate orange.

• Pretended to be a girl on World of Warcraft for a solid two years. I didn't actually set out to do it, just never corrected anyone when they assumed I was and by the time I thought to come clean it seemed too awkward.

• I convinced pretty much everyone in my life that I was allergic to coconut at a young age. I simply just didn't like it at all and it was a good way to avoid eating it (logic of a pre-teen mind). My mom played along. It wasn't until about 3 years ago when my mother in law had a surprise birthday party for her husband and she made a german chocolate cake. The kicker here: she did HALF of it coconut and half without so I could enjoy the cake and not have an allergic reaction to it. I broke down. Laughed. Told them it wasn't true and I actually am not allergic. Her face melted. I hadn't realized how long I had kept up the lie until that very moment.

• When I was 12 years old, I lied about my age and made myself older for about 3 years, so I could still be somewhat cool in WoW. Now some of my WoW friends settled over with me to other games, and whenever I meet someone new, they're likely connected to them. At this point it's too awkward to explain that I'm not the oldest, but in fact the youngest in our friendgroup.

• Told one guy i was canadian bc they asked why i apologized so much. That was in 1st grade, im now a junior in highschool and people are shocked when they find out im not canadian

• I dated a guy who's father was a minister. I liked this guy a lot. I knew their church was one of those loud, dancing talking in tongues churches and his parents asked me to come to church with them. The dad did this whole long ass sermon about premarital sex and being saved. The guy I was dating kept nudging me and his family kept smirking so when they asked who felt the Holy Spirit and wanted to be saved I walked up to the front, everyone was jumping around and people were getting popped in the forehead and going into convulsions on the floor. I pretended to feel it. They smacked my forehead, I fell back, I just laid there with a few other people on the floor with my eyes closed wondering if I should twitch or something. Afterwards everyone was hugging me and his parents were crying.....

• I was working at a small company about 10 years ago, around the holidays. It was approaching Thanksgiving, and the ladies in my department had organized a pot luck luncheon. I was adding my contribution to the sign-up sheet when I noticed that one particular co-worker had signed up to bring brownies. She was a nice, single, older woman who had many pets at home (2-3 cats and as many dogs) and was regularly covered in a layer of pet fur. The day of the party had arrived, and everyone was going around filling their plates. There they were on the dessert table - the brownies. I didn't want to eat any of them, but I also didn't want to be impolite - so I told her I couldn't have any because I was allergic to nuts. Fast forward 9 years, and I am out with a friend (who had also been a co-worker at this company) I had kept since that job. After a few drinks, I tell her, tearfully, that I have a confession to make - I'm not really allergic to nuts. She burst out laughing, thinking it was going to be something much more serious than that. She is the only person I have made this confession to.

• A dude I knew was giving this girl some shit and she kicked him in the nuts. Ok, extreme reaction, but such is life. He doubled over in pain, but since he was kind of a douche anyway, no one cared much. The next day (a Friday) his dad took him out of school for some reason. Then when he returned on Monday he learned that the big rumor was that his balls ruptured from the kick, and he had to get emergency surgery. Rather than correcting anyone, he went along with it. This went on for years. People made fun of him, and he just joked about it. There were idiotic songs people sung about him. He laughed about it. Never denied it once, in fact participated in some of the joking at times. Finally, one day about 3 years later he comes clean. She didn't even actually kick him in the balls, just in the gut and it really knocked the wind out of him. After all this time, the dude who got kicked in the balls was basically his identity. Strange turn of events.

• When I was 16, I humored some Mormon missionaries to make my best friend and his family happy (they were Mormon). So after a few home "lessons" about the LDS church I had already showed a lot of fake support and interest. Being awkward, I didn't want to admit to not being interested. When they asked if I wanted to be baptised weeks later, I said yes, imagining I'd eventually back out. I didn't. Became an athiest Mormon. After months of living this double life, attending church, etc, my mom decided to show support by becoming Mormon. I was mortified. My recovering Catholic dad pulls me aside and asks me if I really believe this stuff. I explained everything to him and he thought it was hilarious. I also made him promise not to tell Mom because, again, awkward and too far deep. She asked me to baptise her and I refused. This insulted her. Fast forward a year or so and I distanced myself from church people while still maintaining the close relationship with my friend and his family. It's been 12 years now, and we still hang out weekly and nobody considers me Mormon. I never explained this to him.

• The second or third week of college my freshman year I stumbled into a room where a newly acquired friend and his roommate were playing kingdom hearts. We briefly talked about how much they loved the game, etc. Eventually, I fall asleep on their futon from general college induced exhaustion. An indeterminable amount of time later, I wake up to them quietly talking about what to do with the person napping on the couch. Not wanting to be rude, I tell them "Oh sorry - I wasn't really napping" They call me out on my buffoonery, and I decide to double down that I WAS NOT NAPPING. We get into a pretty heated argument about what constitutes a nap and the specific things that I was doing if it were not napping. I do not back down and start essentially yelling at them that I was not napping. This grew into an uncontrollable inside joke where whenever I would go anywhere with these guys they would say something like "man, its a good thing bendernas doesn't take naps", he'll be the life of the party. Or some shit. This slowly spreads to basically everything we did (small school of ~ 3000 students, where most people had some sort of obscure connection to most other people) and I eventually became known as the person who didn't take naps. (edit: i love naps) A few years later we became roommates and the proceed to wake me up basically every single day whenever I took a nap.

• When I got out of college, I got accepted in an internship. After that internship, they hired me. When they asked about my diploma, I said the truth, that I needed a few more general classes(French and PE) to finish and get my diploma. They said: No problem, but you have to get your diploma. I said(the beginning of the lie): It's alright, I'm already registered for the classes next semester. They said: Ok but make sure you get it soon! Then never asked about it again, even after changing HR management twice since then. I've been working here for 10 years now, never went back for my diploma. I know it's stupid, but let's hope I end my career here or something.

• Living in a College Town, every year around spring graduation there's one or two "I'm here to see my kid graduate, but I haven't been able to locate them" families. Usually kids that stopped going, pocketed their parents money, and/or just gave up and couldn't handle telling the family. It ends sadly sometimes. That's a big lie/deception to deal with and maintain. It almost always comes to a head.

• My first relationship. A few days in, then-girlfriend tells me she isn't ready to go public just yet and if we could just pretend we weren't together for a few days then she would be ready. Six months later, I had lied to so many people for her I can't tell whats real anymore and any time I asked her if we could stop because it was messing with me she refused and argued her way out of it. Looking back on this fucks with my head to this day. Amazing how much things like that can snowball.

• One time someone who I wanted to be better friends with showed me a metal gear solid meme and me being me I pretended to understand it. I then was forced to research all the games and their plots, Easter eggs, quotable characters, and other memes to better fake understanding. I still have never played a metal gear solid game.

• My fiance has a great one. She's a picky eater, and rather than tell her best friend that she doesn't like bananas, she told her "I'm allergic to bananas." For YEARS, her best friend would make sure everything was banana-free. From cakes, to desserts, to even clearing her house of anything banana related. After close to 15 years, my fiance finally told her "Hey, I just don't like bananas." Nervous, thinly veiled hatred in the form of laughter ensued.

• One teacher at school said my name wrong and I was too anxious to correct him. Long story short it’s almost been a year and I’m in too deep to say anything else.

• I live in Cambridge, UK and my go to answer to those "interesting-facts-about-you" moments (you know, corporate icebreakers or interview stuff) is that I got knocked over by Stephen Hawking whilst on the pavement near my house. Partly true as in he lives in the city, travels out and about on said streets. Truth is I just saw him on a path once. I was driving. People love that it's a bit different so imma keep using it.

• A buddy of mine's dad had a funny ongoing joke of sometimes referring to his son's friends by similar, but incorrect names. Trent became Trevor, Scott became Sam, Ethan became Eric. Just silly stuff like that. So in that vein he starts calling me 'Donald' (jesse is my middle name, my first one starts with 'D'). At first I thought he was joking, but he just. Didn't. Stop. Its been years, and now that we're all moved out and on our own I rarely ever see him. But he still calls me Donald whenever I do, and at this point its way too late to correct him.

• This is a small thing, I don't go by my full name but when I sign up for classes at my gym, it's done through an app and shows up on the roster as my full name. I never thought that anyone there would eventually know me by name, so when the instructor would take attendance I just never corrected in. But now I'm a year in and I'm casually friendly with most people there and I'm in way too deep to correct them now. It's not that I mind my full name that much, I have just never really gone by it.

#repost #liar #lies #story