#like keep in mind I have a fucking voicemail from her so I’m like wtf

[sunny-daysss]

Why are people so mean for no reason :/

#sunny speaks #vent #like #I called a number thinking it was someone trying to get in contact about something cuz I have been sorting out some stuff #and I misread my missed calls and thought they were from the same number #so I called one of them and this lady picks up and asks for my name #she hangs up after I tell her and sends a text accusing me of prank calling her and that I should’ve ‘at least made my number private’ #like keep in mind I have a fucking voicemail from her so I’m like wtf #anyways I listened to it and it was some tts scam caller thing so I think her number got spoofed #it’s my bad for calling random numbers without listening to the voicemail first #but jeez I don’t think I sounded like I was prank calling her #like I said I had a missed call from her #and like ofc my number isn’t private because IM NOT PRANK CALLING ANYONE #my god #anyways #I hate people

[not-a-space-alien]

Watch Your Step: Chapter 6: Heterospecific Interactions

Masterpost link

AO3 link

Chapter 6!  As usual thanks to @appelsiinilight and @static-stars!  Usual content warnings for chapter--little guys in distress, T rating, etc.  Just 2.5k words for this one!

After consoling her crying undergrads, Marcy worked through the spiders very quickly, eager to get back.  Her mind raced in every possible direction imagining what could happen to Thistle by himself.  There were several times she realized she had tried to feed the same spider multiple times based on muscle memory alone, her mind a million miles away.

There were a few other matters as well, a few other people coming to bother her about some deadline coming up.  She told them whatever it took to get them to leave her alone so she could finish the bare minimum it would take to keep anything from catching on fire.

She ended up getting out of there at 4PM, well ahead of schedule and with plenty of time to spare before sunset.

Marcy did not have cell service in most of the lab.  It was in the basement, and there were no windows.  So as soon she stepped out of the building towards her car, her phone blew up immediately with about a dozen missed calls from both Teddy and Colin.  There were also many text messages.  The ones from Teddy were along the lines of:

Hey when are you coming home?

Come home as soon as you can

Come home NOW

Answer your phone!!!!!! wtf!!!!

The ones from Colin read more like:

Bro wtf

Bro come home

Bro what

Marcy what the fuCK????

Marcy??? Come home??

Marcy’s stomach dropped.  She couldn’t bring herself to listen to any of the voicemails they had left.

She hurried back to her car.  Blessed once again with missing rush hour traffic, she made it home in a new record time.  Practically sprinting up to the porch, she banged the front door open and failed to shut it behind her.

Oblivious to the tension, Mochi trotted around behind her, wanting to be where the action was.

Marcy swung the corner into the living room to see Teddy and Colin sitting on the couch.  On the table in front of them was a jar, and inside it was Thistle, hugging his knees to his chest, tear-stained face buried in his arms.

Despite the fact that she’d done the exact same thing the first time she’d met Thistle, the sight filled her with explosive anger.  “What did you do that for?”

Upon hearing her voice, Thistle roused, kneeling and putting his hands on the glass, looking at her pleadingly.  He watched the three giants argue with rising anger in their voices, only catching snatches of what they were saying, muffled through the container.

He was worried because despite whatever Marcy may want, she was outnumbered and, by the way the other two seemed to have some authority over her, outranked as well.  She’d been nice to him for the most part, but it was another matter entirely whether she wanted to risk herself to extricate him from the situation.  If they decided he had to go, or something worse--Marcy might have to do it.

Teddy got up and moved to intercept Marcy as she headed for the jar.  “We found something really weird, Marcy, really weird, and guess what!  It knew your name!  Isn’t that weird?”

“Let him out!” Marcy said, trying to reach around Teddy for the table.

Teddy held her hands out, stopping Marcy.  “You brought this into our house without telling us, didn’t you?  That’s why you’ve been locked in your room this whole time and brushing me off.”

“What is it, Marcy?” said Colin, who hadn’t gotten up from the couch.  “A fairy?”

“Give him back!”

“You did!  You brought it into our house!  Marcy, what if--what if it’s magic, what if it curses us?  You didn’t think we’d want to know about that?”

“It’s not--he’s not--”

“Why did you--Such a stupid--”

Marcy suppressed the urge to physically fight Teddy to get past her.  “Who cares--give him back!”

“I care, Marcy!”  She reached out and gave Marcy a little shove.  “You asshole!”

“Okay!” Marcy cried.  “I’m an asshole!  I’m sorry!  Just stop shouting!  You’re scaring him!”

Teddy furrowed her brows, as though she hadn’t considered the possibility.  Her eyes flickered over to the jar, where Thistle was kneeling, hugging his arms around himself, watching them with scared, watery eyes.

Marcy reached around her and snatched the jar off the table, clutching it to her chest and stomping out of the room.

She went up the stairs almost too angry to think.  Thistle’s little voice was barely audible, muffled by the glass and speaking in snatches of his own language and hers.

The door to her bedroom was open.  Of course it was open.  She went in and closed it behind her.  The door had no lock, but she kept the jar in one hand and used the other to grab her desk chair and jam it under the doorknob.

Marcy walked over to the bed and knelt, unscrewing the lid and upending the jar to dump Thistle onto the comforter.  It was only when he tumbled ungracefully face-first into the bed did Marcy realize she should have just slowly inverted the jar and let him step out himself.

He righted himself, fluttering, looking harried and upset.  Marcy scooped her hands under him, and he clung to her finger.

“I’m sorry,” said Marcy.  “Are you okay?”

“It’s okay.”  His voice warbled in a way that suggested it was anything but okay.

She saw the edge of a bruise on his calf, and used her thumb to push his pant leg up a little.  There was a bruise blossoming on his leg, almost up to his knee.

“What is this?” she gasped.

Thistle hesitantly held his hand up and made a pinching motion.

“I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.”  She held him close to her chest.  “It’s okay now.”

Marcy heard Teddy’s and Colin’s voices muffled from outside her bedroom door, followed by a hesitant knock.  Thistle darted out of her hand and bolted under the comforter.

Clenching her hands, Marcy left him and went to the door.

“Marcy, can you open the door?  Please?”

Marcy removed the chair and pulled the door open.  She kept one hand on the knob and blocked the gap with her body.  “Why did you do that?” she growled.  “You hurt him.”

“What?” said Colin.

“His leg.  You hurt his leg.”

Colin looked ashamed.  “I didn’t mean to.”

“Well, you did.”

“And we didn’t mean to scare him.”

“Well, you did.”

“We just wanted to make sure he didn’t get away until we could figure out what was going on!”

“In what universe would what you did not scare anyone?  And you went into my room while I wasn’t home!  He’s not strong enough to open the door on his own, I know you must have!  What gives you the right?”

“You kept brushing me off!” said Teddy.  “You never bring your fucking plates back down!  You had half the kitchen in here!”

��That doesn’t mean you can come into my private space!”

Thistle peeked out from under the comforter, anxiety rising.  All three of them were so big, and had such loud, powerful voices, and they were all angry.

“Forget about what we did,” said Teddy.  “Why did you do that?  You brought that into our house and didn’t even tell us-”

“Well, based on your reaction, it seems like it was a good idea not to tell you!”

“Come on, Marcy,” said Teddy.  “What did you expect us to do?  We have no idea what that thing is--we didn't know what to do, and we wanted to make sure it didn’t get away.”

“He’s not a thing,” said Marcy.  “He’s a person, and his name is Ardo.  Or Thistle.  I’m.  Well I’m not sure which he wants to be called.”

Colin tapped his pointer fingers together, looking embarrassed.  “Can I say sorry to him?”

Marcy stared at him.

“He could be dangerous,” said Teddy.  “He could be magic.  I don’t like the idea of--we shouldn’t mess around with this stuff.” 

Marcy grimaced.

“If he’s magic, we should double apologize to him,” said Colin.

“I….”  Teddy crossed her arms, anger petering out.  “I guess so…  I just don’t want to be cursed by fae magic or something.”

“It’ll be okay, Teddy bear.”

Marcy’s shoulders slumped.  “I’m sorry.  I know I shouldn’t have hid something big from you and ignored you.”  She pushed the door open the rest of the way.  “Please just be gentle, okay?  And don’t raise your voice too loud, or make any sudden movements.  He’s...skittish.”

Marcy knelt by the bed, where she saw Thistle’s eyes peering out from the dim cavern of the covers.  “Hey,” she cooed.  “Come here.  It’s okay.”

Thistle crawled hesitantly out, on all fours like a riled cat, staring at Colin and Teddy leaning behind Marcy.

“It’s all right.  They won’t hurt you.”

Thistle slid into Marcy’s hand.  She shielded him with her other hand and stood, turning and extending him out slightly towards Teddy and Colin.

He stood in her hand, facing them.  He wasn’t sure how exactly, but these two seemed to have authority of some kind over Marcy, and he was now acutely aware of how important it was to make a good impression on them.  If they thought he was a bad house guest, well…  His leg still ached.

For Thistle, having the full attention of all three giants at once was nerve-wracking.  The proximity of three pairs of hands that could easily tear him limb from limb clouded his mind, static bubbling up and eclipsing his other thoughts.  He swallowed, mouth dry.

There was no indication any of them were angry at him, but it was certainly hard to feel that way when he was the center of attention.

He felt like he had to perform for all of them, like an animal caught for the circus.  It was suddenly hard to believe that Marcy was on his side here, with this grave, looming reminder that she had much, much more in common with these other two who’d also put him in a jar than she’d ever have with him, no matter how many drawings they shared and words they learned from each other.

It was suddenly more terrifying than when he was being chased and caught, knowing his fate rested on pleasing these juggernauts but having only the faintest idea of how to behave, of knowing the consequences of a wrong guess could be catastrophic. 

He felt all six eyeballs as big as his head burning into him.  Was Marcy trying to introduce them properly?  Her tone seemed to indicate so, and he heard her saying names.

“This is Thistle,” said Marcy, giving him what she hoped was a reassuring brush of the finger against his back.  “I...found him out in the field.  He was hurt.  I wasn’t really sure what to do with him.”

“But what is he?” said Teddy.  “A fairy?”

“I guess.”

“He looks too much like a bug to be a fairy.”

Thistle seemed to physically flinch at the word bug.  He stood, waving his arms, looking very nervous.

They all fell silent and watched him. 

He flourished elegantly and gave a very low, cordial bow.

“Ha!” said Colin.  “Look at that!  He’s so polite.”  He leaned down and extended a finger.

“Don’t poke him!” said Teddy.  “What are you doing?”

“I was trying to offer him a handshake!”  He sighed as Thistle withdrew from his touch, pressing closer to Marcy, and put his hand back down on his thigh.  “Sorry I hurt you, lil dude.  It was an accident.”

Thistle nodded hesitantly.  “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, too,” said Teddy.

“It’s okay.”

“This is Theodora.”

“Hi, Theodora.”

“Hi.”

“And this is Colin.”

“Hi, Colin.”

“Hi, lil dude.”  Colin straightened back up, hand on his chin.  “So you say you found him in a field and took him home?”

“Yeah.”

“So you’re just keeping him prisoner?!”

Marcy bit her lip.  “Hey now, you--you did the same thing!”

“That’s because I found him in my house.  If he was out in a field, I wouldn’t kidnap him.”

Marcy looked down at Thistle, once again feeling guilt wash over her.  “I...it was instinct.  And he was hurt!  He would have died if I’d left him out there...probably.”

“He belongs with his family!  Does he have a family?”

Marcy sighed, sitting on the bed and putting Thistle on her lap.  “I...already tried that.  I took him back out where I found him, and he didn’t want to go back.  I think he was...scared of what I might do if I found his family.”

“Aww,” said Colin.

“I...I guess he just lives here now?”  She looked at Teddy, trying to exude an aura of pure respectfulness.  “Is that okay?”

Teddy twiddled her thumbs.  “I...I guess so.  If he has nowhere else to go.  It’d be cruel to kick him out.  So…  What do we...er...Well, what have you been doing with him, exactly, Marcy?”

Marcy smiled and headed to the desk, where the paper and pencils still sat.

***

They went to bed late that night, tuckered out from an exciting time getting comfortable with the two new introductions.  Marcy gave it a moment’s thought before taking the little box bed back out of the cooler, setting it on the desk.

“All right, there you go.  Bed time.”

He looked oddly disappointed by that.  She asked him what he wanted, but he half-heartedly mumbled something she couldn’t understand and walked over to the sewing kit.  He rifled around in and came back out with what appeared to be a crudely sewn pair of pajamas.

“Oh, did you make those?” she said, delighted.

He changed into them wordlessly, unenthusiastically.

“What’s the matter?”

“They’re...not good.”

“They’re good!”

Looking haggard and disappointed, he crawled into bed and pulled a Kleenex over his head.  Marcy bade him goodnight and slipped into her own bed.

A few minutes later, in the silence and the dark, she heard the faint whir of his wings, one bout of flight to get him off the desk.  Then, the soft pitter-patter of bare feet on carpet, then another burst of flight.

She felt the pressure faintly as he walked over the duvet, up to her chest, and peered cautiously at her.

“Yes?”

Slowly, almost spider-like, he flipped around and inched under the covers with her, snuggling up against her chest and pulling the comforter down over him.

“You like that?”

“Yes.”

She rubbed the corner of his jaw gently, not breaking eye contact.  “Just wake me up if I roll over or something.”

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

She closed her eyes, putting one hand around him, feeling him going up and down faintly with the rising of her chest with each breath.  She could only imagine the heat and coziness he must feel.

As the comfortable silence settled over them, a new sound rang out faintly, barely audible.

Bzzzzzzzzzz…

Marcy’s eyes came back open, her face scrunched up.  “What...what’s that noise?”

Thistle went bright red, hands gripping Marcy’s pajamas and adamantly refusing to make eye contact with her.

“Thistle….  What’s that sound?”

“Not important.  Good night.”

#giant/tiny #gt #gianttiny #fairy #angst #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #fearplay #. #my writing #my original writing

[arsonsamruby]

sam winchester pride

i have a new fic <3 hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

it’s s1 sam coming out to dean. was THIS close to making the ending sam ugly crying alone but even though dean Is like. microaggressions boy he’s not going to be a bitch about it all that’s out of character. i think he does try very hard to support sam. like he’s not an ally but probably because he doesn’t really know what an ally is. 

anyway wtf am i even saying.

___ Sam has a headache. Dean comes by, ruffles his hair, slouches into the couch. Sam licks his lips, looking away from the screen. It has loud, bright cartoons on it and in the prickling sense of dread he’s carrying with him, the stimulation is too much. 

Half of the headache is from a hard hit he took to the head, lingering pain. The other half is stress and dehydration. Unless beer counts as hydration, then in which- well, he’s covered. The screen of the television is cracked through; it’s playing Friends reruns. 

He stands abruptly. 

“Sammy, I swear to God, if you start pacing again-” Dean warns, throwing a pillow at him. Sam ducks it, somehow. His body takes up half the room. It’s hard to find space. 

He can’t help it. His feet get itchy, his legs pull tight, and it’s nice. Nice, to put in his earphones and walk around for a little while. “I’ll go out to the parking lot, promise. I won’t bother you.” 

He smiles slightly at Dean, but his brother isn’t much looking. 

The parking lot of the motel has the sticky feeling underfoot of summer heat on asphalt, and sweat. The crumbling pollen and flowers from the trees have made his half-present allergies flare up. As a kid, Sam would have allergy seasons that ran out of sync with everyone else’s. 

Go three years without a single cold, until one awful summer would come and he’d sneeze and sneeze and sneeze. He recalls: Oregon, in a rainy patch. It had been a relief to wash all the yellow pollen away with the weekly downpour. Another thing about Oregon, he’d had a best friend there. A girl. 

Huh. He tries to tuck his smile away, but it comes through like the sun through clouds. Sam looks dumb, doesn’t he? Some goofball pacing around a parking lot and smiling to himself. 

After about ten minutes, maybe more, his pace slows. The scenery is getting too humid. He wants to roll back into bed, into those cool sheets. 

“Sammy? Is that you?” 

Sam kicks his shoes off into the dirty corner. Dean’s left a bootprint on the floor there. If Sam was looking for a fight, he’d say something. “It’s me.” 

“You got a call. Someone left a voicemail. For you.” 

His voice is sharp, pounding hail on cement. “A call?” Sam replies dumbly.

Dean nods his head over to the answering machine. “I’ll put it on for you.” 

Sam’s heart begins to slow to a rolling stretch of highway. The cars moving across it are few and far between and his breath is short and dangerous. 

“Sammy?” The effusive warmth dies down after the nickname, realizing Dean’s heard it through. The voicemail, the nickname. “You gave me this number the other day. Outside the Jewel Osco?” 

He laughs. It crackles over the phone in a friendly way. Friendly the way he kissed tiny little butterflies onto Sam’s collarbones, the way his house was cool in the summer night. 

“I guess you’re a big-time developer and all so I’m not sure if you even care. But I have the jacket you left with me? The other night?” 

He clears his throat. “If you want it back, you can drop by.” The voicemail ends. 

“You leave your jacket at your friend’s house, Sammy? Come on, it’s just like you’re little again. You want me to pick it up for you?” 

Sam realizes two things: Dean hasn’t caught what the message means, and Sam wishes he would have. 

“Dean?” 

“Mmm?” 

Sam has never been able to cry with dry eyes. He can’t hide the shaky undercurrent to his voice. His eyelids feel like cement but he keeps staring at Dean. A flush of fear is blooming high on his cheeks. 

“Me and that guy, we’re not just friends. Or whatever.” 

Sam went calling for information, at his house. Said he was a real estate developer, even though the back of his neck went red with the obvious lie. The suit was cheap and he was young. He’d gotten the information and then this guy, his name is Jude, had kissed him. Sam left the suit jacket there. He’s glad he’s getting it back, all things considered. 

He still doesn’t know what possessed him to hand over his number after buying peanut butter and sandwich bread two days later. A crack in his self control, maybe. 

“What do you mean…” Dean isn’t making jokes, at least. Sam squints hard at the floor. His head feels like a matchbox. Being struck over and over again. His headache is back, erupting with a vengeance. 

“Sam, is it something- Dad did? Is it something I did? To make you, uh.” 

Sam shakes his head, sighing deeply. He wants to be a bitch about it and spit out something sarcastic. “What do you think you could have done?” 

Dean shakes his head. Murmurs, “I don’t know,” almost that Sam can’t hear him. “I guess you’re the type, though, Sammy.” Sam knows what he means by that. “As long as you don’t go around falling in love with some starry eyed dude. We still have to find Dad.” 

“About that. Don’t tell him.” Sam pointedly raises his eyebrows. Dean doesn’t have a great record of choosing- choosing him, his secrets that he keeps tight in his fists. He doesn’t have a record of letting any opportunity to be a good son slip by. 

“Sure, sure.” Dean frowns. “Hey, what about Jess? Did you lead some poor chick on up until-” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Sam’s hands are suddenly shaking. Dean leans back. He’s not the shrinking type, his shoulders stay up and guarded. “I’m not gay, I’m- I’m something else. Both, you know?” The inside of his cheek is bitten raw, he can taste the fleshier bits coming alive. 

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Sammy.” 

The telling was easy; now it’s muddier. Sam wades in anyway. “Who here is the expert, you or me?” The sick dread has risen in his stomach and is now lapping at his sodden brain, pulling him under. It’s hot as hell out but he pulls the blankets over his legs. 

“Sorry. Bad take.” 

“I loved her-” Dean doesn’t like hearing about Jess and Sam cuts himself off. 

“Never mind. I’m going to go get more beer.” Dean leaves. 

Sam looks between the ugly green blankets, the TV still on, the white, unearthly light seeping in through every crack. When he told Jess, she lit up with it, went on to ask him questions, run her fingers through his shower-damp hair and let him talk. 

Dean bursts through the door. “Sammy, I really do want to say- thank you for telling me. You wanna talk about it more, we can go get your girly coffee drink and we can talk about whatever.” 

The aimless tears in Sam’s eyes finally come to the surface. “Oh, come on,” Sam groans. “You don’t have to act like I’m that-” 

Dean interrupts him. “Here, Sammy. Here. The way I see it, you’re like Chandler Bing now.” 

Sam blinks at him. “Dean, he’s not-” 

“Well, maybe not in the show, but everyone knows he’s gay anyway. You’re like Chandler Bing. If you want to go with me and get a coffee, uh, tell me about the guy action you got at Stanford, I’ll be your Joey.” 

Sam swipes the back of his hand across his eyes. If tears were blood he would look like a murder victim. Dean approaches him nervously. “Seriously.” He wrestles Sam into a tight hug, holding him for a long few minutes. 

“Do we still have painkillers around? I have a headache.” The walls (brown wood and decades out of date) are no longer closing in on him under oppressive heat and thoughts of Jess. Dean isn’t mad. Just- just Dean. 

Life returns to normal.

#sam winchester #my fic #dean winchester #if you tag this as ship i'm physically ending you i'm killing you with bare hands #i WILL kill you #spnprideweek

[commander-yinello]

Guardian (Jumin x Zen)

Happy Birthday @maniart1o9​!!! For you, I wrote some JuminZen with one of your favorite themes (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ I hope you will enjoy it! Read more under the cut ♥♥ ~_^

Word Count: 1945 Warnings: Mild swearing, smoking, references to a car accident

Jumin knows he’s seen him.

Even upside down, with the airbag so closely pressed to his chest that he couldn’t move, his vision spinning, and the overwhelming scent of gasoline making him dizzy, he sees Zen outside the front window. And he’s glowing, so bright his eyes water. Then, as someone pulls him out of the car, he’s gone.

That’s not possible, assistant Kang insists next to the hospital bed he’s sitting in, both waiting for the doctor to come back. Zen was nowhere near C&R International, and she only just warned the RFA 5 seconds ago of the crash. He could not have possibly arrived here that fast.

Ah. The crash. The car crash. The one Jumin was in because Driver Kim had his day off, and Jumin saw no issue driving to the client himself. The one where Jumin had to swerve to dodge another car cutting off his lane, and caused his own car to topple over and crash against a tree.

She’s right, Jumin thinks, there’s no way Zen could have been at the crash. Most likely stress from the crash, a concussion, his panicked imagination going in overdrive.

Yet, not a minute later, the doctor tells him he doesn’t even have a bruise. As if he never was in a car accident. That should not be possible, the doctor says, and assistant Kang is equally confused. Jumin however, is not.

He is certain now, he’s seen Zen.

And he has a suspicion why.

~~~~

Jumin Han:

Do you sometimes find yourself in places you weren’t before when you travel?

ZEN: Dude it’s 1 AM why are you messaging me

Also wtf are you going on about

Are you high???

Jumin Han: You still replied.

ZEN: Go to sleep and leave me alone, asshole

~~~~

He’s always wondered what was up about Zen. He knows about albinos, they often took great care of themselves when going outside, and sometimes had other health issues. Not Zen, who is so handsome, not that Jumin would admit it out loud. Who is so fit, he jogged daily. Who has no problem taking selfies in broad daylight with no sunscreen or sunglasses in sight. It had been only after Jumin made the last comment, a year ago, that Zen suddenly mentioned jogging at night, or an extensive skincare routine.

Back then, he stopped caring very quickly. It wasn’t any of his business, of course, what the narcissistic man did.

Now he cares again. He remembers how Zen had gotten into an accident, and V told him in full detail how Zen had healed insanely fast.

A handsome albino with super fast healing skills. How very strange, he tells Elizabeth, and she meows in agreement. He pets her while leaning an elbow on his mahogany desk, laptop showing a website of occult creatures.

Maybe he is a vampire. The ones in that one teenage movie sparkle. Which is not a glow, his brain reminds him. Plus the whole sun thing would still be an issue.

He entertains the sexy albino vampire idea a bit too long, before he realizes and cuts his thoughts off on purpose.

Maybe he is too paranoid. Maybe Zen is human. Zen’s allergy for cats seems real, at least. Even though Zen is an actor, Jumin thinks, he hides his emotions poorly.

And then Zen mentions that, sometimes, he has prophetic dreams.

Strange. Very, very strange.

Too many things don't add up for Zen to be human. And Jumin wants to know who he truly is - very much so.

~~~~

Jumin Han: Do you often glow?

ZEN: Of course I do, my beauty is radiant Blessed by the Gods themselves

Jumin Han: Gods. Interesting. Tell me all about them.

ZEN: What? What do you mean? You’re creeping me out Also why are you messaging me again what the hell

Jumin Han: You always reply to me.

ZEN: No I don’t, stupid jerk

Jumin Han: And yet you did it again.

ZEN: Argh! I can’t with you! Screw you!

~~~~ 

Zen is calling him a weirdo in the chat again. Jerk. Freak. The words have never mattered to him, but now Jumin wonders if it’s a smokescreen. He’s paid very close attention to all of the chatrooms with Zen in it, to the point it felt like stalking. It’s interesting how often Zen brings him up as a topic, even when it’s completely unnecessary.

He starts to understand why Luciel thinks Zen is obsessed with him. Perhaps because there is more than Zen shows.

But Zen denies everything he asks. He denies whatever screenshots Jumin sends him. He insults and denies and rants, and Jumin doesn't get any closer to the truth. At some point, Zen mentions that his behavior is akin to his older brother, but it comes over as an excuse to make Jumin shut up.

To the outside world, it seems that Zen truly despises him. Jumin is just not convinced.

There’s only a few things Jumin knows for sure. Zen was there when he crashed. And it had to be connected to the fact that Jumin came out of the crash completely unharmed. That’s it.

It drives him mad that he is denied more knowledge.

So he makes a decision. He tells assistant Kang to watch over Elizabeth. Heads down to the garage. Opens the car door. Takes a deep breath and wonders if he’s gone insane.

He gets behind the wheel again.

~~~~ Yoosung☆: Hi Zen!!

Jaehee Kang: Hello Zen, good to see you!

ZEN: Hey guys Where’s Jerkmin?

707: Lololol why do you ask~ Could it be.... You miss him??! (~˘▾˘)~

ZEN: What?! Of course not Why would you say that I’m glad he’s not around to spoil the mood! I just find it suspicious he’s not here

Jaehee Kang: Mr. Han said he had something important to do Now I have c-fur on my suit again T_T

Yoosung☆: Poor Jaehee, hopefully you’ll be free soon - Zen has left the chatroom -

Yoosung☆: Ehhhh????

707: Zen suddenly leaving? Now that’s suspicious ರ_ರ

Jaehee Kang: I hope nothing happened to him. ~~~~

Jumin never crashes. The moment he turns on the engine, Zen is there, in front of the car lights, scaring the hell out of him. In a split second, the lamps in the garage flicker, and Jumin swears he sees a faint glowing outline of feathers behind Zen. 

Zen is wearing his trademark turtleneck and holds a cigarette in his hand. He takes a drag and blows out the smoke, looking bored, as if he had been waiting.

“You're such a jerk, you know that?” Zen’s voice echoes in the large garage. They are alone. He hears nothing in the background, as if time stands still.

Jumin is too stunned to reply. Zen sighs, and walks to the side of the car, opens the door and takes his place in the passenger seat. He grabs the key from Jumin’s fingers and turns the engine off. The smell of tobacco and cologne fill Jumin’s nose, yet he doesn’t find the will to tell Zen not to smoke in his car.

“If me sitting here will stop you from killing yourself, then so be it,” Zen says, and takes another drag after closing the door.

Jumin realizes his hands still grip the wheel, and he slowly lowers them to his lap.

“What… what are you?” he asks.

“I can’t answer that. You already know way too much because I fucked up. Don't worry, nothing will happen to you,” Zen replies, and the smoke surrounding him makes him look more human.

“And to you?”

Zen looks out the open window instead. “It’s fine,” he finally replies.

That isn’t what he wants to hear. But if nothing would happen to him, then possibly Zen’s punishment wouldn’t be too severe.

Zen’s words do confirm other things - there is some higher power at work keeping Zen in check. And Zen did protect him, he’s sure of it now, from dying. So much so that Zen is in trouble for it.

“You protected me… too much. I should have had some damage,” Jumin says, inadvertently licking his lips. He’s nervous, because the bratty vain actor had been the one standing between life and death for him.

Zen runs a hand through his hair. Maybe Jumin is projecting, but he feels Zen is nervous too.

"I know that, trust fund. I just… couldn’t deal with… that." Zen waves his cigarette-free hand at the air in front of them, trying to stay as cryptic as possible.

He cares too much, Jumin instantly realizes. He watches Zen cross his legs - a defensive stance, Jumin notes - and wonders how much Zen has said in the chatroom is real.

“For someone like you, you aren’t exactly good at keeping it a secret.”

Zen chuckles. “You’d be surprised how much people accept. In fact, the stranger you seem, the less likely they suspect.”

Jumin hates to admit that it made sense. “Are you always fighting me because you have to distance yourself from me on purpose?”

“I can't answer that.”

Can't or shouldn't? Either way, Jumin is content with the answer. Yet, he can’t stop asking questions.

“Does everyone have… someone like you?”

“Not me specifically.”

Jumin makes a mental note to check all sun-loving albinos in the country. “Do you know who else is like you?”

Zen shook his head. “I know there are others. No idea who.”

“Sounds… lonely.”

“...It is.”

Jumin knows all about loneliness. He imagines Elizabeth on his lap, and sees the photo of V, Rika and him on his desk, and hears his father’s voicemail on his phone. So many days he’s convinced only Elizabeth would be there to catch him, when he comes home tired from work and falls down the abyss in his mind. Awful, lonely thoughts.

He wants to ask more. Menial questions like is Zen truly allergic, or deeper ones asking about the forces unknown. Jumin decides that he doesn’t want to push it.

“So… what now?”

“You,” Zen points at Jumin’s chest, “Will stop trying to drive, you menace. I actually like it here, so don’t make it worse.”

Jumin grins. “You like it here? Even with me?”

“Yeah, I know, must suck being guarded by someone you hate.” Zen rolls his eyes.

“I never hated you.”

Zen whips his head towards Jumin, eyes wide. 

“Never. Not even when you tried your worst. And now, knowing it is you watching over me… It is a blessing. Thank you, Zen.”

He means it. There is a happy light feeling in his chest, knowing there’s a very logical reason for Zen to act so irrationally towards him. And he knows that he’ll have to act irrational back in order to keep up the facade, so Zen can stay.

He wants Zen to stay.

Zen blushes, and tries to hide it poorly by looking out of the window again. Jumin can’t help but find it endearing. “When you say things like that, people will think you’ve gone crazy.”

Jumin smirks. He doesn’t care what people think of him. Wasn’t there still that rumor of him floating around?

Zen flicks his cigarette stub away and sighs. “Well, I need to go. Take care.”

“Should I, when I have you?” Jumin sasses. It’s too close to flirting to be misconstrued otherwise.

“Wh- N- Whatever, just don’t drive!” he yells. His cheeks are redder, and Jumin notices before the car is filled with a bright light.

Once again, Zen is gone. A very typically Zen to do. Jumin smiles, and sits in the car for a while.

He still has no good excuse when Assistant Kang finally finds him there.

#juzen #juminzen #zumin #jumin x zen #mystic messenger #mysme #fanfiction #my fanfic #omg it's been too long since I wrote fanfic #pls forgive anything OOC #also I wanted this to be longer but no time T_T #why is real life so cruel #still it was v fun to write! #I love supernatural themes *_* #ty mani for ur talent and ideas <3

[jaideite]

HEADCANON OF BAKUGOU WITH BABY FEVER PART TWO

as soon as I had finished the first one, I immediately wanted to do this :)) brought warmth to my heart

plus y’all deserve it after my most recent stunt i swear 💀

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

— the moment he finds out he’s immediately overprotective of you

— someone wants to hug you? nope, handshake.

— the only one who can hug you is him because he’s careful of the growing baby inside of you

— he wants a girl so bad

— just to he can go around and say “my girls”

— will spoil her with only the best of the best of things

— calls out of work to go to the first ultrasound and has the nerve to be impatient about the whole appointment lmao

— “Can the damn doctor hurry it up?”

— “Be patient.”

— “Screw it, I’m going to find them.”

— “Jeez I hope this kid gets my patience and not yours.”

— finally the doctor comes and he does everything needed and you get to see your baby who seems to be covering it’s face and flipping you off from inside the womb

— the baby isn’t even born and he’s a proud parent already

— “Well this is definitely your kid.”

— “Can you tell the gender?”

— and sadly you can’t because the baby is positioned a certain way that won’t allow the doctor to see what it’s gender will be, but he can play the heart beat

— when the doctor plays the baby’s heartbeat he can’t help but cry bc wow you both did it

— after months and months you’re finally getting a kid

— he of course wipes them away and denies it

— “My EyEs WeRe iTcHy,”

— please realize he probably will not go out and get you some weird midnight snack combination unless you annoy him about them for like days

— he will make you something healthy from the fridge because he’s pretty sure that the baby didn’t suggest you both need to eat “Elf Spaghetti”

— you did end up getting your elf spaghetti and he watched in disgust as you ate it and cleaned your plate

— he refused to kiss you all day because of that

— he will probably give foot massages if you annoy him enough about your feet killing you and out of pettiness he will make sure that it’s the best foot massage you’ve ever had

— he heats his hands up so that makes it even heavenly on your sore swollen feet

— he likes touching the bump too

— you’re in public and he just rubs the side of your stomach with his knuckles or brushed his hand over it and you just let it be

— sometimes he drums his fingers on the top and if he’s lucky enough baby will kick back where he drummed them and it makes him smile

— talks to your stomach sometimes too but it’s only when you’re dead asleep and he knows it from the way you’re snoring

— “God I hope when you’re older you don’t snore like your mother here.”

— he’s at work when you go into labor

— he’s in the process of arresting a villain he had been after for a couple months when Kirishima comes running up to him and telling him to come on

— “The fuck is wrong with you?! Can’t you see I’m—“

— “It’s y/n. She’s—“

— he doesn’t get to finish because he’s gone already asking for the nearest non damaged taxi thays avalible and trying not to drop his phone due to his gauntlets

— he keeps calling and calling you and it goes to voicemail and he’s just panicking inside because what if someone found out? What if you’re hurt?

— third time is the charm because you finally pick up...or more so your mom

— normally he cares for his in laws they’re kind enough and they accept his anger issues and well...bakugou...but now is not the time for “Oh, Katsuki hi—“

— no he could care less he needs to know where his wife and child are and he doesn’t know so he kinda just screams at everything

— he figures out what hospital you’re at and he finally gets there all dirty and grimey and sweaty and he’s literally shaking in anger trying to find out where you are and no one is helping him because they’re all cornered at the fact that he’s got cuts and bruises on him

— he can honestly care less

— “My wife. My wife Y/N BAKUGOU IS IN LABOUR! WHAT ROOM IS SHE IN? THAT’S ALL I’M ASKING!”

— and the nurses aren’t even scared because they can hear the panic in his voice over you, so one of them finally directs him to the floor you’re on

— he couldnt be more grateful he puts in the back of his mind to send a thank you to that nurse as he takes off his gauntlets and leaves them before running up the stairs because wtf elevators are too slow

— he’s finally there and of course he gets recognized by someone but he doesn’t care he’s just looking for you because he can feel himself panicking at the fact that you’re having their kid and he’s missing it.

— but luckily the doctor he ran into is the one who’s delivering his kid so he just followes them to you and the baby

— his hand hurts all throughout the labour and boy do you gain so much more respect from him. He’s just giving encouraging words while wincing at his hand but the pain dulls when his kids screams hit his ears and the nurses say “It’s a girl!”

— when he holds his daughter for the first time and gets a peak at her little blonde hair he feels a swell of pride and promptly cries like that guy from cloudy with a chance of meatball lol

— and by that I mean he lets one tear fall and let’s it fall

— he becomes even more proud when her tiny hands start grabbing at things, and she even manages to pull on his hair somehow which of course he doesn’t mind he simply laughs it off.

— it’s clear that she’s got her dad wrapped around her finger and he knows too

— that video of the dad and the baby sitting together on the couch having a conversation? That’s him.

— No baby talk. His child will be able to string together like five word sentences when other babies are speaking their first words

— she definitely is a daddy’s girl, because every time she sees him on TV she jumps up and screams “Daddy!”

— you’ve sent him a video of it and he lowkey cries in his curry at the image of his daughters little gap smile

— if she starts to become anything like he was as a kid he’s going to sit her down and half a long talk with her about how wrong that is and how if you see that happening you either tell someone or you step up for them because that’s what heroes do

— becomes best dad in the world from that

#bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou headcanons #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia headcanons #my hero imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero headcanons

[bluedemon1995]

Stay True To Yourself!

I read a story about a girl whose boyfriend took her to a swingers party…but neglected to tell her! And of course, that story led me down a very strange rabbit hole until this popped in my head. Ummm, this one has a little bit of a more adult theme - so please read with caution! This is an alternate reality story- obv not canon.

Katie Holt sat in the car feeling a niggling sense of unease that she cannot dismiss as hard as she tries to shove it down. She tries to narrow down the cause, thinking and analyzing as is her nature. Is it because she hasn’t been dating Mark very long and he picked her up roughly an hour ago. In fact, if she was honest, this was probably the longest amount of time she’d actually spent in his actual company. Previously, it was mostly online chats then a couple of in person short lunch coffee dates. But they were maybe twenty minutes. Is it because they are going to a party and she typically does not enjoy parties? Or maybe it’s because he’s the only person she’d know from this party, and she hates being dependent on anyone. She’d much rather rely on herself.

Regardless of the cause, she tries to shake off the feelings and enjoy the moment. Live a little in the real world like Allura said as she was helping her getting ready. Actually, if she was honest, this was the second novel experience of the day since having a friend come over and help her get ready for a date was a first as well. Yesterday, when she absently mentioned that she could not go to the movies tonight because she was going to a Christmas party with Mark, Allura got so excited. She immediately made plans to go shopping and offered to come and help me get ready. She was honestly more excited than I was but it was nice to have someone care.

Which was nice because her mom and dad had a work Christmas party to go to and her brother was on a date himself. It was nice for Allura to come over and help her out. In spite of the make up, dress and dating tips, she had a good time. Allura was only a couple of actual years older than but in experience she was decades ahead of her!

This year, partly due to their project at work, she’s gotten closer to some of co-workers or team. It’s been a nice change since high school and college where she was mostly alone except for her family and their friends. She loved feeling like people got her sarcasm, her references well, just HER. It was nice to have people who made her stop working to eat lunch or heck, even remembered to check to see if she left work for the day. Slowly but surely her team had become her friends.

Which all leads her back to a few moments ago, when Mark parked and got out of the car, stopping at the hood to wait for her. He looks impatient but whatever, she needs to take a minute alone to get her self under control. Her nerves hit a high point but deciding this was as good as it gets, Pidge stands and walks to the him, impulsively reaching out and holding his hand. It was dark and snowy, she definitely did not want to fall on ice as they walked up! How embarrassing!

He seemed surprised by her hand but quickly pulled her close, “Hey so, this is a special party and I’d really appreciate it if you kept an open mind, think of it as an of it as an experiment.”

Pidge felt like a five alarm bell was suddenly going off at the conclusion of that sentence. FUCK! What was he talking about?!? Why would he say something like that now? It was akin to setting a bomb and saying, do not look at the timer.

While Pidge is having an internal panic attack they walk in-no knocking just walk straight in the door. She doesn’t see anything right off the bat that concerns her. There’s a table where keys were thrown, shoes piled in the front hall and music playing. It was a really nice house, set in one of the fancier subdivisions of the area. Pidge was trying to keep calm but she was annoyed that he’d state something like that as they were walking in the door! What about beforehand so she could of decided?!? And he really didn’t tell her anything, which is worse than knowing.

He takes his shoes off, she does the same. Hesitating, he turns and pulls her towards the kitchen. “Drink? What’s your poison?”

Pidge sighs, beer seems safe and not like she’s going to be drinking much of anything after that bomb he dropped walking in. “Beer is fine, I’d like light if they got it.”

He nods and goes towards the coolers lined up along the wall. Pidge does what she does best, fades into the background and observes the room carefully. The lights seem dim and she could see out the patio doors that more people are out there by the pool. She squints, maybe it’s the just the glare…but are those people naked?!?

Mark comes back at that time with a draft beer which means I won’t be taking a drink of it. Why wouldn’t he give me a bottle or can that I could open myself? I’m quiet and watch Mark take in the party. I wonder who he knows? Suddenly, I look at a pretty girl in a Mrs. Claus outfit who comes up to Mark. She smiles brightly, and proceeds to lock lips with Mark, wow. She’s actually impressive with her ability to wrap around him like a snake yet keep her hand with her drink still, not spilling a drop. I’m actually impressed! My eyes dart around the room, trying to gauge what the hell is going on here. Why would he bring me here if he already has girl???

Finally she breaks off and slides over to me, “Hi, Danni with an I, wanna make out?”

I blink, rapidly, “Um, no, I’m good, but, uh, thank you for the offer though.”

She smiles, “Okay! If you change your mind I’ll be around!”

She flounced away and I looked to Mark, quietly questioning, “Exactly what kind of Christmas party is this? Why am I even here?!?”

He chucked, “It’s a swingers party and you can’t come alone. You NEED to bring a date, you know for the numbers. C’mon, this will be fun.”

I look at him feeling myself turn red. “Wait a minute, I bought a fucking new outfit for this?!? I put goddamn makeup on! You fucking asshole! Look, I could give two shits about what you do, honestly, we aren’t involved like that but why involve me? Could you not find someone else to bring? For fuck’s sake!”

Mark stared at me, having the NERVE to arch a brow, “Cursing really? You know swearing is for people not intelligent enough to come up with a better word. Besides, don’t be a prude, look walk around and find someone you find interesting or hot. There are a lot of people here, like it’s not that hard.”

I close my eyes and as bad as I want to hit him, curse him out, I refrain. Oh, he will pay, just later when there aren’t about a hundred witnesses who can fill out a police report. I take a breath and walk away, back to the front door. I look at the keys, but they all look the same, how would I know which is which. I guess I could take them all but what if someone wants to leave. I step out to the front steps.

Honestly, this could not have happened on a worse night. I can’t call Matt, he’s finally on a date with his current dream girl and my parents at that work party. I close my eyes, take a breath to reign in my anxiety that is sky rocketing and first I try Allura. But, duh, she’s at the movies with Romelle and probably turned her phone off. Shit. My eyes fill with tears but I refuse to let them fall. I take a deep breath, trying Hunk instead another coworker. Straight to voicemail. Shit he might be sleeping.

I look at my contacts and realize, I don’t have a long list of people to call. I sit and sigh, okay no matter how embarrassing I could always get an Uber. I schedule one but because I’m so far it will take about an hour. I walk around to the back and sit on a chair in the dark corner of the backyard. Sitting, I let my finger hover over the last name to try. Here goes nothing. Hanging up I text a short message. What the hell do I have to lose at this point.

I sit. And sit. I don’t know how many girls and guys I rebuff but something about a person not wanting to hook up makes people want to hook up with you apparently. Jeesh, in my real life, no one wanted to date me now everyone was trying to have sex with me. WTF?

Sighing I look at my phone, and crap, it looks like all my surfing has killed my battery. Suddenly a very naked Mark and a different Mrs. Claus come up to me.

Mrs. Claus giggles out, “Hey if you’re nervous, you could totally hook up with my husband. He’s the hot elf over there, standing on the edge of the pool and hot tub. It will be fun! Then if we like, we could continue next week!!” She giggles a lot and I try not to be rude.

“Thank you for that kind offer, but I’m good.”

She shrugs, “Sure thing baby, but aren’t you bored. Marky said you were shy and um, a novice. Don’t be afraid.”

Mark turns and Pidge can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Only for some guy in his boxers to edge into her space. “Darlin’, you-me-, it’s written in the stars baby.”

I groan, “Nope. You misread them, thank tho.”

Usually once I say no, they just move on. But nope, not this one. “Don’t be a prude. Sex is very natural. It’s elemental. It’s like essential. You need me baby!!”

Really, that’s his line? I shake my head no, but now we’ve got a crowd. I hear people interject how I’m falling into societies lanes and I must be a virgin because I’m sitting by myself. Then I hear people say I should be grateful and oh my gosh, yep, I’ve been transported back to high school. Except I’m not a self conscious kid anymore and I don’t give a fuck what they think about me. But, I’ll be damned if I don’t respond. No one pushes me or pressures me to do something I don’t want to. And I’ve never just gone with the crowd cuz it was easier, not then, not now.

I hear a roar and suddenly all attention is lost on me. I decided to leave before my temper actually erupts. I quickly move towards the gate to get the hell out of here. I’d rather walk home then stay here. Fuck Mark and his party. I might actually brainstorm with Allura and Romelle on a way to get back at him. Something embarrassing.

As I walk away I hear Mark yelling my name, “Katie! Katie! Don’t walk away! You need to expand your senses and life. Don’t be scared. There is so much I could teach you. Don’t be such a prude!”

Laughter.

Well fuck him. Now I’m pissed. I’m not scared. I just don’t want to do this. Yet, who does he think he is telling me what I should do. As if. And what if he did this to other girls, who weren’t able to say no? I turn around and calmly but loudly state, while looking straight at him, “Look, don’t act like I’m the scared one. Who didn’t tell me where they were taking me. If this was a scene I was into, fine. And believe me, I will sleep with whoever I want. I just don’t want to sleep with you nor do I have anything to prove to anyone. But if and when I see a guy or girl for that matter, that I’d like to fuck, then I would. So, shut up, cause Marky you’re just not it.”

I could hear murmurs and then Mark yelling, and his feet slapping on the ground. Ughhhhh. One thing I could be thankful for is seeing him naked, cuz ick. He has no muscle definition and oh my God, I cannot wait to tell Allura how he looks like he waxes cuz he has no hair anywhere on his body.

I turn to walk away and see a guy who I have HAD the luxury of day dreaming about striding towards me with an shit eating smirk. Well, shit, of course. My eyes closes but it doesn’t stop my from seeing him behind my eyes. His hair is slightly matted from his helmet which means the roar must have been his Harley. He has one of his many black t-shirts on with his favorite leather jacket over it. His jeans are well worn and faded not those designer ones that only look used. He has on his riding boots, which of course give him another inch or so of height. Which he loves. Opening my eyes I see him about 6 feet away and I see he still has his riding gloves on.

I determinedly walk towards him only to hear Mark scream, his feet slapping, or at least I hope it’s his feet. He yells, “Yeah right, you prude-like you would ever-“

I reach said hot guy and say, “I’m kissing you in two seconds. One, two.”

I fist my hand in his shirt and pull him closer to me. Except he doesn’t move, so I look up into his eyes and arch a brow, he arches his, which causes me to roll my eyes and I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell when grins. With his hands on my hips pulls me into his hard body, throwing me off balance. I slip my arms around him lift my head and his lips slam onto mine. Ok, point proven. Yet, as I lean back to break the kiss, I feel two arms encompass me, hold me close and reposition me.

His mouth re-angles on mine, I feel myself lifted on my tip toes. Omg, the heat of his body is amazing. I didn’t even realize I was cold sitting out here but against his body I felt like was next to a heater. His tongue pushes past my lips and, well, I stopped thinking for a full minute, hell maybe minutes. It was that good of a kiss. Shit. His tongue stroked mine, made me shiver and then he nipped my lip causing a groan. I literally could feel him smile and I was going to move back when his hand fisted in my hair and he started to kiss my neck and holy crap! I think my knees buckled but it didn’t matter because he picked me up and my legs were suddenly wrapped around his waist. His hands were supporting my weight but I think they were actually under my dress. My hands were in his hair and digging into his shoulder respectively. Well. Hell.

I don’t know how long that went on for when suddenly I hear Mark right next to us yelling, “That’s enough.”

Slowly pulling back, his gravelly voice questions, “Outta here or are we continuing the show? Just to be clear, I’m good with either decision.” He then arches that fucking brow.

Face flaming, I whisper, “Let’s go. Please.”

Eyes on me, he nods. “What’s asshole’s name?”

“Mark.”

Nodding he raises his voice, “Hey Mark, fuck off and if I ever see you again, you’re dead.”

A girl in just a string bikini bottom steps in front of us, drawing our attention. Her hand is gliding down her chest when she looks right at him, throatily murmuring, “Wanna upgrade?”

He laughs, “Um already did. Let’s go Pidge.”

He moves his hands and I lower my legs. He instantly laces his fingers with mine and pulls me to the path back to the front. “Keith! You can’t say that! You know about Mark being dead meat.”

“Just did.”

“Why, what, are you even doing here?”

As he places his helmet on my head and carefully tightens the straps, “I saw Shiro’s phone buzz, so I looked. It seemed like something that couldn’t wait. So here I am.”

Blinking I nod, “Okay. I said I had an Uber coming.”

“Saw, don’t care. I, um, didn’t like the idea of you being here when you didn’t want to be. So yeah, deal.”

“But why didn’t you respond?”

“I pinged your location to my phone and left. Didn’t think about it honestly.”

“What if I was gone?”

He shrugged as we approached his bike, which was on the lawn! “As long as you were safe.”

He then takes off his coat, slipping it around my shoulders, “Arms in, it’s cold when we start moving.” Eyes on her legs, fingers play with her skirt, brushing her thighs. “I can’t do anything about your legs though. Let me know if you need a break. We can stop as often as you need.”

I nod, and as we drive into the night, my arms tight around his waist, I can’t help but smile. Keith Fucking Kogane. Damn this boy can kiss. Maybe there is hope for my love life after all. I feel his hand cover my hand on his abdomen, squeeze and drift down to my leg. I squeeze him a little tighter and I know it’s just my imagination but I swear I can hear his laughter.

My hero.

#katie holt #keith kogane #kidge #alternate realities

[prorevenge]

Falsely Accused of Cheating, Then Dumped

Date: April 2, 2009, a couple days after I turned 30.

I had been dating a wonderful girl, we’ll call her Ratchet, for almost 3 years. And we were good together, I really did see her as my soul mate. We weren't living together yet, but I was just a few weeks away from popping the question. However, as plans will be plans will go awry.

Enter my friend (we’ll call him Skidmark), who I'd known since freshman year at a well known university, he was also a fraternity brother and someone I'd be proud to call a real brother. This is the guy I would've asked to be my best man, and not as it's often portrayed in cheesy romantic comedies or whatever. That is, until his act of betrayal when he told Ratchet (A LIE) that I cheated on her. Also, he had no evidence of said infidelity.

How did this play out? Ratchet had been staying at my place for the past couple days and I arrived home to find her packing her things. When she saw me, she started shouting at me. A lot of it was hard to make out, other than the profanity but here's what I did remember:

"How could you do this to us"

"I can't believe you"

"Skidmark told me everything"

I attempted to interject a few times, almost in tears in one point when I shouted, "Just listen to me for a second!" but she just got all pissy that I yelled at her, and walked out after telling me to get fucked.

So obviously I called Skidmark a few times, left a voicemail asking WTF he told her and wanting to know why he dragged me through the mud like that. The next morning I went over to his apartment - to find that he moved a couple days ago. How convenient.

The next day, I get a call from another good friend of mine (he was a solid guy, so let’s call him Solid - we met at the same university/fraternity) and it went something like this:

"Um, are you sitting down"

"No, what do you want to tell me"

"When did you break up with Ratchet?"

"I didn't, Skidmark told her that I cheated on her and she walked out on me"

"I just drove past that dive in your old neighborhood, she's with him. They were all smiles, holding hands and everything - I was wondering what was ..."

(I disconnected)

So it doesn’t take the guys from True Detective to figure out that he orchestrated this from beginning to end, and his prize was a new girlfriend – now my ex.

At the time, it felt like this backstabbing bastard destroyed my life.

Fast forward to six weeks later ….

On a Friday night Solid went to a popular bar/club in the area to hang out and throw down a few brews. And who do you think walks in about 15 minutes later.

Why, it was Skidmark!

It was a pretty large bar, and Solid apparently did a pretty good job of not being seen, even though he did see a few things:

Skidmark went in alone, but he's talking to some girl maybe 5 minutes later. A few minutes later, he buys her a drink. A few minutes after that, they're on the dance floor.

A few minutes after that .... let's say Skidmark could have gotten arrested if he didn't have consent to put his hands where they were.

Keep in mind, Solid has already sent me several texts about what's been going on. At one point he included several photos of the handsy dancers. In the last photo Skidmark was kissing the girl.

And now he must be melting his phone with how fast the texts are coming in.

"You gotta nail this guy, Ratchet needs to know what's going on!"

"Shit he almost saw me!"

"I had to skip out of there, but I've done enough damage heh heh"

"He was kissing her in that last one, wanna bet he'll go all the way?"

This is where the plan comes together. I tell him to get in touch with Ratchet, and ask her to meet him (about something urgent) at a coffee shop close to where he lives. Note: his place was over 30 min away from where I lived, so hopefully Ratchet wouldn't be suspicious. I recommended a coffee shop because it's a public place with outdoor seating.

Sunday morning, May 17:

I remember everything about this encounter – what I was wearing, what she was wearing, what it smelled like, it’s permanently etched in my memory. I approached a couple minutes after they sat down. Once Ratchet saw me, her face physically changed, and she immediately got up to leave. Solid reached out and grabbed her arm before saying "You owe me, remember? Sit down and listen!"

She reluctantly sits down, and with a very pissy look on her face she asks, "What do YOU want, Parkesc?" ***

I respond, "What he said, sit down and listen" and I ask to borrow his phone so I can call up Skidmark. I hand him mind and tell him to pull up the photos when I give him the signal.

Here’s how the conversation went:

Skidmark answers with "Sup Solid"

I respond, with the speakerphone on, "Well hey buddy!"

There’s a brief pause followed by “uuuh”

“No it’s Parkesc. I hope you don’t mind; I’m using Solid’s phone since mine’s dead.”

(Keep in mind, Skidmark’s voice in the rest of this conversation is pretty sheepish)

“Long time no see man, what’s been going on?”

“A whole lot’s been going on, actually. How was Friday night?”

“How was Friday night?”

“Yeah”

“Why would you ask man … I mean I … I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah I think we both know why you haven’t seen me in a while, but anyway, Solid told me he saw you at the bar the other night, getting down with some hottie.”

“Who said that”

“Solid, you know, our fraternity brother from (that university). And, ummmm, he saw you. With that girl. And he may or may not have taken some pictures.”

“What?”

By the way, Ratchet’s eyes are getting pretty big right now, Solid is motioning her to be quiet. She mouthed the words WHAT THE FUCK as he began to open my phone and go to the pics.

“Yeah I got a LOT of pictures. And you know, I think I can guess who would like to see them.”

“Cmon man, don’t do this man. Why you doin this, man? Why you doin this?”

“What are you kidding me? We haven’t spoken in over a month because you lied to my girlfriend that I was in love with and planning to marry. Now you’re messing around behind HER back.”

“Man it isn’t like I was trying to steal her, man.”

“WELL MAYBE YOU CAN TELL ME WHAT YOU WERE TRYING TO DO, because Solid also mentioned he saw you two together. That was TWO DAYS after she walked out on me.”

“It’s not like that man, and you’re not gonna anything. I know you’re mad, but, cmon man.”

There was a brief pause, and my brain almost did a Ctrl-Alt-Delete after that auditory fuckpoop.

“No, you don’t know. And I’m not gonna CMON MAN.”

“Are you kidding me, you’re really gonna …”

“I’m doing this – right now, in fact. You’ve been on speaker the whole time, and Solid isn’t the only person here with me.”

“WHAT?”

And finally Ratchet chimed in.

“I cannot even believe you did this. What the hell? You’ve totally ….totally been lying to me and now you're cheating on me too?"

“No, no, no it wasn’t ….. FUCK! Really, Parkesc?”

“Basically, they’ve shown me all the pictures, I’ve been looking at them this whole time. What’s wrong with you, Skidmark??”

“I didn’t even know her.”

“What you mean, you didn’t know her??”

“Ok, you know what, fuck you Parkesc!”

And then Solid says his piece:

"WHOA WHOA WHOA, first of all, dude, you stole your best friend's girl with a BS lie, you just admitted it, and you're cheating on her anyhow!"

"Fine, whatever, it didn’t mean anything ….”

Ratchet responds with "Oh Please!” before she hangs up on him and turns toward me. She hands the phone back to Solid and he gives me back my phone with half a smile and a raised eyebrow. He probably expected a gratifying end to this escapade.

“Parkesc I am really sorry, I made a mistake. Is there any way ...."

“Stop right there!” I abruptly interject, with a sharp glare in my eye.

They’re both in shock.

“No, you never believed me, didn’t listen to one word I had to say. And you had no evidence, you just took that fuckhead’s word and walked out on me. Was it worth it?”

Solid was pretty much catatonic, stunned into silence. By the time I was halfway back to my car, I could have sworn I heard Ratchet starting to cry. I wouldn’t know because I refused to look back.

*** By the way, you’re probably wondering what the asterisks were for. Up until that point, there was still a snowflake’s chance in hell that Ratchet and I would get back together. When she didn’t even want to hear me out (yet again), I was done. I just didn’t let her know until I was finished with Skidmark.

I never heard from either of them again. Good riddance.

(source) story by (/u/parkesc)

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

[join-the-joywrite]

Hamish & Vera soulmate au headcannons

Part two of the first words au suggested by my girl, Sima, as demanded requested.

I am Not Happy about this

I'm a very big fan of saying "fuck canon" in favour of my otp happening but honestly ,,,,, the pain is too great to pass up so here we go.

It took months for Hamish to properly open up verbally. When he did, Vera asked about the ring. He told her all about Cassie and Nico, save the bit about the Knights.

It was a few more months when Hamish started visiting the old places he used to love to favourite with Cassie, but they still weren't the same. He didn't mind, though. They were just places now. Places that held pleasant memories. Now, important places are where he goes with Vera.

Hamish is on his way to meeting Vera when he runs into Randall Carpio. The man is crazy, Hamish first thinks. Then, he'd make a good knight.

"Who's the lovely lady? Hi, I'm Randall Carpio, and you are?"

"Taken."

"Damnit, Hamish!"

Vera finds him endearing, somewhat, as one would a toddler. Two days later, Hamish decides to invite Randall into the Knights. Greybeard chooses him and they celebrate. It feels good to have someone to talk to about things only a Knight would understand. He thought about Vera, but after Cassie, he didn't think he could handle it. Besides, Randall looks like he'd take on a wolf without being one of them. He's perfect for the job.

Hamish knocks on Vera's door late one night.

"Are you okay?" "Can I stay here tonight? Please."

Vera obviously lets him in.

"You ever meet someone and you know they've done nothing wrong at all, but it feels like they're trying to replace someone you've lost?" Vers tries a joke, "This isn't about me and Cassie, is it?" Thankfully, Hamish finds the joke funny. "You, no. Cassie, yes. Randall's made this friend and honestly there's nothing wrong with her but . . . it's like she's wearing Cassie's favourite jacket and I can't get her to take it off."

Hamish intentionally leaves out the part where he was the one who opened the doors for Lilith. Vera would find the metaphor much more impactful if she knew Hamish meant Timber.

Hamish doesn't talk much about Lilith to Vera, though it's not as if they get a chance to talk at all. Now with Randall and Lilith knighted, Hamish has found purpose outside of Vera -- taking down the Order. They were what got Nico killed and they were what got Cassie killed. Hamish knew the Order was the bad magic he's supposed to fight. In addition, Vera's just been made Temple Magus and it is a lot more more work than she'd anticipated. Not to mention, having the university in her jurisdiction included attaining the seat of Chancellor. Fuck the social life, I guess.

At least they're always able to come home to each other.

Unfortunately, that too starts falling apart.

Hamish gets pulled deeper and deeper into uncovering the Order with Randall and Lilith, slowly figuring out how to find the pledges and get rid of them. Since he'd told Vera about Cassie, talking about the departed Knight becomes easier. He struggles a bit to explain it all to Randall, but he's able to speak properly and tell Lilith all about Cassie. When Hamish reveals that Cassie had been Timber's champion, Lilith understands. She is harsh and brash and often rude, but she also has a heart to love, no matter how guarded and hidden. She makes an effort to distinguish herself from Timber and from Cassie. Hamish makes an effort to see Lilith instead of Cassie's replacement. Once they succeed on that, their relationship improves tenfold. (Randall is relieved. He was worried his days as a Knight were gonna be filled to the brim with tension and loathing)

Vera gets pulled deeper into the Order. She's sucked into the position she's been granted and no matter how much she tries to leave it for a break now and then, something or the other pulls her back. It doesn't help that the pledges decrease in number every year due to at least one of them dying.

By the time Jack Morton makes his way to Belgrave, things have quite nearly fallen apart. Hamish has stopped visiting an empty house. Vera's stopped trying to call when she finally leaves the temple, only to reach the voicemail of a sleeping Hamish, who's stopped trying to send texts every odd hour.

Given that Jack never actually said Vera's name to the Knights (I believe, and if I'm wrong shhh it's an au), it's no surprise that the the earlier parts of Finals Pt.2 is slightly more comedy than pain. (Let's assume Lilith never mentions Vera's name upon regaining her memories either)

Let it also be known that I, for the life of me, cannot recall how the entire scene plays out, so we just gonna make it up as we go along =)

Hamish is down in the basement when Jack brings a new ally to the den. An injured Lilith is there.

"Miss Bathory." "Bitch." "Fair enough."

Randall is in next, excited to see Lilith back in the den. "Hey! I knew you weren't dead!"

"Randall?" "Vera! Heyyyyy, long time no see, huh? Wh -- what . . . what are you doing here?" "You -- you're one of them? The werewolves?" "Shiiiiiiiit, you know?? Wait, you're not like,, in the Order, are you?" "How long have you been a werewolf?" *guilty face* "FROM THE START????"

Lilith & Jack: 🤨 wtf is happening here

Hamish returns. "Guys, who's. . ." Hamish stares at Vera. For a while, he wonders how she found the den. Then he wonders what she's doing at the den. Then he recalls Jack mentioning that he was bringing an unlikely ally. He'd figured unlikely ally meant someone in the Order. ". . . here?"

Vera shoots Jack a glare. "What the fuck is this, Mr Morton?"

"Uhh . . . I didn't-- I wasn't aware you guys were, uh . . . friends?"

Hamish is still staring at Vera. "This what you've been doing for years? Magic? The Order? That promotion . . . it wasn't about the chancellor position, was it?"

(Lil bit of comedy = Randall: WAIT, SHE'S THE TEMPLE MAGUS??????)

"You say magic like it's evil. Have you ever once thought about the fact that you've been murdering my pledges every year since Miss Bathory was expelled from the Order? Which is more evil, Hamish, protecting magic or killing its practitioners?"

"Your people got Cassie and Nico killed," Hamish hisses, "those practitioners you're protecting are the reason Cassie and Nico died. Magic. Is. Evil."

"Magic isn't evil! I was barely a Magistratus when your ex-girlfriend was killed! Do you think I enjoyed all those respondeo incantations? Wh-- why do you think I started spending so much time at the temple? Making sure I stayed Temple Magus? I am trying to make the Order better. But you? All you care about is murdering my Neophytes. Children."

(Randall: intense wincing as his parents fight. Jack & Lilith: perplexed but very invested in the drama. Jack's a lil upset that he's got plans to go and confront Edward. He kinda wanted to see the rest of that argument.)

"Oh, that's rich, V," Hamish snaps. Despite the clear rage radiating off of Hamish, Vera isn't afraid. The nickname is familiar and welcome. It's home. Hamish, no matter how far he is from her, is home. Doesn't mean she's not got her own barrel of problems to spill.

"Rich?? I'm not the one out here killing people before they get the chance to even live. You -- you -- you are -- you're a monster, you know that?" She says it factually, as if it's something common knowledge.

"Really, V? Are we doing this now?" "Might as well! If we're all going to die, I'm not going down without getting everything out. You know, while we're on the topic of being brutally honest before we die, Mr Morton, your sense of style is horrendous, Miss Bathory, your temper is infuriating and Randall . . . you -- you -- your jokes are lame!"

Funny enough, Randall is most offended. And then Lilith has his attention because she's hurt. "Can you help?" "I don't trust her." "I don't recall caring, do you want me to save your life or not?"

Hamish is pissed as Vera turns to help Lilith. Amusingly, he's pissed because Vera isn't paying him any attention. But there are more pressing matters, like the incoming army. "We have company."

"Fucking Kepler," Vera mutters.

Both Hamish and Randall squint at Vera. "Bitsy Kepler?" "Isn't she a bit . . . fickle and stupid to be in the Order?"

"Oh, you know Kepler too?" Lilith asks, more of a rhetorical question.

"No, V just complained about her a lot." "Don't call me that, Randall." "Sorry."

"They are circling the house. What are they up to?" "Knowing Kepler, something unoriginal."

*sounds of the order throwing burning spells.* The look of awe on Hamish's face as he watches Vera cast a protection spell does not escape Randall and Lilith.

"How long is that gonna last?" "Long enough for us to deal with them."

Vera is already following an undressing Hamish to the doors. "No killing." "No promises."

Lilith stares at the empty doorway. "Are we going to talk about th--" "Nope. Not at all. Never. Anything else. Anything but whatever just transpired."

When they get into the temple and set the Vade Maecum alight, Hamish thinks maybe it isn't so bad. Maybe Vera's right, maybe she can turn the Order around. Maybe magic isn't evil. Vera takes his hand. He gives hers a little reassuring squeeze. Come hell or high water, he'll always come back to her.

It's what soulmates do.

"So, Grand Magus, huh?" "Mhm." "I didn't think you remembered this spot exists."

Vera, despite her new persona of professionalism and perfection, gets down on the grass beside Hamish. She looks at him carefully. Is she doing the right thing? Probably not. But will it keep him safe from her and the Order? More likely than not.

"What is it, V?"

"Nothing. Just thinking."

"About?"

"Us. What happened to us?"

"Magic," Hamish jokes, lightly tapping his forehead against hers. I missed you.

Vera squeezes his hand twice. I love you.

Hamish closes his eyes. So much trust he has in Vera that despite knowing she's on the other side of the great divide between the Knights and the Order, he still trusts her enough to be around her blind. Vera's guilt starts eating at her insides already. It makes her sick, but she hasn't got a better choice. The alternative is allowing the order to launch an attack on the Knights -- and if the Order could kill werewolves before, they can kill them again. Vera never wants to feel the pain Hamish felt after losing Cassie.

This is losing him, but at least she knows he's alive and safe. Safe from the Order, from magic, from all of Belgrave's dirty little secrets.

She wants to be the one to monitor him, but Grand Magus duties steal her time and attention worse than Temple Magus did. She hates having to leave him in the hands of one of the Medicums, but she can't exactly do it herself, despite wanting to.

"I thought I was the quiet one," Hamish jokes.

"Shh. Some . . . peace and quiet is welcome."

"V, are you--" Vera quickly claps her hand over his eyes. "Sh. Don't . . . don't say anything. Don't open your eyes. I just . . . I just want to see you for a moment."

Hamish smiles and complies. Vera fights to keep her shaking breath quiet. She lowers her hand slowly. Could she spare time for one last kiss? Just one? No. One would never be enough. And she knows that if Hamish kisses her now, her entire resolve will break.

She squeezes his hand twice. I love you.

Before he can respond, Vera blows the powder in his face. She sits up slowly. Dear God, she was sure she'd done something horrible in a past life to warrant this kind of torture. At least for Hamish, losing Cassie hadn't been the product of his own making.

"Your name is Hamish Duke. You go to Belgrave University. You're a TA and -- and you study psychology. Forget the Hermetic Order of the Blue Rose. Forget the Knights of Saint Christopher. Forget . . . Vera Stone."

Vera pulls him up. "Hey, that looked like a nasty fall. Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm okay, I think. Thanks."

"Sure." Vera can't help the two subtle squeezes she gives his hand before leaving. I love you. She doesn't want to be there when Selena Durov leaves her class and arrives. She doesn't want to see what Selena says to Hamish, what lies she feeds him and what she does. Vera wants to lock herself in her office and never see another person again.

Hamish frowns as he watches her leave. He wondered what had happened to her that her eyes were so sad. Part of him want to run after her and ask her. Ask her name at the very least. But something keeps him rooted to the spot where he stands.

Who was she and why did he feel like she'd said something very important?

Hamish holds his own wrist for a moment, feeling the ghost of her touch. The slight squeezes he thought he'd imagined.

I love you.

Who the hell was she? And why did he feel like he really ought to know her.

Part 3

Did I win yet, ladies? Or do you want part 3?

@gingersimasnapsandvermishthings @bakulka @everythingabouthatship

See some other soulmate aus I've tried my hand at

#vera x hamish #hamish duke #hamish x vera #vera stone #the order #netflix #the hermetic order of the blue rose #the knights of st christopher #the knights of the blue rose #the knights of saint christopher #soulmate #soulmate aus #please just give me the soulmate au i want

[skullsnsunbeams]

Please enjoy the first part of my commentary of Outer Banks. I'm going to post eps. 6 through 10 in a second post so as to keep within the text limit. Disclaimer: I started this show because I wanted to see what all the hype was; I won't lie, I thought it was dumb and cliche throughout most of it. However, since I've finished I can safely say that I NEED A SECOND SEASON BC HOLY FUCK BRO. Don't come at me for MY OPINIONS, & also, most of what I say is in the spur of the moment. If you wanna come talk to me about the show I will GLADLY DO SO

Ep 1:

• Ragtag group of friends, including a girl that the 3 other guys wanna bang, and she's also a rich girl but she "doesn't fit in" with that crowd so she hangs with the down and out guys

• "Kid from the wrong side of the tracks falls for rich girl"

• A 27 year old playing a teenager, the usual

• One of the main guys in this is HOT

• In a basic white dude way

• He's the asshole bad boy of the show and I want him to BRB THERE'S A FIGHT

• I bet he's a genuine good guy tho

• HE'S A DUMBASS SO NOW I'M IN LOVE

• ADINA PORTER

• The main protagonist looks like james from BTR

• His face is too small for his head

• His best friend (JJ?) moaned about 20 minutes in and I haven't been the same since

• I have to watch ep 2 to decide if I'm gonna genuinely enjoy this or hate watch

Ep. 2

• I'm getting Flight 29 Down vibes

• The narration is kinda, too much? Like if I need to be guided by it, that means the writers didn't do such a good job

• "wHaT dO yOu KnOw AbOuT tHe CoMpAsS!?"

• This Sarah chick is fucking annoying

• Annoying rich bitch wants attention and she's fucking so fucking CLICHE

• This little sister is FUCKING AGGRAVATING

• We got our sleezy bad guys, ofc

• "Ratter" ooof course that's his name

• THEY'RE STEALING SHIT

• HE JUST KILLED A CHICKEN

• I'm literally crying right now AHAHAHAH fuck

• Sarah's douche bf has HIGHLIGHTS

• His name is Topper which I ironic bc he's def a bottom

• SO FUCKING CLICHE AND I HATE IT SO MUCH AND I'M SO ANGRY ABOUT IT???

• THIS KID HAS A HACKEY SACK WHAT KINDA 2000s MOVIE IS THIS

• Why is this so dramatic

• Like for whaaaaat

• There was ONE kiss and now I wanna make out with someone wtf quarantine is killing me

• John B. is growing on me

• Curse me being for a White Man's Whore

• Oh no Ward is HOT

• Please let him turn out to be a decent man bc I don't trust rich white men as far as I can throw em

• John B runs weird????

• OHP THERE'S OUR BADDIES

• Cue Poppy's Voicemail

• My mom just came in and asked me to tone it down but I told her it's not in my nature and she said " *sigh* I know"

• FUCK THE POLICE

• don't give it to her John B

• ACAB

• I knew he wouldn't be able to give it up, we wouldn't have a show then!

• "Back in the friend zone" I'm hollering

• A snake!

• "Stop barking at the snakes" JJ IS SO DUMB

• And now Kie is going into the grave

Ep. 3

• There would be spiders everywhere realistically

• THESE DUDES ARE EVERYWHERE BRO

• Ah it's just grave diggers

• JJ. Is so. Dumb.

• Fuck bro I'm cryin

• Pope is an angel

• Sarah needs to shut up

• Her sister also needs to shut up

• TO THE BIG KAHUNA

• Is JJ wearing a shark tooth necklace

• ONLY 900 FEET

• Dumb idiot bitch is vomiting too calmly

• This kid, Rafe? Annoying and useless

• Sarah's brother???

• HE BOUGHT A MOTORCYCLE WITH THE GENERATOR MONEY WHAT A PRIVILEGED CUNT

• He's a drug dealer, ofc he is

• ANOTHER CLICHE

• Creepy security guard. Wonderful.

• Always gotta help the young pretty girl

• JJ lying about being abused, or is he really? Either way it's lowkey smart

• HE'S LYING. HIS FAKE CRYING? BELIEVABLE. KUDOS TO YOU, JJ

• That is a human hand

• They're gonna get hurt lmao

• Yayo? Tf is yayo? Some slang for coke?

• I googled it, it's Spanish slang for cocaine lmaoooo I'm dumb

• TOPPER SAID I LOVE YOU AND SARAH DIDN'T SAY IT BACK

• Mmmmmm love when guys get MAD because she took back her yes!!!

• "Tastes like bananas"

• I don't like this kid but I feel bad that he was pressured into this

• POPE LIKES KIE

• Dead bodies oh yeah

• AND THE THUNDER ROLLS

• Ofc Rafe is causing problems

• I think Topper isn't so bad and may just be a product of his environment

• Nevermind FUCK HIM FOR HURTING POPE

• Those surfing shots are cool

• Little fishies

• Pope is so cute and adorable

• THAT'S A BIG STORM

• Uh uh, no thank you

• They're gonna lose the camera

• Do you ever have anxiety

• Oh shiiiit there she is

Ep. 4

• John B has pretty freckles

• "On what grounds?" "On solid grounds, on holy grounds" (ON THE GROUNDS OF BROOKLYN, YOUR HONOR)

• Wait how old is he, even?

• HE DO BE RUNNIN

• Poor Jorge

• That was a very fake jump

• "That's not ideal" he's such a goob

• "Why is this my fault?" "Because it usually is." Oof

• Rafe just said Pope needs to take some personal responsibility. IS HE LISTENING TO HIMSELF? THE IRONY

• This bitch.....is putting rubbing alcohol on the wound? Not peroxide?

• He slapped her hand I'm crying

• I'm sorry but bitches need to mind their business

• I S2G IF THEY HURT POPE I WILL END THEM

• This is so messy

• Why did I think she was gonna flash the guy

• Rafe def likes Kie

• "It might go down tonight" I love this over dramatic shit

• Ward was poor once too, wah wah

• John B is going crazy

• Well the sharks didn't do shit

• Ofc they're going shopping

• "I'll sugar mama you"

• This is actually funny, but I can feel the tension

• "You almost killed him HAHAHAHAH" shut the fuck up you pussy bitch

• Aw he shook the librarian's hand what a good bub

• Of course the stupid rich mom wants to press charges

• FUCK THIS IS BULLSHIT

• JJ I LOVE YOU

• YOU'RE DUMB BUT I LOVE YOU

Ep. 5

• So there was a kiss. Nice.

• JJ's dad is gonna beat his ass and Susan is gonna feel bad

• YUP THERE IT IS. THAT'S A LOT OF BLOOD.

• I wanna hug JJ so bad

• Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...

• DIRTY COPS

• AW THAT HUG, THAT SMOOCH. I LOVE JJ AND POPE

• I hope Rafe d*es

• The dude who plays Topper is a good actor

• JJ IS SO DUMB I LOVE HIM

• Denmark Tanny was a G

• John B do B lyin

• Ward knows, ofc he fucking knows

• A SAFE BEHIND THE PAINTING

• OH MY GOD WARD WAS THE ONE WHO KILLED THOSE GUYS

• ahhhh drinking and driving love it

• Topper is about to do some moronic shit

• She's not there, she did the pillows under the covers trick

• OH NO IT'S HER SISTER

• "I'm not a jealous guy" sure

• He's spilling his heart out rn

• HE'S LYING TO KIE'S FACE

• Ofc Wheezie snitched, again

• Topper looks like he's gonna murder someone

• BRO HE JUST FELL????

• Did your "short fuse" make you murder those dudes?

• He's gonna be a KOOK

• UH UH, WARD IS SUS

#emily rambles #emily watches #outer banks #obx #outer banks spoilers #obx spoilers #netflix outer banks #outer banks netflix #netflix original #netflix original series #obx liveblog #obx lb #sorta

[notagoodplace4gods]

ok but stozier where (this is overuse prob so sorry) rich starts really believing stan doesnt like him in their late teens bc of anxiety and stuff and starts to distance and heyoo flippin the script w/ stan coming in through the window like “wtf man??? ur literally my best friend ily” and then like back to stans and its just pure fluff bc heyo these boys mad in love and richies just like “holy shit ily wowowowoow” yike sorry ~✨

I’m so sorry for taking so long!! This is not exactly what you asked for, but I still hope you’ll like it! Here we go!

It’s on AO3

when stan starts avoiding richie after they went to prom together as bros, richie knows he’s fucked up

he doesn`t know how he fucked up, tho, because he was drunk as hell and he barely remembers what happened

when stan starts avoiding richie after they go to prom together as bros, richie knows he’s fucked up

he doesn’t know how he fucked up, tho, because he was drunk as hell and he barely remembers what happened

the losers can’t tell him what he did because “stan didn’t let you do anything embarrassing, he took you home the moment he realized you were drunk”

richie makes eddie pinky swear that he didn’t see him make a fool of himself at prom

Relieved by his answer, richie starts thinking that maybe stan’s just messing with him Maybe it’s just a joke and he decides to play along

“well let’s see how long he can pretend not to love me lol he won’t last a week”

stan lasts more than a week not talking to richie, barely acknowledging him in the group hangs

richie is low key worried and grows louder so he can draw stan’s attention by any means necessary, which means cruder jokes, over the top impressions, dirty flirting, but stan keeps ignoring him

richie goes from frustrated to angry really fast

and he complains about Stan to everyone, literally everyone but Stan The Man himself

“we don’t know anything richie, why don’t you talk to him?”

richie tries cornering stan after school one day, but stan keeps dodging his questions and answering with “I’m fine”s, which only pisses richie even more because he knows stan isn’t fine

“come on stanley I know you’re angry at me! what did i do?”

“why do you think the world revolves around you, richie? you didn’t do anything and we’re fine.”

“we’re not fine! God, stan, just tell me what I did so I can fix it! Was it because I drank too much and you had to take me home? Was it because I made you leave the prom earlier?”

“what? no richie, that was fine and… Wait, don’t you remember what happened later?” stan takes a deep breath and tries to mask the hurt on his voice. “You don’t.”

“I was drunk… I…”

“Sure, it’s okay, we’re okay, nothing happened, I just have to go.”

richie tries to stop him by grabbing his arm, but stan flinches away so fast richie’s freezes on the spot. Now he’s high key worried

now he knows he’s fucked up.

——————

richie kinda starts avoiding stan back after this, afraid he’ll make  things worse between them

he never asks the losers to intervene, but everytime he meets them, he asks if stan said anything about him

the losers have no idea what’s happening, and they hate it, so they make a plan to get both richie and stan drunk and talking

it’s very difficult getting them together, and moving past the awkwardness, but they do get them drunk, they all get drunk, one night at bill’s. and they’re playing truth or dare

when the bottle stops on stan, richie perks up at the possibility of stan picking truth so he can ask what did he do to make his best friend so mad at him

stan picks dare

for a moment richie’s devastated, but then ben whispers something in his ear and he takes his suggestion.

“I dare you to tell me why you’re mad at me.”

“that’s cheating.”

“It’s the game, you have to tell me.”

“I’m not mad at you.”

“you are! just fucking tell me what i did!

“what didn’t you do, richie?” stan rolls his eyes. “you’re always so…” The alcohol is taking the words from him, so he just gestures at richie’s entire body, to make him understand. “You! It drives me crazy!”

richie’s taken aback. He knows he’s loud and annoying, but he never thought he bothered stan so much “I’m… I’m sorry,”

when they stop talking, the entire room does too. The only sound is when mike gets up, pulling bill along with him and gesturing the others to follow him. “Maybe we should leave you two alone.”

“no!” both stan and richie argue at the same time.

richie takes a deep breath. “come on, stan the man, I just wanna put this behind us and go back to being friends.”

“Friends.” Stan scoffs, and there’s so much venom in his voice, richie unconsciously recoils. “we’re best fucking friends”

richie doesn’t know what to answer, oh even what to feel, so he choses anger. “Fine! Have it your way then” and marches out of the party.

when richie’s anger drains away, he’s just really sad and hurt

the losers go to him the next day, begging him to talk to stan, saying that stan was miserable after he left the party, so “he doesn’t hate you.”

but richie just shrugs them off. stan does hate him. it was clear as day

but what could he have done that would upset stan so much? What was so terrible that ruined their friendship?

he tries his best to remember what happened after stan took him from the prom. He thinks about numerous possibilities, but nothing seems plausible

richie knows very well that he’s a cuddly, needy drunk. But Stan knows him, he’s used to the flirty jokes, the innocent (but not really) touches, and hugs

He remembers he always used to  call stan “love” and “honey” after a few shots, he remembers sitting on stan’s lap and throwing his arms around stan’s neck in other occasions, he remembers stan just shaking his head, lifting him up and making him drink some water before bed. Stan always acted annoyed but he never minded any of that

Not until prom night

Maybe richie crossed a line. Maybe he didn’t stop at the playful flirting and dirty innuendos. Maybe he drank so much, he turned his brain off, and let his heart unfiltered. Maybe he confessed. Maybe he told stan he’d been in love with him for years. Maybe he kissed stan

Oh fuck. oh no no no no nonononono

no wonder stan hates him now. no wonder he’s angry and disgusted and never wants to see richie again

richie wants to crawl up inside a hole and just die

—————-

richie knows stan has stopped hanging out with the others, so he does too

he secretly hopes that his absence will compel stan to return to the group

if anyone gets to keep the losers, if anyone deserves to keep the losers, it’s stan

plus, if stan finds his presence so unbearable, and hates him now, it’s just a matter of time before everyone else does too. If he can’t stop it from happening, then he better prepare himself for it

so he goes from school to home, and from home to school as quickly as he can, he avoids the quarry and the arcade so he won’t meet any of them

He misses them all, though. So much

But mostly he misses Stan

His best friend

the first friend he ever made

the boy with the sarcastic smiles and amazing sense of humour

the boy who always stood by him no matter what

the boy who’d always leave an open window for him to climb into at night

the boy who’d complain about how his bed was too small for them, but would never push richie away, or make him sleep on the couch

the shy quiet beautiful perfect boy richie admired and respected so much

the boy who’d smile at him, and make the stupid bucky beaver and his stupid trash mouth feel worthy and loved and worthy of being loved.

the boy he loved so much

the boy who didn’t love him back, not anymore

not ever

richie wonders if maybe stan misses him too, but the thought is so fucking unreal, he has to laugh.

all the handholding, the laughs, hugs, kisses on the cheek, richie ruined them

richie ruined their friendship

so why would it matter to stan

why would richie matter

spoiler alert: he doesn’t

richie’s loud and annoying and ugly as hell

stan deserves someone better

literally anyone would be better

probably a girl because stan can’t be as sick as he is

——————

the losers keep trying to talk to him, but he always manages to dodge their questions

Everyone is worried because richie looks awful ™ so they decide to do a intervention for them

but richie doesn’t show up to school the next day

Or the next

they’re going crazy with worry, because richie won’t answer his door either

stan is very worried too.

he feels terrible for how he treated richie the past few weeks. He was just sad, angry and bitter, but richie didn’t deserve the way he treated him

he tries calling richie on the phone, but every call goes to voicemail

stan knows it’s his fault.  He was the one who started ignoring richie first, but he’s so worried

He’s on edge all the time, can’t sleep properly, can’t eat properly, god, he’s a mess

He almost trips over himself when his own phone rings. Please be richie, he prays

It’s not richie

——————

bev is the one who gets richie to leave the house. she takes him for a smoke by the barrens

she told him it would just be the two of them

she lied

three cigarettes in, Stan arrives, and Bev excuses herself, mentally asking richie if he’ll forgive her someday

Stan quietly sits down next to richie, who refuses to look at him

They stay like this for a good half an hour. Stan looking at richie, richie looking anywhere but at stan

stan is about to cry, but he swallows the tears. This isn’t about him! This is about his best friend, who’s looking small and broken, and he has to fix it. He has to fix them

“I’m sorry.” He opens his mouth, but the words aren’t his. They are richie’s.

Richie’s apologizing to him

“fuck, stan, I think I finally know what I did to make you hate me, and, god, I’m so sorry.”

stan is speechless, terrified at the thought that maybe richie does remember that night

“I was never going to tell you, I was going to ignore it until it went away, but it’s been years, and it still hadn’t gone away, and I… I’m a horrible person… not worthy of being your friend

stan is offended. “Richie…”

“no… let me finish. I know what I did is unforgivable, and heinous and sick. And I’m so very sorry, but I can’t fix this. So it’s okay if you hate me and never want to see me again.I understand”

“richie!” Stan grabs his shoulders and shakes him a little.”What is it you think you did at prom?”

“you don’t have to do this.” richie shakes his head. “I know I… I kissed you. Didn’t I?.”

Now Stan starts crying. “No. no you didn’t.”

richie’s eyes go so wide it would be comical in any other situation

“Fuck. then you’re just mad at me for a stupid joke, or whatever and I went and spilled my feelings for you, instead of just apologizing. Now you hate me for real, and…”

“I don’t hate you, I never did and I never will.” Stan cuts him off.

richie nods dumbly, not letting himself feel relief because the fact stan doesn’t hate him does not necessarily means that stan likes him back.

“Do you wanna know what you did that made me so mad?” Stan waits for richie’s nod before continuing. If richie said what stan thinks he said, telling him about this should be easy. “You fell asleep.” It’s not

silence

richie does his best not to break it because he knows stan’s not finished

“I took you home, and tried to get you to bed. You didn’t want to. You wanted to dance.” Stan smiles at the memory. “I asked what could i possibly do to convince you to go to sleep and you asked me to cuddle you.”

richie cringes. well that was embarrassing

but it’s not the end of the story

“so I did. we laid down at your bed, and we were so close, I…” Now it’s stan’s turn to take a deep breath. “I kissed you, Richie. I kissed you, you kissed me back, but then you fell asleep mid kiss and I…”

richie’s heart stops, and he finally looks directly into stan’s eyes

“I was so ashamed, I couldn’t face you after this.” now it’s stan who diverts his eyes. “And then you told me you didn’t remember and I was so hurt, so angry. I mean, I knew you were drunk, I took a chance, but I still… God, richie, you were my first kiss.”

“stan.” richie kneels, and moves next to his friend, his best friend, the boy who, for whatever reason, loves him back, and takes his face on his hands. “stan, I’m sorry I’m so stupid.”

“It’s okay, richie.” Stan tries. “You were drunk, and I shouldn’t have taken advantage of that, then felt sorry for myself and acted like a jerk, but…” Stan’s hands are shaking. “I like you more than I thought I could ever like someone, and it scared me so much, I withdrew from everyone. I avoided you like crazy because I couldn’t let you know, I couldn’t let you reject me.”

“stan.” richie calls for him again, and their eyes meet. “stan, I’m stupid, but you’re also very stupid, oh my god, we’re so stupid.” he groans. “I like you. You like me back. We like each other.” He says it, slowly, as if trying to understand.

“We do.” Stan breathes, amazed.

They only stare at each other for a moment, holding hands like their lives depend on it.

“I’m sorry.” Stan says.

“I’m sorry too.” Richie says it back.

A pause. Then. “Do I get to redo that first kiss?”

Stan pushes him over, and richie laughs

“we never really danced at prom, did we? I bet you refused to dance with me after prom too.”

“I…” Stan narrows his eyes. “Do you really wanna dance, now?”

“Sure.” richie knows stan didn’t mean it as an invitation, but he takes it anyway. He bows. Stan rolls his eyes, but doesn’t stop richie from inching closer, and closer. “Let’s redo the entire night.”

They dance for a while, no music, no rhythm. They dance until richie steps on stan’s toes, and stan pushes him away so hard richie falls on the grass

They laugh, and laugh, and laugh

(god, they both missed this so much)

“Okay, so I’m never doing that again.” stan says, but he’s smiling. “We’re done, richie.”

“not yet.” richie says, getting back up, and he looks serious

he takes a step closer

stan takes another step to meet him in the middle and his hand goes into richie’s hair

richie’s hands are trembling, but he takes them to stan’s neck

they kiss

they look at each other

they kiss again and again and again

“Don’t you dare fall asleep on me again, asshole.” Stan says, lips brushing against richie’s

“Oh, don’t worry, Stan the Man, I’m up.” He motions down to his pants. “I’ll be up all night…”

“fucking my mom, i know.” stan answers, the same time richie finishes with “fucking you.” and they look at each other, for a second.

“Fuck you, richie.” Stan is trying to look mad, but he can’t stop laughing

“Well… if you want to, sure. I can be into it.” richie doesn’t miss his mark, but before he says anything else, stan’s kissing him again

richie kisses him back

and they kiss, and kiss, and kiss for a long time.

#stozier #stozier fic #sometimes i write #richie tozier #stan uris #mine #they're aged up #another bullet point fic because i'm lazy #i love my boys so much #this got way longer than i expected asjaposkpoa

[newenglandpups]

Hi

I need to rant because I’m tired and frustrated and stressed and on the verge of a panic attack so I’m hoping if I get all this out I wont actually have one ok? 

I hate living here so much. We’ve hit full blown rainy season and I feel like I’m already noticing SAD symptoms already and it’s only been like a week. I hate our house. It feels tiny and cramped and claustrophobic. It’s so narrow that I don’t have any good space to train my own dogs in and now with it fucking raining every day, I can no longer cart all my crap around to various parks because ya know we don’t have a yard either so like I’m kinda stuck.

I’m also super frustrated with work right now. If you hadn’t heard yet I’m losing my job. Basically my boss says that with the cost of insurance and business licensing and rental fees, plus paying my commission, she’s actually losing money right now. So with that in mind and the fact that I’m going to be moving (eventually... more on that later) it doesn’t make sense for her to keep it running. Now there’s been some sketchiness before so I don’t full on believe her, but basically it means that I won’t make that much money working for myself because I’ll have to pay for all the insurance and licenses and rentals myself. But I won’t be paying anyone commission, but it does mean that I’ll essentially be making the same amount of money I’m making now. Which isn’t bad, but it’s not great. 

OH OH OH and speaking of sketchiness with my boss, last weekend was a fucking shit show. I have four classes back to back on Saturday- like literally I have 15 minutes between classes and I always have people that show up early or want to chat after class, meaning I barely have time to fucking pee or do anything besides jump from class to class. So like there’s that, but THEN. Omg. Okay so last Saturday was week 3 of all those classes (a puppy class, obedience, and two reactive rover classes). The puppy class is insanely over booked (because my boss sucks at her job), I have 10 puppies every week. We weren’t supposed to be allowing drop ins because there’s already too many puppies, but again because my boss fucking sucks at her job, last week I had THREE DROP INS. 13 goddamn puppies! OH OH OH OH AND AND AND the cut off age for puppy class is supposed to be 16 weeks. I have puppies in this class that are now fucking six months old. Unacceptable. And I literally cannot be blamed for that, because my boss did this to me. How? BECAUSE SHE SUUUUUUUUCKS. So, anyway, back to the shitshow last weekend. So the first week of class this older guy shows up with some fucking doodley thing puppy. He’s not on my list, meaning he hasn’t paid, but he’s sure his wife had paid, so because my boss suuuuuuucks I think she probably just forgot to add him and let him stay. Emailed my boss afterwards and sure enough, she apologizes and says that they were one of the first to sign up and she doesn’t know how they never got added to my client list. Uh huh. They don’t show up the second week (sent me an email, both were sick) but they show up again last weekend, this time husband and wife. Wife asks me about paying for the classes.... because she said she never paid. So I let them stay (because I can’t say no and also was dealing with the second part of this shitshow which I’ll explain in a second) and email my boss asking wtf is going on. Did she get payment from them or not? [Reminder: I MAKE COMMISSION so this is money that I’m literally losing right now.] She tries to FUCKING CALL ME while I’m teaching class. Hell. No. Girl. So I text her saying, “I don’t have time to talk with classes back to back all day, I will email you about this when I get home.” Which I do, she says she’s sorry and doesn’t know what happened and will sort it out with them so I don’t have to worry about it. It’s now Thursday. I emailed her yesterday to confirm whether this was dealt with. Haven’t heard back yet. Cool. 

Second part of the shit show was this old woman showing up at the start of class asking if I’m with [company name]. I say yes and she says that she called the business number listed on the website (my boss’s phone number) and left a voicemail because she wanted to sign up for a drop in for the puppy class, but nobody ever got back to her. NOBODY EVER CALLED HER BACK!!!! I apologized profusely, took down her info, informed her that that day’s class was unfortunately full but promised her we would get back to her ASAP. Again, this is something that is not my fault and yet I’m having to deal with it, because I’m the one who actually deals with the clients. So like that’s super fun. I email my boss about this, she says she never got a voicemail (I double checked the phone number the lady called by looking in her call log to make sure she actually did call the correct number- she did) and asks ME to get in touch with this lady about just signing up for the puppy class that starts next week instead since the Saturday one is full. I told her that she should be the one to do so (because IT’S YOUR FUCKING JOB WTF) because A) she’s the one the client contacted in the first place and B) she would have to arrange payment which I can’t do. Emailed her to follow up and see if this was resolved yesterday. Heard absolutely nothing back yet. 

I’m just so fucking frustrated. On the one hand I’m a thousand times more organized and driven than my boss is so working for myself would be way less frustrating and not the shitty disorganized mess that it is now, but on the other hand I’m going to be doing all this work only to have this business around for like 6-8 months or so. Hopefully. Really really hoping it’s no longer than that, but it may be. And that’s the other part of my frustration. I want to fucking move and I want to do it now. I could move like whenever I want because I’m a US citizen, but Mike can’t come with me. And I don’t know if I want to do the whole long distance thing again while we wait for his green card. The other option he had was to try to get a work visa, but that’s difficult because in order to get a work visa you have to have a job. And it’s hard to look for a job in a place that you A) don’t live and B) can’t legally work yet. We can’t even apply for a work visa until April because they only give out a certain number per year and they hit the cap like a few months ago. I’m going to talk to him about taking a couple weeks off in the spring so we can go to CT for a few weeks and he can job hunt. That way he’s there in person and can try to get to some interviews while he’s there. If they meet him and interview him, they may be willing to sponsor his work visa. But they also might not and the trip could be a gigantic waste of time since the work visa processing still takes a couple months, and what employer is going to be willing to wait that long when they could likely just hire someone who could start working for them ASAP? Ya know? Idk, it’s just frustrating. I haven’t even talked to Mike yet about the possibility of me moving to CT before him. Maybe I should. Idk. We could wait until we get closer to his green card processing getting done and then I could go first so at least we’re not apart for all that long. 

And then in the back of my mind is like... what if his green card gets denied? I mean we do have the whole straight white young Canadian working in the tech industry heterosexual married man privilege working to our advantage. But still... there is a chance that it gets denied for whatever reason. Honestly it wouldn’t surprise me with the giant orange dildo we have for a president right now. Also super hoping he gets impeached by the time we move because jesus h christ. Wow. 

Anyway... i’m sure nobody is even still reading this at this point. But it helps me to get all this garbage out of my system anyway. So if you are reading this thanks for sticking it out. 

Bye.  

[unhingedwordvomit]

On the first of many #metoo moments

For the better part of my life, I have been in love with someone who was manipulative and abusive. We started dating when I was 15 and he was 18, after months of me begging and pleading with my parents to let me date him (spoiler alert, they were right, and I shouldn’t have been allowed within 100 feet of this fuck). He was controlling and unhinged from pretty much the get go. He would lose his mind if I wore thongs, tight skirts, or pants with no back pockets (leggings weren’t quite a thing yet). He was extremely insecure and any guy friends I had were basically enemies of the state. If I ever dared to speak to another person with a penis, I was basically cheating on him and he would call me a fat whore and dump me. A few hours later, he would call me begging for forgiveness. I would conservatively estimate this process went on every couple of weeks. And because I was very young and very naïve, I tolerated all of it.

He told me he loved me after we had been dating for two months. I was definitely in love with him, but since it was my first foray into the love business, I didn’t say it until a few months later. The lows were frequent and very low, but the highs were also very high. One day I was a fat (115lb) whore (virgin). The next I was the love of his life. He went out of his way to make up for his shitty behavior by taking me to nice dinners and making me baked goods. I thought this was how love worked.

As I mentioned, I was 15 when we started dating. The pressure to have sex with him crept up, but I wasn’t ready. I told him this. We did everything but have sex for the first year we dated. I did whatever else he wanted, because I needed to distract him from actual, vaginal sex. I knew I was too young for sex. I knew it wasn’t the right time. I found every excuse in the book to not let this man take my virginity. But after a year, the tensions surrounding not having sex were at an all-time high. He was horny and pissed, and I was desperately grasping at reasons to not have sex. The spring after I turned 16, I went on a band trip to NYC. This was another typical ordeal with him, since I would be far away and hanging out with dudes, which was, of course, unacceptable. The whole trip was me trying to manage his emotions and keep the breakup cycle at bay. I texted him constantly and bought him a present. But it wasn’t enough, and during the long drive back home, he dumped me again. He said I didn’t really love him if I wouldn’t have sex with him (* I will return to this later). I was crushed. I was broken. I loved him so much. I didn’t want him to leave me. I didn’t want to have sex.

The day after I got back, I went over to his parents’ house (he still lived with them while in college) and we had sex. At the time, I thought it was sweet and romantic. He was very gentle and loving. In hindsight, I want to vomit. It took me well over 10 years to realize that coercion is rape. For good measure, I’ll insert the legal definition of rape in TN here. Because, as a woman, I have to constantly prove that what I’m saying is true. This is from www.rainn.org.

Let’s return to the asterisk. I endured a year of manipulation and coercion. He would say anything and everything to degrade me, to belittle me, and to make me feel guilty. He would say anything to make me feel obligated to give him sex. I resisted and resisted until he had finally worn me down. This is rape culture. When are men going to realize that no means no, not convince me? Consent is never ambiguous. Pressure is not consent. Discomfort is not consent. Why do men want to have sex with women they have to beg, belittle, and dehumanize?

He (like most men) will never admit that what happened was not consensual. Even though the legal definition of rape includes coercion, he will find a way to reconcile it in his brain to not rape. I’ve actually never confronted him about this. And since I don’t plan on talking to him ever again, I don’t think I will.

One time we broke up for a 3-4 month stint, which was our longest at that point. I started dating someone else. A very kind man. Someone who treated me like a human being. My ex had taken to stalking and harassing me and my new man, probably because he couldn’t handle the fact that he dumped me and I might’ve dated someone else. He would follow me home from work back to my dorm. He hacked into my voicemail and email and changed all my passwords. He threatened to post nude pictures and videos of me online weekly (turns out he couldn’t actually do this because I was a minor in the photos). He incessantly called me and my new man from a restricted number. All hours of the night. He and a cunt (who once pretended to be my friend) drew penises and wrote derogatory things on my car, then covered the entire thing in saran wrap. One of my most vivid memories is driving it to a car wash while sobbing. Eventually I went to the university and had some sort of no-contact order put on him. This finally stopped him. Unfortunately, I was still in love with him. Ugh. UGH. I’m still so disgusted with myself. I dumped my new great boyfriend and went back to him a couple of months after the no contact order. I don’t know if I will ever live this shame down.

We continued our toxic relationship until I was 18. We broke up 5 months after my brother died. Actually, we had just gotten back together right before my brother died. We had been fighting the night he died. If I had taken another route home from his apartment to my house, I would’ve passed the wreck. But for all the abuse I endured during our relationship, he saved me after my brother died. I couldn't have gotten through it without him.

The night my brother died, he was working late at Walgreens, because of extended holiday hours. I had just gotten home and had resumed fighting with my boyfriend via AIM. It was around 1 am. The phone rang. WTF? My mom answered (I found out later they hung up because she thought it was a prank call). The phone rang again. Then my mom was running down the hall shouting my brother’s name. I will never forget the panic and terror in her voice. My parents said the cops had called and they were going to UT Medical Center. I didn’t go because I was pissed. So. Pissed. He had finally got his act together! Because my mom said cops, I thought he had gotten back into trouble. I was sure he and my parents were about to be embroiled in whatever legal ramifications his choices had brought on. So I declined to go. I mentioned this to my boyfriend, as our text fight had been interrupted. Later, a cop showed up at my house. He asked if my parents had been notified of what happened. I said yes. He said that he was still breathing on his own when they left the scene. I was very confused and asked him what happened. He said he couldn't tell me (what??? You can tell me he was breathing, but not anything else???). Then he left and I was mostly very confused, but my brain still hadn’t put it together that something really bad had happened. I told my boyfriend about the cop. A few minutes later, he called and said he was coming to get me to take me to the hospital. I found out later that my mom had called him and told him to bring me after they found out that shit was bad. Even as we were driving to the hospital, I was clueless. I was mostly pondering, “What could he have done this time?” My boyfriend dropped me at the entrance and I went in by myself, because he wasn’t a dumbass and had put together that shit was bad. After I got there, the doctor told us he was going to die, and I had a hysterical breakdown. My boyfriend came into the waiting room and from there, basically carried me emotionally and physically through life for the next few months. I couldn’t function, and he functioned for me. Despite our terrible and toxic relationship, I will always be grateful for this. He transformed into a completely different person for a few months. He stopped being abusive. He was loving and supportive. He was my lifeline. I clung to this version of him for many years after. In all honesty, I still cling to it a bit. When something traumatic happens, it binds you to the people who are there living it with you. I think this is one of the main drivers of why I would go back to him for years after we broke up. It’s strange how one person can break you and save you.

I vividly remember the day we broke up for good. It was a day around his birthday. Since I was 18 and couldn’t go to bars, I was not invited to the birthday celebration (no possibility of having, you know, a party). Instead, I planned on cooking him a romantic dinner. I got up early that morning to straighten my hair the way he liked it. I had bought a new dress I knew he would like. I went grocery shopping and showed up at his apartment just as he was rolling out of bed. I made him muffins for breakfast. He opened my gift of some very nice wine glasses, a great gift for an alcoholic (did I mention he’s an alcoholic?). He left to go run errands, and I spent the next few hours making ribs. At some point during the day, a former coworker and friend (male) texted me to see how I was doing. My shitty boyfriend demanded to know who I was texting and, as usual, had a jealousy tantrum. He was in an immediate and incurable sour mood. We ate dinner in silence. I cut him a piece of cake in silence. I cleaned up the mess in silence. After cake I stuck around because I was sure he would want a birthday blowjob. My devotion to this fuck was BOUNDLESS. Instead, he said to me, “You can go now.” I walked out of that apartment knowing that this was THE END. I later broke up with him, a departure from his usual routine of breaking up with me. He begged me not to. And I somehow summoned up the fortitude to not go back.

For a while, anyway. We’ve actually never gotten back together since. We’ve had “things” every few years. I am filled with shame writing this, but I tried to get back with him several times over the past 10 years. He (not shockingly) would never commit to me in any tangible way, but definitely had no problem fucking me. After getting raped by another guy I had dated on and off, I reached out to him. And he was incredibly supportive. He was actually the first person I kissed after months of crippling PTSD. I actually cried while kissing him, and he was extremely kind about it. I’ll never figure him out.

Almost a year ago I was getting ready to break free from the shitty life I was living in Texas. We had rekindled our “thing” for a couple of months. In fact, he was going to help me move across the country. Then he blows me off, four days before the move. I didn’t have time to find anyone else to help me. I was DEVASTATED, but I was also too overwhelmed with panic and stress to really think about him and my devastation. Once I arrived in NC, I began to process the ordeal and realized I didn’t love him anymore. I don’t know why I needed to endure so much abuse, pain, and disappointment to get here. I’m afraid as time goes on, the negative memories will dull again and the feelings will creep back in. Yet another reason why I need to write this down. I wish I could get a lobotomy to selectively remove this part of my brain. Actually, I would like to forget him altogether. I wish I could never think about him again. I would gladly forget the only genuine love I’ve ever felt, because then I could permanently move on from this fucking ordeal. It is not better to have loved and lost when that person is abusive, selfish, generally shitty, and will never ever ever EVER reciprocate your feelings.

For many years of my life, I have hated him while simultaneously being in love with him. At this point, I don’t hate him anymore, for any of it. I’m still incredibly hurt by it all. I don’t believe in karma, but he’s already been dealt a lifetime of misery. He has certainly not been left unpunished. Revenge is never satisfying, anyway.

I’m sad to say that I’ve never loved anyone else, although I have wanted to. I’ve even told other people that I loved them, probably out of sheer desperation to love someone else. When I look at pictures of him now, it still feels like a punch in the gut. But I don’t feel any love anymore. At least not for now.

Me in 2008, hours before I would finally end an abusive relationship.

#metoo

[zeebartels]

First & most importantly –

All my love and thanks to my family, who know how much/little to check in on me and not ask too many/too few questions – DeeDee, Tins, Curtis, Manon, Chants, Casey

Zain – for being my hospital Saviour and just my favourite Pakistani ever! Chad – for trying your best to lie to the parents when KB ask the 2 questions you weren’t allowed to answer truthfully – that is what cousins are for. KB – you are my heroin and without knowing it guided me through this – WWKBD!

Elisha + Nico – for being the best big Sister + Brother a girl could need. There are no words to express how much I love you and appreciate you. Sis! looks like I will live to meet yuh man and you are the best secret keeper.

And, The NHS for existing [you can take all the National Insurance you want from me], King’s College Hospital & my multi-disciplinary team of docs for being absolute stars and sorting me out real quick.

So… it’s been a fucking mad end of this year.

I hate this time of year, it’s never felt happy or joyous and honestly I just see the loneliness in the world in this ‘festive’ season, and now compounded by the loss of my father on Boxing Day 2013 – this time of year I’m always thinking – where is the highest mountain or deepest hidey hole I can find until this is all over. But I think this year has taken the cake!

So I had this cough since end of July, no biggie – it’s a cough.

In October, I was inexplicably breathless speed walking to the boarding gate in Amsterdam with Court.

November 19th, I had the craziest fever – trying to sleep, laying naked in my living room with my windows and sliding doors open in the middle of winter and I still felt I was in Trinidad in midday hot sun.

Chaddy boy came over the next day and seeing I couldn’t say one word without having to catch my breath – emergency doctor’s appointment became mandatory. Now I am the worst patien if I can walk and not screaming in pain – I good, dancer habits die hard. So you know shit was real at this point.

Doc Wedgwood tells me to go directly to A&E 1st thing in the morning, She means – DO NOT pass go, DO NOT collect £200 [which would have been damn handy seeing I just quit my 2nd job for the year on Halloween – that’s another story though].

Of course, I was like “listen, give me some drugs so I stop this violent coughing business and could breathe cause I have a job interview tomorrow that not only do I really want to go to but shit! I need to be able to pay rent in 2018 and there is nothing that will make me move from the best flat in the world.”

We had a bit of a back and forth and this woman was not playing but no chest infection is going to affect my plan. Cue – an interview reschedule and I head to King’s College Hospital bright and early the next morning.

Give some blood and x-ray my chest. Then @ 8:50am the lovely good looking Isiah made everything a little more concerning. He asked me to stick around and started asking me a bunch of questions and after trying to be slick, I got him to eventually admit to me that, “My Chest X-ray is concerning, and I need to go to my GP 1st thing tomorrow to discuss the results”

Fuck me! So not a straightforward​ chest x-ray, not a simple case of a really bad chest infection. But you know I’m on a mission, cause I can’t tell my mother I quit another job this year without having sorted another, so I have interviews to get my ass too​.

Fast Forward to that afternoon, and my Doc Wedgwood left 2 voicemails and emailed me about my early morning results appointment – slight panic set in, so I called in the reinforcements for this appointment – enter Nicholai from Stage Right.

So much changed in a couple sentences that Wednesday morning.

“Your chest x-ray isn’t good. We have to do more tests to fully diagnose, but it’s 1 of 3 things –

Lung cancer [WTF?!?!], Lymphoma [this woman crazy!?!?] or Sarcoidosis [I know she crazy cause only people on House or Greys’ Anatomy have that, and those are TV shows].

Your heart rate is 160 – it’s working too hard and your lymph nodes are inflamed around 400%”

If Nico didn’t say respond – I woulda tell you – that was the most vivid dream I ever had. My Big Brother [as he introduced himself to Doc Wedgwood] asked the sensible questions. I said – how the hell do I tell my mother & sister?!!?

The Bartels Soldier surfaced [I am the child of KB – the Original Gangster] and I needed to make a plan. I started my “I’m dying” folder in my Notes.

What needs doing…

What are the next steps to diagnosis?

Who needs to or should know?

Do I change my pension beneficiaries from my Godchildren​ to my mother and sister [the original plan of them being gone by the time I die may not be the same]?

If it’s a cancer – do I do the fucked up chemo thing or just make sure I enjoy the rest of my time?

Sweet! I lost 10lbs in 2 weeks and I didn’t even make an effort – this could definitely be a good thing!!

Who needs access to my business if shit goes downhill from here.

Answers…

Kings’ College Chest Clinic will call me with my next appointments and instructions

Nico [he was there], Elisha [she’s my person], Chaddy [he knows something is up]. KB + the rest will know when I know what is what

Diagnosis 1st then change beneficiaries if need be

Stage 1 – we will try ah ting & KB will have to come and mind her chile in London. Late Stage 2 and beyond – I’mma just ride this out and see what happens

I have 50lbs I need to lose and hate exercising so this is a real good thing & I’m going to ride this train as much as I can [so far -20lbs + counting in the last month]

Elisha – all of it. Nico – my hospital details.

  So here is what followed:

My symptoms got worse –

I can’t walk 1 flight of stairs without being winded, I have to plan all my journeys around tube stations that have escalators and leave enough time to catch my breath before I have to speak to someone. And keep those to a bare minimum

Talking too much is difficult – not a problem for me, I’m not the biggest fan of people

Eating is tiring and takes my breath away – so most things become blended, good thing I had a bunch of already made frozen soup

I have violent coughing episodes that make anyone in my vicinity think I’m dying from the plague – They just gonna have to deal with that

My ribs are sore from all the coughing, so inhaling is painful

No matter how much water I drink (we are talking 3-4 litres a day) I still wake up at least 4 times every night coughing because my throat is so dry

I started sleeping on top of towels so my bed doesn’t get soaked from my night sweats

I decided on a hospital uniform – my fav GAP grey sweatpants & large quilted super cosy GAP jumper & NikexLiberty Air Max 90’s

Another 3 blood tests – 1 of which I had to tell a very fass phlebotomist about herself and that I do not need a husband nor define myself by the presence of a man & I still don’t know my blood type

A CT Scan – Yes you really do feel like you’ve pee’d yourself in your swimsuit and that cosy warmth stays with you for a couple seconds

A result appointments that only said more tests to come – Doc Turner didn’t seem too​ impressed to hear about my “I’m Dying” folder and whatever other snarky comments I  made

A bronchoscopy – My body was not happy about the invasion and started bucking like I was possessed and thus a punctured lung (more Grey’s Anatomy​y drama), I woke up, or more specifically, regained memory whilst in mid sentence to the nurse.

A week later – I found a bunch of druggie selfies and pics of bloody liquids [I assume came from me], and videos of my canula removal – no memory performing these actions and I doubt the nurse used my phone.

A PET Scan – preceded by a semi breakdown in the waiting room, it kicked off because they go my appointment times wrong, I was real tired and it was my 2nd day of fasting for a procedure. So a very unhappy Zara came to visit shouting for my doctor and threatening to start breaking things led to a coughing episode and was completed by my pee-ing myself while I’m trying to cuss them about their time fuck up. Eventually – they made me radioactive and I went home to my bed.

Ended that day with my cancelling an interview, receiving confirmation of 2 different job offers coming to my inbox within the next couple day and a late evening voicemail from Doc Turner “It’s good news – all things considered. I’ll see you on Monday and we’ll discuss treatment and long-term”

Well thank fuck for that! At least I don’t have to inject my self with poison. I can deal with that – and I can tell KB.

Monday 18th December – Final results appointment + diagnosis =

CONGRATULATIONS!! You’re a winner!!!

You only have a rare autoimmune disease that we don’t know much about but we can give you mood altering weight gaining steroids for symptoms but not much else. We don’t know what causes it, your symptoms can disappear as quickly as they appeared and never reappear, or you could get lung damage. You’ll have to come to the hospital once a month for a full workup.

BTW – how are your eyes feeling? Tired? Warm? Cause this could affect your eyes and your brain too.

Sarcoidosis is now your long time companion.

Gee! Thanks Doc Turner – you’re my hero.

Everything was made right literally in one afternoon, an afternoon where I felt so shitty, couldn’t catch my breath, breathing was painful and my constant coughing made me want to die.

I get to call my mother and tell her – it kinda went like this

[Me -ZB] Hey KB, so I have something to tell you. I quit my job on Halloween… [KB] Oh Shit man Zara! That was 2 months ago [ZB] yeah but I just had 2 offer conversations with 2 companies & I’ll decide on one of them later today, so the job situ is in hand. [KB] mmm hmmm [ZB] Annnnddd, I was being tested for Lung Cancer, Lymphoma & Sarcoidosis, but I only have Sarcoidosis. The best of the 3. [KB] What you saying? [ZB] {Long version as above} [KB] OK, well good thing you there and not here. You are my special child. First it’s your special mouth disease [that is another story – missing some jaw bone]

Ma asked some really good questions and we lime for a lil while on the Skype.

Hardest part done – So now, we sort shit out.

The job is decided on, I’m now the Head of People for a Games Company.

New Meds –

Getting my steroids via inhaler – straight to the lungs, minimise the side effects of steroids in the blood. I know the steroids would have given me a real reason to be fat but the mood swing business, I wasn’t really in the mood for nah!

More Codeine = more constipation – so increase on the prunes and keep on with the greens.

True Story – I’ve been on some form of codeine for the last month – A couple weeks ago, I’m sitting on my toilet for 20 minutes, my legs are numb and I’m crying with frustration cause really I’m a 36 yr old constipated woman, and all I want is for this shit to no longer be a turtle and become a drowned log. I have a coughing episode and all that shit comes barrelling out! The biggest most literal F-ough (fart+cough) that ever existed!! 

So now it’s the road to getting right, I have to be a bridesmaid in Court’s wedding and I’ve got 3 months to be able to breathe while I walk down her aisle.

I’m thrilled that I don’t have to tell my mother + sister that I have cancer at the same time of year we found out and lost my father to cancer.

I get to be on a special list for people with Special Diseases. I call it “exotic”.

I’ll lose the next 30lbs probably without much annoying exercise simply because I have to cut out all inflammatory foods and my body seems to be on that trajectory, once the vaporise steroids don’t get in the way.

And I get to learn more about this odd disease and I won’t be receiving a ridiculous hospital bill.

Everyone is now caught up and I wish you all a brilliant year and all the good things.

2018 is setting up to be a smash hit! I’m pretty excited.

Walk good

xoxo.​

I am a patient on House + Greys’ Anatomy First & most importantly - All my love and thanks to my family, who know how much/little to check in on me and not ask too many/too few questions - DeeDee, Tins, Curtis, Manon, Chants, Casey…

#2018 #dealwithit #health #life #sarcoidosis #shithappens

[alex-guerin]

The Misadventures of my Poor Punky...

So, I am no good when it comes to death. Especially not when it’s someone I care about. I can’t look at them once they’re gone. I can’t be in the same room as them. I have to be as far away as politely possible. Needless to say, I’m great at wakes, I hold up the back wall of the funeral home to make sure it doesn’t fall in on everyone. Very important job, you know. 

Annnnyway, since my Punky girl passed away on her bed, which happened to be in my room, my parents let her stay there (it was like 4 in the morning, not much else they could do). I was at work, my room was blocked off from screwy Louie, she was fine in here. 

I went out for much needed breakfast with my co-workers yesterday morning, then met up with @kishikeahi for coffee and hugs, before making my way back to town to get my taxes done. Once they were done, I had texted my mom asking if she was still in my room. Mom said she was, but her and dad were getting ready to take her out, she’d let me know when she was taken care of. 

...that apparently is where my poor Punky’s misadventure began. 

Please keep in mind, she was a ten year old Rottweiler. Who weighed roughly 75 lbs when she passed. ...she’d been in my room for a few hours, so, I mean, she literally became a dead weight (I’m so tired right now, please pardon my dark, morbid humor, it’s keeping me semi sane right now). So, it literally took both my parents to lift her up off the floor. And shuffle across my room to the door, and then had to lean her against my TV table while mom opened the door more so they could get out. And my poor baby, she was so long legged, apparently her back legs were just sticking up, and just the way my mom kept describing them, gads, the mental image I got was just hysterical. So, they finally get her out of my room, would make it a few feet and have to lean her against something to rest, or to open a gate, and then the front door, which her poor back legs apparently kept hitting against a few times, and my mom kept apologizing to her for it. Finally got her outside, rested her on my brother’s motorcycle while my dad opened the back of his truck, and then they carefully laid her in the back, made sure she was still all covered up and comfy in her favorite blue blankie, shut the truck and set to work trying to get hold of a guy my mom used to work with at an animal clinic. John was the one who, when the vets had to put an animal down, or one passed on the table, he would handle them so gently and carefully, and take care of them/handle their cremations. So, my mom was trying to get hold of him so that they could take Punky up for me.

...whenever my mom tried calling, he wasn’t there. She left him a voicemail, called the shelter, left a message for him leaving her number and my dad’s, and had to leave for work. Well, no one ever called either of them yesterday. 

Now, when I finally wandered my numb and bone deep exhausted ass home at like 5:30 in the afternoon, I noticed my dad’s truck was backed into the driveway. It’s never backed into the driveway. I instantly knew she was back there and just didn’t look, and when my dad came out of the garage to kind of stand between me and the truck, that definitely confirmed that as of 5:30 in the evening, she was still waiting in the back of his truck. Which, is terrible, cuz my baby HATES car rides! Everything about them! And poor thing had to wait in her Papa’s truck for ages! 

Anyway, I didn’t question anything, no one said anything, so I went to bed and around 10 o’clock this morning I heard my dad leave the house. Didn’t think anything of it. It’s Saturday, he was probably going for coffee. No, apparently he’d gotten a call from John saying what time the shelter would be open to and that there should be someone there, bring her up and she’d be taken care of. Why my dad didn’t just go straight there, I dunno. But he didn’t. And when he got there at noon, found out John had left at 11:30. And no one at the receptionist’s desk was being even remotely helpful. They flatout told him they wouldn’t take her, no he couldn’t just leave her there, and actually asked him if he had an appointment. Like, WTF!? So, yeah, my baby spent the night in the back of her Papa’s truck, and had to go for a dreaded car ride, just to get turned away by assholes at this dumbass shelter. So, my dad (who was already distraught over us losing her, and had apparently been sobbing himself when he came in to help mom with her when she first passed), started freaking out, didn’t know what to do. Here it is, almost 1 pm on a Saturday afternoon, a holiday weekend at that. And his poor grandpuppy is in the back of his black pickup truck. Oh, and did I mention Northern IL has entered the Twilight Zone and it’s been in the mid-60s all weekend and is supposed to continue to be until like Wednesday? Yeah, go figure!

My dad starts texting my mom --- who was at work --- totally freaking out, didn’t know what to do. My mom finally called him and told him to quick hurry up and call the vet office we’d been taking Punky too. They could help figure out what to do with her. Well, the office closed at 1, and my dad missed them. So, now my mom is freaking out because oh God! They can’t keep my poor baby in the back of Papa’s truck all weekend! Can’t keep her there until TUESDAY!!! What are they gonna do?!

Finally, one of the women my mom work’s with mentioned the place their shelter uses/takes their animals to. So, my mom gets back on the phone with my dad, ready to tell him about it, only to find out he’s already on the road to the Emergency Vet Clinic 45minutes away. He’d gotten hold of them, they were open, and yes, they dealt with our vet office, they’d be happy to take care of her for us, just bring her up. So, he took her up there and reassured my mom that she was in good hands cuz the people who came out to get her out of the truck were apparently so gentle with her, and took good care of her as they carried her to the building, annnnnnnnd once again, my baby and her long legs! They had to stop and talked to her, telling her things were okay, they just needed to move her leg cuz they couldn’t get her through the door with her leg sticking out like it was. 

So, when I finally gathered up the courage tonight to text my mom and ask if she’d made it up to TAILS (where I thought she was going/where she originally was supposed to be going. The assholes who turned my dad and her away), my mom came down to talk to me and tell me all this and was like, “Yeeeeeeeah...we didn’t wanna tell you that she had to stay the night in the truck. Especially since, we didn’t like that she had to stay the night in the truck! Not with as much as she hated car rides!”

But, she is in good hands now, and we should be hearing from them in about 7 to 10 days and I’ll have her back in my room again....probably sob all over her ashes, but I’ll have her back in my room where she belongs.

Oh my poor Punkykins. Even in death, life keeps fucking us over, huh? 

#tw: pet loss #tw: pet death #...only in my family... #I should have been sobbing #as mom was telling me this #but all I could do was sit here and laugh #because of course