#‘I’m sure I have covid but I won’t get the test’

[garciapimienta]

Why are my siblings so annoying sometimes

[artificial-condition]

Ugh I think I may be sick

[raeathnos]

.

[covid-safer-hotties]

The air travel issue no one wants to talk about - Posted Aug 20, 2024

I’m sick of getting sick on planes.

I got another case of COVID-19 last month, on a domestic flight, sitting near a woman who was sneezing. I wore an N95 mask, but she was only wearing the loose surgical type. I suspect she knew she was infectious.

There was nothing I could do about it. There were no seats to move into and, besides, to do so seemed a bit hysterical at the time.

Two days later – bingo. I wasn’t very ill, but I was visiting immune-compromised people and I put them at risk.

Nowadays, talking about masks – and indeed the virus itself – is deeply unsexy. They’re a symbol of a past we’d rather not remember, even though that past is still our present and future while the disease keeps mutating.

But I still want to talk about masks because COVID-19 keeps happening to travellers, ruining holidays and causing potential long-term health issues, and yet airlines, government authorities and most passengers don’t want to know about it.

Just look around any flight. Or bus or train. Despite a few people clearly being sick, only a tiny percentage mask up. It’s not just as a precaution against COVID-19. There’s influenza, RSV and other infections of a weakened immune system which, perhaps unsurprisingly, can be caused by repeated COVID-19 infections.

Maybe COVID-19 is “just like a cold” and I shouldn’t fret. I certainly hope so because scientists are still learning about how each infection harms the body, with little idea what the consequences will be in three, 10 or 20 years.

I’m told I should “get over it”. But it’s not over with me.

Constant new variants mean we’re unlikely ever to be immune, even though the healthy among us won’t get terribly sick due to excellent boosters. COVID-19 cases have surged worldwide these past two or three months. Many Olympic athletes had their dreams shattered by catching it before their trials.

There’s massive public denial. Not many people bother to test these days. If you don’t test, you don’t know, so you’re free to assume you don’t have it. That’s certainly the skewed logic I’ve heard a lot lately.

So, if you’re masking on a flight, you’re in rare company.

During the pandemic, masks became a symbol of divisiveness, enraging sectors of our society who thought mask mandates took away personal freedoms. The freedom to get sick and infect others, I suppose.

I’m not quite sure what the humble, practical facemask did to deserve the controversy, despite being quietly worn for decades in Asian countries and by medical staff, but the culture war against it still rages.

It’s very possible, in certain societies, that if you wear a medical mask, you’ll have it ripped off your face or even get arrested.

Recently, Nassau County, New York, became the first county in the tri-state area (Connecticut, New York and New Jersey) to pass a ban on anyone over 16 wearing a face covering on public streets and property. It’s a criminal offence, and police have the authority to arrest people who refuse to take off their masks.

In New York city, mayor Kathy Hochul is considering a mask ban on subways, even as the city’s health department urges people to wear masks to combat an unprecedented rise in summer COVID-19 cases.

The laws are mostly directed at protesters who wear face coverings, and not people protecting themselves against disease. But the immunocompromised are angry that once again the mask has become the issue, not the behaviour.

Aerosol scientists conclude that N95 masks are 95 per cent efficient in blocking airborne particles. But over hours in a confined space, when you might have to lower your mask to drink, eat and sleep, they’re less effective, especially when the infected person isn’t masked properly too.

Currently, we rely on our fellow travellers being considerate. That’s a big ask. I suppose you could bring a few spare N95 respirators to distribute to passengers in your row as a precaution, but that might be misconstrued as rude.

But here’s the thing – I know if I get sick, my precautions haven’t worked. But it’s impossible to know how many other times I might have become ill if I hadn’t worn a mask to protect me.

So, even though the sight of me wearing a mask angers some people, and looks foolish to others, and even mentioning it drives people crazy, I’m sticking with the cover-up.

[aelianated-star]

Buckle up folks because this is a long post -

Tips for newly diagnosed dysautonomia patients:

- Drink a lot of water (so much water guys. Especially if you have hypovolemic types of dysautonomia, like hypovolemic POTS, it’s crucial)

- Keep up with electrolytes/ salt intake. Vitassium makes salt pills, chews, and tablets. I personally prefer the tablets because I can just suck on them for a while, but I know a few people who prefer the pills.

- Compression socks help, A LOT! One major component of dysautonomia, in general, is blood pooling (which can greatly increase your risk of fainting). The compression/construction helps blood flow and return back to your heart and brain

- Your disability(s) are valid, even if you don’t pass out/pass out a lot!! Only about 1/3 of people with POTS (one of the most common types of dysautonomia) pass out! And of those, few pass out regularly/daily (such as myself). No matter what, you are valid! Even if you’re undiagnosed, even if your case is “mild”, even if you manage it well without much help; you’re valid!

- Especially for those of you who are just being introduced to disability (likely because of long COVID), it’s okay to grieve the life you used to have/planned to have. You can live a wonderful, full life with these conditions (and other conditions), it just may require more accommodations than you anticipated!

- DONT BE AFRAID TO ACCOMODATE YOURSELF! Seriously, use mobility aids, get a 504/IEP, and make your space(s) accessible to yourself! I use forearm crutches for short distances, but because of how severe my dysautonomia is, I’m reliant on a wheelchair (with someone pushing me/motorized aid) to go more than a couple hundred feet/longer (or anything that requires standing for more than 5-10 minutes).

- Get a pulse oximeter or watch! Certain types of dysautonomia may cause lowered oxygen (hypoxia) because of a lack of available blood. It’s extremely important to monitor this and make sure you’re aware of your oxygen levels!

- Find community! I personally love using “stuff that works”. It not only lets you crowdsource for information about medications or treatments, but lets you message other people with the same condition(s) as you.

- If you feel like something is wrong, please talk to your doctor. I know it’s scary, especially if you have medical trauma/PTSD on top of these conditions, but it can literally be lifesaving. I noticed a sudden uptick in chest pain and casually mentioned it to my doctor. Sure enough, we found I have two types of arrhythmias (p-wave inversion and flutters) Now I’m pushing for genetic testing to see if my diagnosed EDS is vEDS/cvEDS

- Don’t be afraid to start and try medications! I’ve tried numerous medications and haven’t found anything that works quite right yet, but that doesn’t mean I won’t :). And some of you may not need medication! You may be able to manage with lifestyle changes, or IV therapy, which is great! Do what works FOR YOU. Everyone is different!

- Rest days are productive! Your body is working really hard to keep you alive, it’s okay to take a break! Take care of yourself, really, it’s okay to conserve spoons.

[my-castles-crumbling]

hey I got my GCSE results back today (yk OWLS in HP except they’re real for 16year olds in UK😭) and I did bad, like way worse than I’d expected/hoped. Like ok i know it’s not actually that bad and loads of people would be glad to get my scores etc etc but like I’ve always been a really academic person. I wanted to go to Harvard for some reason and now that dream’s just shattered because with these scores I know I won’t get in. I feel like my life’s ended and I’m only 16 and I don’t know what to do. My family are all trying to act like everything’s normal and just told me ‘oh they don’t actually matter that much don’t worry’ but it’s like…that’s what you say when someone hasn’t done well. im so annoyed because I could have done better, I know I could have, but I was so distracted and burnt out last year and I just didn’t study hard enough.

I just don’t know what to do because everyone’s either telling me ‘oh it’s not that bad, you should be happy’ or ‘oh they don’t matter that much’ but like I know it’s not true and I know they matter and I know universities look at them and judge you based off them. I feel like no one’s letting me be upset and I don’t know what I should even do or if there is anything I can do.

I know there’s more to life than academics (I’m not a sewerslide risk) but at the same time I can’t help but feel like all my dreams collectively went down the drain the moment I saw my scores.

Im lying in bed and i have plans today and deadlines and all sorts of stuff and i just can’t find the motivation to do anything because whats even the point? sorry for ranting in your inbox its not like there’s much you can do but i just wanted to vent without someone’s immediate response being to act fake happy around me

Hi!

I definitely understand how you're feeling and I agree, you have a right to be upset. It's hard to feel like you've not done as well as you wanted to do, and you can mourn that.

I do have to say, though, I know someone who works in an Ivy League school in the United States, and I asked her about GCSEs. She said that since COVID, a lot of schools are taking multiple ways of showing academic skill. She wasn't sure about Harvard, but she said many schools aren't requiring SATs (US equivalent of NEWTs) so it's probably similar with GCSEs, and they will instead accept alternate options.

I think the thing is: you're allowed to be realistic. It sucks to do not-great on an important test. but please also be realistic and know that your dreams are not completely ruined. You might have other options: other ways of showing your intelligence or other just-as-amazing schools that will accept you. Please don't give up now- you are more than just one test score.

[darkwing-katy]

The Spider and the Fly Part I

Pairing: Eventual Leland x Reader (sorta? You’ll see what I mean)

Word Count: 2,527

Summary: All you want to do is get through your online courses and keep your best friend from making bad choices in men. But there’s this creepy therapist who is absolutely insisting on you making an appointment with him. Who the hell is this Leland Townsend, and why won’t he leave you alone?!

Part one of seven. Takes place sometime around seasons one and two.

This series is inspired heavily by my favorite poem, “The Spider and the Fly” (1829) by Mary Howitt. This poem is in the public domain.

Tagging: @primosflowergarden

————————————————————————————————————-

“Will you walk into my parlor?” said the Spider to the Fly

“‘Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy.

The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,

And I have many curious things to show you when you are there.”

You take a casual sip of (your favorite coffee drink) and raise your eyebrows at Betty. “Look, this is, what, the fourth time that he’s stood you up?” 

She nods, her blonde hair whooshing in her ponytail as her head bobs up and down. “Yeah,” she confirms as she takes a sip of her strawberry hibiscus drink. 

“Four times is too many times. Three times is too many times. Honestly, two times is pushing it, unless there’s a legitimate reason for it, and even then, I’d be pretty damn wary.” You swirl your drink around, careful not to spill it. “If you ask me, you should be ruining his life right about now.”

Betty rolls her eyes. “I’m not like you, (Y/N),” she replies. “I’m not petty.”

You scoff. “Petty? I’m not petty! I just make sure that people who fuck me over get a little fucked over themselves.” You take another short sip. “If it were me, I’d start following our lord and savior Taylor Swift and pull some vigilante shit.”

“You don’t even know if there’s a reason for it! What if he’s got a valid reason—like his mom died or his dog got hit by a car or he got COVID?”

“Does he even have a dog?” you wonder. Betty shrugs, and you sigh as you fix your eyes on your friend. “You see too much good in everyone, Betty. Sure, there can be valid reasons to stand someone up, but not four times in a row, and especially not without giving you a heads up of some kind.” You smirk as you remember what you did to Talison—not that Betty knows how far you’d gone. It had been mostly harmless, at least. 

For you.

“You should do some research. Figure out if there’s a subreddit on them or something. The internet is a wondrous place, you know.” You shift in your chair, setting your drink down and leaning forward on your elbows. “And then, if you find out anything suspicious, I say you take a page outta tumblr and slash three of his tires. Allegedly, if you slash three instead of all four, insurance won’t cover it. Not,” you quickly add, “that I’ve ever put that to the test.”

Betty didn’t know about that time with Matt, either.

Betty rolls her eyes and stands. “You’re a psycho. I gotta pee, and then I’m gonna order me a sandwich. You want anything to eat?”

“I mean, I’m always down for a croissant,” you reply. 

Betty nods and walks off in the direction of the bathroom. You lean back and drink some more of your drink as you study the people around you. The coffee shop is only half-full, but it’s still busy with couples and friends chatting. You skim around the tables for anything interesting, anything worthy of your attention. There’s a few teenagers giggling as they swipe up and down with their phones; a shrimpy-looking teenaged boy making doe-eyes at them; a few college kids on their laptops, along with some businesspeople. Fortunately, no one is talking overly loud—you hate when people do that in shared spaces.

A man sits across from you on his laptop. He’s kinda cute, and you let your eyes trace over his face as he types, unaware of the fact that you’re watching him. You think you might want to say something to him when your eyes catch a glint on his left hand—a simple gold band—a wedding ring. “Guess not,” you mutter under your breath. 

“I couldn’t help overhearing,” a voice starts, distracting you from the cute married man. You snap your head to Betty’s chair, where a man is standing, one hand wrapped around the top of the chair. He’s handsome, sure, if a little older than your usual tastes.

The man is tilting his head at you, a friendly smile on his face. “It sounds like your friend is having boy troubles,” he continues.

You’re a bit perturbed that he’s been nosy enough to overhear the conversation, let alone comment on it. Even if he’s attractive. “Pretty sure that’s not your business, buddy,” you reply, pursing your lips.

He chuckles. “It’s not, but I’m curious, and I think I could also be of some assistance.” He nods his head at the chair. “May I?”

“Nope,” you say, but he ignores you and sits down. 

You gotta admire the guy’s boldness, even if it’s tempting you to toss your drink in his face. From the way he’s tilting his head at you and narrowing his eyes ever-so-slightly, he half-expects you to react aggressively, so you swallow your anger and settle for cool observation instead. He fixes his eyes on you as he sets his arms on the table, the very picture of two old friends getting together to chat. “So. Boy troubles?”

You eyeball his outfit. It’s business casual, a tweed suit, and he’s got glasses that are half-black, half-tan framing his eyes, which are a deep blue that you haven’t seen on anyone else before. His hair is short and brown. As you study him, you think to yourself again that he’s pretty nice to look at. “Why do you care?” you ask.

He flashes you a disarming smile that shows all of his teeth. “I’m a therapist, actually. I hear stories like your friend’s all the time, and I just thought I could…help out. Maybe give you some advice to give her.” He folds his hands together and sets his chin on them, propping his head up like you’re sharing the hottest gossip with each other.

Well, that’s even more disturbing—he’s a therapist and he’s just butting into your and Betty’s lives? Must not be a great therapist, then, if he’s not respecting boundaries.

Still, you can’t see the harm in sharing a few details, if only for the fun of it. “She’s been stood up by this dude a few times,” you say, careful to omit any descriptions. “And I’m simply advising her to ditch him. That’s all.”

The man gives you a thoughtful look as he blinks. “I swear I heard you mention slashing the guy’s tires,” he says, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“I merely mentioned it as a potential solution to impress upon this person that standing someone up four times in a row is not an acceptable form of behavior.”

“But encouraging others to slash tires is?”

Alright, fun’s up. This guy is getting annoying. “My friend’s gonna be back soon, and she’s gonna want her chair back,” you say as you cross your arms over your chest. “You should go.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I can wait for her to get back. I’m on my coffee break right now.”

You feel your eyes narrow even further. He’s either not getting the hint, or he is and he’s choosing to deliberately ignore it. Either way, it’s greatly diminishing his attractiveness. Deep blue eyes do not excuse a shitty personality, no matter how pretty. “Look, buddy,” you say in a low voice as you lean forward. “I’m telling you to go away.”

“Or what? You’ll slash my tires?” There’s a strange gleam in his eyes, like he enjoys the idea of you doing that. It’s unsettling. A chill creeps up your arms. “What? Or maybe you’ve got something worse up your sleeves?” He raises both eyebrows, daring you. You hope he doesn’t notice the goosebumps prickling up your bare arms, but if you reach for your cardigan, he’ll definitely notice it if he hasn’t already.

You need to change strategies. It seems like you’re unable to intimidate him into leaving you the fuck alone, but luckily for you, pivoting is something you do well, so now it’s your turn to flash him a tense smile. “Alright. I’ll bite. What do you want?”

He blinks, almost like he hadn’t expected that response. “I’m sorry?”

You keep the smirk off of your face, but only just barely. It’s nice to have caught him off guard. You pick up your drink to maintain the illusion of friendliness. “You came over here asking about my friend’s boy probs. You say you’re a therapist. So then what do you want? Just to give me some…friendly advice?” You’re raising your eyebrows at him, a mirrored mockery of his earlier facial expression.

He presses his lips into a thin line as he studies you. You study him right back, unflinching as his eyes flick from your drink to your face. You make a point of allowing your own eyes to rove over him. Give him a taste of his own medicine a bit, make him uncomfortable. He catches the way your lips are tilting into a smirk as you examine him, and now his eyes are the ones narrowing. “I want you to make an appointment with me,” he finally says.

You snort. “What the fuck, dude?” Where did that come from? First he acts like he wants to help you with Betty’s relationship problems, and all of a sudden he’s wanting you to make an appointment with him?

Good God, this man must be insane.

He doesn’t flinch at your exclamation, just patiently watches you. 

You shake your head at him. “You can’t be serious.”

His lips curl into a smirk of his own. “Oh, I am very serious,” he replies, and you feel another chill run down your spine that has nothing to do with the air conditioning. “I think we could do great things together.”

“The heck does that mean?”

He tilts his head. “Make the appointment and you’ll find out!” He sounds excited now, too happy for your tastes. You haven’t even agreed and he’s acting like you have.

Well, screw that. This screams creep, this screams psycho killer, this screams serial assaulter. There is no way in hell you’re gonna make an appointment with this dude.

But you can’t react that obviously. He’s already noticed your shift in body language—you can tell from the way his eyes glitter at you. All of the weird charm from earlier has gone. He knows that you want to run away from him, and he’s relishing it, the bastard. He expects you to flee. 

You set your jaw, grit your teeth, tilt your head. This guy is bad news, and Betty’s gonna be back anytime now. You need to get him away from her, away from you. The best way to deal with these types of guys is to play along, to give them an amicable smile and nod your pretty little head, so that’s what you do. “Alright, fine. If you leave now, then I’ll schedule an appointment with you, okay?” You give him the fakest smile you can muster and pray he can’t see through it.

His smirk widens into a toothy grin, and somehow you know that he’s seen right through you. He doesn’t care that you’re just saying it to get him away; he’s glad to have won this weird little battle between the two of you. With one swift movement, he rises from the chair and pulls out a small business card, back in charming gentleman mode. You accept the card without looking at it. If you’re lucky, you will never need to refer to it. This is all a ploy to get him out of sight, anyways.

But he’s extending a hand towards you and waiting. You’ve half a mind to ignore it, but that might signal to him that you’re faking everything, so you begrudgingly accept the handshake. His hand wraps around yours, nearly covers it completely, and you give it a firm squeeze in the hopes that he’ll let go quickly.

He doesn’t. He keeps his hand wrapped around yours and tightens his own grip. It’s teetering on the edge of painful, and he’s maintaining eye contact the entire fucking time. It’s a challenge, one that you’re unwilling to lose, so you lock your eyes with his and keep the forced smile plastered onto your face.

“Dr. Leland Townsend,” he says cheerfully.

“(Y/N),” you say, intentionally withholding your last name. He quirks an eyebrow at you to indicate that he’s noticed the omission, but you have no reason to elaborate. You know his name, he doesn’t need to know yours. There are dozens of people in New York who have the same name as you.

“You might not realize it, yet, (Y/N),” he says, “but this is gonna be the start of a beautiful partnership. I can feel it.” His thumb strokes your hand as he drawls out the word ‘feel’, and you bite your tongue to keep from shuddering. 

What a fucking creep.

“I’ll take your word for it, Doctor,” you reply, keeping that false friendliness in your tone. 

“I’ll see you around!” With that, he finally releases your hand, though not before giving it another not-quite-painless squeeze that kinda feels like some sort of warning. He flashes you another smile and saunters off. You track him, unwilling to let him out of your sight until he’s out the door. He reaches the door and pushes against it, though he does glance back at you, as if he’s expecting you to be watching him. He wiggles his fingers at you in the mockery of a wave, which you don’t return, and then he’s gone at last. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“What a fucking creep,” you repeat to yourself. 

“What was that?”

You spin around to see Betty approaching, a sandwich and a croissant squished together in one hand. She’s got another strawberry hibiscus drink in her other hand. If you weren’t so unsettled by the man—Dr. Townsend?—you’d roll your eyes at her.

“Nothing,” you lie. There’s no reason to tell her about this odd encounter. She’s got enough troubles to worry about.

You hastily shove the business card into your pocket. As you and Betty eat and continue to talk, you’re strangely aware of it burning a hole in your pocket. It’s hard to focus on her words, but you manage to make it work.

It occurs to you that maybe you should call the office and give them all false information. Dr. Townsend wouldn’t know, right? And then you don’t have to actually show up, and he doesn’t have anything to trace you with. It’d lull him into a false sense of security only to have the rug ripped out from beneath him.

You smirk to yourself. Yeah, that sounds like a fun little prank. It’s not like he’ll be able to find you and retaliate. 

You rub your sore hand with your other hand. Oh, yes. He thinks he can intimidate you? He’s gonna find out just how wrong he is.

“Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “you ask me this in vain.

For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er come down again.”

————————————————

Part Two

[nerdzzone]

A Weary Holiday

Summary: When Madeline and Grace come down with a nasty flu, Chris has to take on the role of doctor.

Part of the Back To You series

-----

November 2022

Don’t come home. Thanksgiving is canceled. We’re both sick.

Chris was walking out the door towards the car waiting to take him to the airport when he saw the message from Madeline and his heart instantly sank. Her tone was bleak, her words were blunt, and considering they’d been looking forward to his week off since he’d last been home for a few days at Halloween, he knew that she must have been feeling pretty awful for her to make such an extreme suggestion. Eager to find out what was going on, he greeted the driver and settled into the backseat before quickly calling Madeline, but he felt his worry grow as soon as she answered.

“Hi, Chris…”

Her voice was croaky and the coughs that followed rattled in her chest.

“Oh, baby,” he cringed. “What’s going on?”

“We’re sick,” she stated the obvious. “Me and Grace.”

“Covid?”

“Not according to the tests,” Madeline assured him. “But there’s a nasty flu going around too. Half the girls were out of class with it last week, but one of them must have passed it on to me.”

“Shit, that sucks. I’m sorry, Maddie,” Chris sighed. “But I’m on my way to the airport so I’ll be home soon.”

“No, you can’t come home.”

Madeline’s voice was firm, but the wheeze that followed did nothing to convince Chris to stay away.

“What are you talking about? Of course, I’m coming home. I’ve got almost a week off so it’s perfect timing.”

“Then stay with your mom, but don’t come here.”

“I’m not gonna do that,” he insisted. “You need help, especially if Grace is sick too.”

“But what if you catch it? I don’t want to be responsible for causing millions of dollars worth of filming delays.”

“It’ll be fine,” Chris assured her, her concern putting a soft smile on his face. “I’ll drink some orange juice on the plane, boost my immune system a bit.”

“I don’t think any amount of orange juice will protect you from this,” Madeline huffed, but as the sound of a screaming toddler floated through the phone, Chris swore he heard her let out a whimper. “Grace is awake so I gotta go, but I seriously won’t be offended if you don’t come home. Save yourself, Chris.”

“That’s not happening. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Text me if there’s anything you want me to pick up on my way home from the airport.”

Madeline reluctantly agreed before hurrying to hang up the phone and tend to their ailing child, leaving Chris alone with his thoughts. Being away from home was always difficult, but being away at a time when his family clearly needed some support was even worse and he desperately wished that he wasn’t so far away.

-

It was suspiciously quiet when Chris got home. He didn’t want to call out and announce his arrival in case everyone was getting some much needed sleep, but even Dodger’s greeting was far more subdued than usual. His little face appeared to be clouded with worry as he briefly jumped up to lick at Chris’ face before trotting back in the direction he’d come from, looking over his shoulder as if he wanted Chris to follow him and as they turned into the living room, Madeline was so focused on rocking the baby in her arms that she apparently hadn’t even heard him come in.

“Hi,” he said softly, not wanting to disturb Grace if she was sleeping. “How’re you guys doing?”

Madeline turned at the sound of his voice, but despite the deep frown that slid onto her face when she saw him, her voice was filled with relief.

“You came home…”

“Of course, I did. Was there ever any doubt?”

“I told you not to,” she reminded him. “And you should at least be wearing a hazmat suit.”

If it wasn’t for how awful she looked, Chris would have chuckled at her dramatics.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she warned him. “Whatever this is, it’s really bad.”

As if to prove her point, she’d barely managed to croak out her words before coughs wracked her body. The sound and the harsh movement disturbed Grace who pulled her face out from where she’d buried it in Madeline’s neck as she whined in protest. However, when she turned her head enough to see Chris standing in the doorway, tears immediately filled her eyes.

“Dada!”

His name came from her lips as a wail as she reached out towards him and he quickly strode across the room to take her in his arms. 

“Hey, Gracie,” he murmured, pressing his lips against her forehead before sharply pulling back. “Jeeze, she’s burning up.”

“I know, she’s so sick,” Madeline practically whimpered as tears welled in her eyes. “And I forgot to text you and ask you to get her some medicine.”

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “I stopped at the pharmacy anyway, just to be safe.”

“Oh, thank you,” Madeline sighed, visibly relaxing at that news. However, as Chris took in the sight of her flushed cheeks and the shivers that were trembling through her body, his worry was quickly rising. “We need to get her fever down a bit.”

“Yours too,” he insisted, reaching out to press his hand gently against her forehead and confirming his suspicions as he shot her a stern look. “You don’t look good, Maddie. How long have you guys been like this?”

“Since yesterday,” she admitted. “I woke up with a cough. It didn’t seem like much at first, but it got worse through the day and then Grace spiked a fever last night. We both went to bed early, but she woke up coughing an hour later and neither of us have really slept since then.”

Chris’ eyes widened as he realized how long they’d been struggling, patting Grace’s back as she coughed harshly in his ear.

“You should have told me earlier, I could have gotten an earlier flight.”

“I didn’t even think about it,” she shrugged, her eyes growing glassy once again. “I feel so awful, Chris. Every time she lies down she coughs so hard that she can’t breathe, but I’m exhausted and don’t have the strength to hold her all the time.”

The crack in her voice had Chris’ heart aching for her. In all the years they’d known each other and all the colds and flus he’d seen her fight, he couldn’t think of a single time that she’d actually admitted to feeling anything worse than slightly unwell so he knew she must have been feeling pretty horrible to actually admit it and there was no doubt that the exhaustion of staying up all night to care for Grace wouldn’t have helped.

Sliding his free arm around her shoulder, he pulled her tightly against his chest to press a kiss against the top of her head.

“I’m home now, so I can take care of Gracie,” he assured her. “You just focus on yourself and start by going to bed and getting some sleep.”

He expected Madeline to argue, but was relieved when - after a moment of silence - he heard a quiet “are you sure?” mumbled into his shirt.

“Absolutely,” he insisted. “You’ve done more than your share, you can’t take care of her if you let yourself get worse.”

“Okay,” Madeline sighed, slipping out of his grasp. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. Wanna grab the stuff from the pharmacy? It’s next to my bag.”

He nodded his head towards where he’d dumped his stuff by the door and waited for her to find the medicine he’d bought before following her into the kitchen. Rocking a still whimpering Grace, he helped Madeline figure out what to take and how much before sending her off to bed. However, as she assured him that she wouldn’t be long and she’d be back soon, Grace caught on to what was happening and lifted her head from Chris’ shoulder with worry on her face.

“Mama!” She cried, a fresh wave of tears bubbling to the surface and stopping Madeline in her tracks. “Mama!”

“I’ll be back soon,” Madeline frowned. “You can stay with Daddy, okay?”

“No!”

Grace dissolved into sobs as she struggled to get out of Chris’ grasp, but as her panic triggered another bout of coughing, Chris held her tight and urged Madeline to leave.

“She’ll be fine,” he insisted. “Just go, she’ll calm down once you’re out of sight.”

He could see how much it almost physically pained Madeline to leave Grace when she was already suffering so much, but in the end her own exhaustion won out and she reluctantly nodded and slipped from the room. Chris turned his attention back to Grace, still rocking her gently as he murmured all the soothing reassurance he could think of until she was back to quietly whimpering against his neck.

By some kind of miracle, Grace stayed calm long enough for Chris to get some medicine into her and he hoped that it would kick in quickly. He could see the exhaustion on her face and he was optimistic that if the medicine gave her some relief from her discomfort then he could help her get some solid, healing sleep even if it meant holding her in his arms for the next several hours.

-

At first, Madeline tried to ignore the hands that were gently shaking her.

But as she slowly gained enough awareness to remember why she was sleeping in the middle of the day, the fact that someone was suddenly trying to force her out of her slumber had panic gripping her heart and startling her wide awake.

Pushing herself up and flipping to face Chris where he sat on the edge of the bed, she tried to force out the words ‘what’s wrong?’ but the quick movement had her chest rattling as the coughs took over again.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he assured her, handing her the glass of water she’d left on the nightstand. “I just thought you might want more medicine for your cough.”

“What time is it?” Madeline croaked out when she managed to control her breathing. “How long have I been asleep?”

“About six hours and the cough stuff says you can take it every four hours,” he informed her. “You started coughing in your sleep pretty bad again about an hour ago so I thought it might be a good idea.”

He held out the little cup that he’d already portioned out and Madeline tossed it back with no complaints, eager for any relief that she could find as she seemed to feel worse and worse with every moment she was awake. Her head was spinning and every muscle in her body seemed to ache, making every cough agonizing as her tight chest fought against her.

“Thanks,” she sighed. “Where’s Grace?”

“Sleeping.”

“And she’s not coughing?”

Madeline didn’t have the energy to keep the shock off of her face and Chris smiled as he nodded.

“Not at the moment, but it’s been tough,” he admitted. “She seems to have about a forty-five minute window before she coughs herself awake.”

“Poor baby,” Madeline frowned. “I hate that she’s struggling and we can’t help her.”

“I hate that you’re struggling too,” Chris murmured, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. 

She leaned into his touch and let her eyes drift shut again, but just as she felt herself start to drift off again, something else caught the attention of her senses.

“What’s that smell?”

“Soup, with chicken and vegetables.”

“You ordered soup for us?”

“No,” Chris informed her, the pride in his voice making Madeline crack open an eye to see the grin on his face. “I made it.”

Knowing that cooking wasn’t Chris’ strength or something he particularly enjoyed, the fact that he was putting so much effort into taking care of them - especially after the horrific night that Madeline had been forced to handle by herself - had her feeling almost overwhelmed with gratitude. It would have been easy and understandable for Chris to switch his plans and stay at his mom’s or sister’s house once he knew they were sick - he only had a week off in a busy filming schedule and staying at home meant missing out on Thanksgiving with the rest of his family - but she was so appreciative that he was willing to risk catching whatever they had to help them through it.

“That’s really sweet,” she smiled, pressing a kiss against his hand where it still rested by her cheek. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Chris shrugged. “I just hope it tastes okay. Carly brought over a recipe and all the ingredients for me when she finished work, but I haven’t tried it yet.”

“Did you pay her back?” It wasn’t until Chris answered her with an amused ‘what?’ that Madeline realized her question may have been a strange response to the information Chris had shared and she tried to pull her delirious brain together enough to explain herself. “I just know everything’s so expensive right now - even vegetables - and I don’t want to be inconveniencing everyone just because I’m sick.”

“It’s okay,” Chris chuckled. “You don’t need to be worrying about things like that right now.”

“Okay,” Madeline sighed, letting her eyes drift shut again. “Will you thank her for me?”

“Sure,” Chris nodded. “But why don’t you try and get some more sleep?”

Madeline could already feel herself starting to drift off when he made the suggestion, but knowing he’d put so much effort into making them something to eat, she felt a pang of guilt.

“But…soup?” 

It was the only words her brain could muster and she heard Chris chuckle again at her half-assed question.

“Are you hungry?” He paused while Madeline attempted to shake her head, but she wasn’t entirely sure she’d moved it at all when he continued. “I’ll leave it on the oven, it’ll still be warm whenever you’re ready to get up.”

Madeline managed to murmur a noise of agreement before sleep washed over her again.

-

The next time Madeline woke up - this time on her own accord - she felt far more alive than she had earlier that day. As she slowly sat up, her head started to spin but after taking a moment to breathe through it and assess how she was feeling, she had to admit there was a definite improvement. The smell of the soup Chris had made was still wafting down the hall and her stomach rumbled as she breathed it in and since that was another notable improvement from the lack of appetite she’d had in the last twenty-four hours, she dragged herself out of bed as fast as her weak body would allow in the hopes she could get some food in her stomach while she was feeling up to it. 

The exhaustion that she felt just from the short trip to the kitchen was a stark reminder of just how sick she was, but the sight that greeted her made the journey worth it as Grace was sitting up in her highchair with Chris carefully spoon feeding her some soup.

“Hey, you’re awake!” Chris smiled when he noticed her leaning against the doorway. “Do you want some soup? Gracie seems to think it’s pretty good.”

The pride on his face was heartwarming - especially when it grew even more as Grace agreed with a loud and enthusiastic ‘yum!’ - and Madeline nodded her head.

“I’d love some, it smells amazing.” She moved towards the stove where the pot was still simmering and scooped some into the bowl he had ready for her on the counter before taking a seat at the table. As she let her soup cool, she looked over at Grace and smiled as she noticed her cheeks were looking far less flushed and the dark circles under her eyes weren’t quite as pronounced. “She looks so much better than she did this morning.”

“The medicine really helped with her fever,” Chris nodded. “It climbed back up a little after a few hours, but it’s nowhere near as high as it was when I got home and her cough is still pretty rough, but she did get at least a couple of hours of sleep.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Madeline breathed a sigh of relief. “I was worried about you, Gracie girl. Are you feeling better?”

Grace looked thoughtful for a minute as she chewed the lump of carrot in her mouth before shaking her head.

“No.”

“Oh, dear,” Madeline offered her a sympathetic frown. “Well, is Daddy’s soup helping?”

“Yes,” Grace smiled weakly. “Yummy!”

“It is very yummy,” Madeline agreed as she took a careful taste. “You did well, Chris.”

The proud smile returned to Chris’ face as he thanked her for the praise and offered Grace another spoonful of soup.

“You’re looking better too,” he observed as he glanced over at Madeline. “And you seem a lot more coherent than when I woke you up earlier.”

“Do I?” Madeline laughed, only vaguely remembering their brief interaction. “Was I delirious?”

“Yeah, you were a little out of it,” he admitted. “But you were all cute and sleepy so that probably didn’t help.”

His use of the word ‘cute’ - especially considering it was probably quite generous given the state she was in - gave Madeline the usual rush she got whenever he complimented her and she bit back a smile as she cringed at the thought of what she might have said.

“Well, I do feel a lot better,” she assured him. “My chest is still tight and I ache all over, but getting some sleep definitely made me feel less like a zombie than I did when you got home.”

“I’m glad to hear that, but I’m sorry you guys had such a rough night.”

“It’s alright,” Madeline sighed. “I’m sorry that we’re kinda ruining your week off…”

“You’re not ruining it at all,” Chris insisted, his voice firm almost as if he was offended by the idea. “I’m happy that I can be here to help you.”

“Well, I appreciate it because I know it’s not ideal.”

“Seems kinda ideal to me,” Chris shrugged. “Obviously I don’t want you guys to be sick, but it gives us an excuse to just stay home, cuddle on the couch and watch movies for a few days without worrying about anything but you guys resting up and getting better.”

His words had a tired smile sliding onto Madeline’s face as what he’d described sounded like exactly what she needed.

“That sounds like a dream,” she agreed. “As long as her fever stays down then a few worry free days of relaxation as a family sounds like a perfect way to spend Thanksgiving.”

“It does, and Ma said that if you guys are feeling better then we can go for dinner next week before I go back to work, but there’s no pressure.”

“That would be nice. I did call her this morning in a panic to ask how to get Gracie’s fever down, but I didn’t even think about Thanksgiving at that point,” Madeline admitted. “Did you apologize for me?”

“I said we were sorry we couldn’t come,” Chris nodded. “But she doesn’t mind, she gets it. Everyone was just worried about you two.”

Madeline was about to reply - telling Chris how grateful she was for his family’s constant love and support - but as he tried to offer Grace another spoonful of soup, it became clear that she’d had enough. The few hours she’d napped clearly weren’t enough to combat the exhaustion of being up all night the night before and her discomfort was clear in the scowl on her face as she roughly pushed the spoon away from her mouth, spilling its contents all over the tray of her high chair.

“Careful, Gracie,” Chris warned. “We don’t want to make a mess.”

His voice was soft and hardly scolding or harsh, but in her fragile state it was enough to have Grace dissolving into tears. The sudden deterioration of her mood surprised both of her parents, but Chris quickly leapt into action as he murmured some reassurance and apologized for upsetting her as he lifted her out of her chair. Her cough was quickly triggered by her hysterics, but as Madeline cringed at the harsh hacking sound, Chris took it all in stride as he patted her back and soothed her until she’d calmed down to a whimper again. 

Settling her on his hip, he used his free hand to swing open the fridge and grab the bottle of Grace’s favourite apple juice before pouring it into her sippy cup, topping it off with some water to cut down the sweetness and handing it to Grace. He did it all far more effortlessly than Madeline’s foggy brain could even comprehend and she felt another wave of gratitude that he’d come home to help them.

“I’ll take her to lie down for a bit,” Chris suggested as Grace rested her head on his shoulder, comforted by the drink in her hands. “I think another nap might do her some good.”

Madeline agreed and Chris paused on his way out of the kitchen to press a kiss against her head.

Once they were gone, she felt a slight pang of guilt that she wasn’t more able to comfort Grace in her time of need, but the pounding in her head was a good reminder that she needed to focus on getting herself better too. However, her inability to completely relax and be taken care of had her moving the dishes to the sink when she was finished with her soup and cleaning the mess off of Grace’s high chair. She felt weak and found herself leaning on the counter for support far more than normal, but she struggled on to rinse the bowls and she’d just finished loading them into the dishwasher when Chris returned.

“What are you doing?”

The words fell from Chris’ lips with a groan and Madeline shot him an innocent look.

“Just cleaning up the dishes.”

“You should have left them,” Chris frowned. “I would have done it.”

“I know,” Madeline smiled, quickly drying her hands before she moved closer to wrap her arms around his waist. “But you’ve already done so much for us today.”

“I’m happy to help,” he reminded her. “You should be resting.”

Madeline sighed out a soft ‘I know’, leaning into his embrace as he pulled her close and she let the warmth of his body sooth the aches that rippled through her. Chris had always made her feel safe. He’d been taking care of her long before they ever started dating and she’d always known that if she even implied that she needed help or support, Chris would move mountains to fix her problems in any way that he could. But despite how unwavering his support was, Madeline still felt like she fell in love with him a little bit more every time he rushed to her aide.

“Thank you,” she murmured against his chest. “For being such a great dad and an amazing husband.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Chris insisted. “I love you and I want to be here at times like this.”

“I know, but you always take such good care of us and I know how lucky I am to have someone like you.”

There was a moment of silence as Chris took in Madeline’s words before he leaned down to press a kiss against her hair.

“I’d do anything for you.”

“And I’d do the same for you,” she assured him before leaning back to flash him a smile. “But I can’t believe you actually made us soup…And I can’t believe that it actually tasted good!”

“Oh, wow,” Chris barked out a laugh, shaking his head at her disbelief. “I see how it is, you try to do something nice and it just gets thrown back in your face.”

“I’m not throwing it in your face,” Madeline protested. “I gave you a compliment!”

“Yeah, but you’re clearly surprised, which is pretty insulting.”

“Okay, but in my defense, your track record with cooking doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.” Her admission had a dramatic pout sliding onto Chris’ face - a look that Madeline noted he’d clearly passed on to their daughter - and she was powerless to resist as she quickly backtracked her statement. “Sorry, I don’t mean that, it’s just all the cold medicine making me delirious.”

Chris flicked his eyes to the clock on the stove before shooting her a doubtful look.

“It’s been too long for that excuse, most of the meds should be out of your system by now.”

“Then that’s what’s making me delirious,” Madeline argued weakly as a conveniently timed but genuine cough rattled her chest. “I’m so sick, Chris. Remember? You can’t hold anything I say against me right now.”

“Nice try,” Chris chuckled, rolling his eyes. “I guess I’ll let it slide this time, but you better be careful or I’ll never cook for you again.”

“You’re so dramatic.” 

Madeline’s words were teasing, but as they faded into a yawn, Chris’ protective side came out again.

“You need to rest,” he reminded her again. “You should go back to bed.”

“I just slept for almost nine hours,” she protested. “I should be able to stay awake for a little longer.”

“But you were making up for the sleep you missed last night,” Chris pointed out. “And you’re still sick. You’re weak and obviously still tired, you need as much sleep as you can get.”

“Fine,” Madeline huffed, knowing that - as much as it pained her to admit it - the thought of curling up in bed again was rather appealing. “But will you come with me?”

“Of course.”

Without hesitation, Chris moved his hands down to grip her thighs before effortlessly lifting her into his arms. At first, Madeline wanted to protest and insist that she was strong enough to walk to their bedroom by herself, but her need for comfort won out and she wrapped her legs around his waist for stability as she rested her head on his shoulder. It felt childish as she was well aware that he’d carried Grace to her bedroom in almost the exact same fashion, but the safety and security she felt as he held her was too hard to resist and she was very reluctant to slip out of his grasp even as he lowered her down onto their bed. 

Madeline snuggled down into the blankets as Chris slipped out of his jeans, but by the time he was crawling into bed with her, she could already feel herself drifting off to sleep. She fought it long enough to press herself against Chris’ side and rest her head on his chest, but her eyes soon became too heavy to keep open as she heard Chris mumble a soft ‘I told you so’ before she fell into another much needed sleep, feeling grateful to have such a loving husband.

-

Tags:  @maggotzombie​ @moonlacebeam​ @mizzzpink​ @flowery-mess​ @flowerjewels​ @hockeychick10​ @partypoison00​ @theladybiers​  @sidepieces​ @patzammit​ @sparkledfirecracker​ @mytbel0st​ @denisemarieangelina​ @elrw24​ @findthebeautyinbreakdowns​ @trottae17 @annvail​ @rach2602​ @sarahdonald87​ @firephotogrl74​ @ourfinest-hour​ @k-evans-writes​ @astheskycries​

[odinsblog]

are you disappointed that bree newsome wants trump reclected?

Bree Newsome is a prolific tweeter and I’ve looked, but I haven’t seen anywhere where she said that she wants Trump to be re-elected. Please send me the link to the specific tweet if I’m wrong.

I understand and agree with much of what Bree has been saying on Twitter though. I mean, I dO get it. I think her major concern is that 1) in some important ways, the difference between Trump’s policies and some of Biden’s policies has not been all that great, and 2) if Biden should win (definitely not a guarantee) liberals will go right back to brunch and act as if the problem is gone and everything is “okay” again.

As far as the first point goes, you don’t need to look any further than Biden’s Title 42; or how the Biden administration literally sued to keep using Trump’s previous racist immigration policies. Not a good look. And now, you’ve got Democrats trying to out-Republican Republicans by showing how tough cruel they can be to refugees who are legally seeking asylum at the Southern border. Bottom line, the immigration policies are white supremacy-lite, and some of the changes Biden is proposing—like forcing asylum seekers to wait in another country while the government takes its sweet time with endless immigration red tape—these changes will fundamentally change America’s immigration system, for the worse.

And that’s without me even touching on how badly Biden is fucking up with Palestine.

And as for the second point, conservative Democrats have gone back to brunch once orange man gone. Remember how hard Democrats came down on the Trump administration for their poor Coronavirus response? Yet now we have the CDC basically telling people to stay their asses at work even if they’ve tested positive for COVID. WTF?? Did I mention that measles are making a comeback?? And Biden isn’t saying anything, and neither are his surrogates. And so it is perhaps this tendency towards inaction(?) that is the most significantly damaging and damning aspect that creates disaffected voters who should be motivated to get rid of Trump and Republicans writ large —in a lot of ways that matter, disaffected voters don’t see any significant differences. Sure, the stock market is doing great, but people are getting their asses kicked on a lot of day-to-day, kitchen table issues. Unemployment is down, but a lot of people still have to work multiple jobs to make ends meet.

So yeah, I won’t be dismissive or derisive about Bree Newsome. She’s making some really valid points for anyone who is willing to actually listen.

Now that all said, I think that there is something fundamentally wrong that people are missing when they say misguided things like, “We survived one Trump administration, and we can survive another one.” A lot of marginalized groups and oppressed people won’t survive a second Trump administration. They just won’t.

Because if you thought it was bad the last time, I promise you the next Trump administration won’t be anything like the last one. Last time Trump was unprepared and didn’t even expect to win, so they made rookie mistakes. That won’t happen next time. The next Trump administration will be stacked from top to bottom with diehard Trump loyalists who will ruthlessly execute his most racist policies, foreign and domestic. (See also: Project 2025).

And yes, Biden is 100% for shit on his policy of standing by Israel no matter what. People who agree with Bree think that we will, more or less, have the same kind of problems under Trump that we’re having under Biden now. Those people are what I like to call deadass wrong.

Literally EVERYTHING will become exponentially worse in a second Trump term. For everyone who isn’t a wealthy, cisgender heterosexual white male.

Just imagine America with a Republican controlled House and Senate. Goodbye Medicare and Social Security. Goodbye labor laws. So long minimum wages. See ya, state local and federal courts not totally stacked with Federalist Society judges. It was nice knowing you, “shithole” countries full of people who I love and care about.

Look, I finally figured out something that used to bother me when I first became politically aware: it bugged tf out of me whenever I heard someone say, “THIS is the most important election everrrr!! Because THIS time, democracy itself is on the line!” Pfft. I was like a lot of people I see now, saying “But that’s what you said about the last election.” The truth is, every election is pretty much life or death. Every single one. Because elections aren’t like something you do once, and then afterwards everything is all good forever and ever. Maybe it should be, but you got assholes like Mitch McConnell and Ron DeSantis and Trump and whoever comes after them, you got people who will always be trying their hardest to constantly make shit worse for everyone who isn’t wealthy and white. They aren’t going away. So we can’t go away either. Because the moment we checkout and go back to brunch, they get right back to working on their usual transphobic, homophobic, misogynistic, racist, bullshit culture wars.

So as long as Republicans, Libertarians and conservative “Democrats” keep punching in, we gotta punch in too.

I wanna be really clear about something here: Joe Biden has done some very good things (like capping the cost of insulin), but he has also been, in many ways (not all), a terrible “Democratic” president. Biden is far too enamored of “bipartisanship,” and reaching across the aisle (to people who do not want to compromise), and Biden is far far too enamored of the non-existent good old days™ when Republicans weren’t the evil pieces of shit that they are now, and he takes far too long to change his position on important issues. Like Palestine.

But yeah, (can’t believe I’M saying this) he’s definitely better than a second Trump term will be. And even if he’s slow to change positions, at least he can be persuaded. Trump can’t.

I’m not white and I’m not rich. I am terrified of a second Trump term. I’m basically a single issue voter now, and my issue is keeping Trump out of office and HOPEFULLY making him pay for every single law he’s broken.

[loserchildhotpants]

i have the distinct feeling i’m going to die relatively soon.

it’s not Thee Anxiety™️ — i know what that feels like.

i was in the passenger seat today, we were driving toward dark grey clouds, and i got that feeling all along the inside of my body, the same feeling i’ve been getting for weeks, that something is on its way to me.

that maybe it’s a cancer lying low, there won’t be any signs until my next blood test with my primary, or it will be a complication from COVID, or COVID itself. or maybe an accident.

this is not the certainty of death accompanied by the urge to go to the ER, spikes of cortisol and adrenaline telling me i’m having a cardiac event that will kill me imminently. this is different. im not feeling fear or anxiety, just this vague awareness.

while in the passengers side today, i wanted to share the feeling, just voice it, but i realized i couldn’t without sounding alarmingly unwell.

the feeling is not ‘i am actively dying right now’ it’s more ‘the events that will lead to my death have already been set into motion.’

it’s like i can smell it in the air, or hear it from a ways off. not like a stampede coming for me, but rather a storm front not yet visible headed my way— but i can feel in the air that it will surely rain soon.

i hope i’m wrong. i hope this is just a new, cool, sexy thing my anxiety disorders are up to these days, but i dunno.

my craft is usually with Hecate and the Morrigan, and in recent weeks, i found an abandoned key (small, rusted, i kept it as i kept all the random keys i found throughout my childhood), i keep catching corvids in 3’s which is especially odd in my neighborhood because there are so many stray cats (strange to see a surge of bird activity).

i think im meant to address my oracle cards, but im sort of scared?

something is knocking, i suppose. it feels like an end of sorts, possibly my own physical death, but it’s hard to tell anyone i love ‘hey, im p sure im gonna die soon — there have been several black birds, i found a seemingly ancient key in a place it had no business being, and i have this extremely vague sense of something impending.’

again, im not worried abt it really, im not feeling anxious, im just feeling Something. and its different than a gut feeling, its like a feeling in the parts of me that are outside of me. its a feeling in my astral self, almost.

idk.

it helped to write this out, i guess

[that-punk-adam]

I wish there was a better way of just…. [vague hand gestures]

Housing. Is such a pain. To get and maintain.

Rent. You never own it. $1.4k a MONTH for a poorly designed and maintained closet with NO amenities included in that rent. A single person cannot afford to live alone anymore because I guess we decided to not start burning shit down once $7.20 is a federal minimum that isn’t sustaining whatsoever. It can pay a phone bill and feed you some days. Car insurance, gasoline, maintenance on a car, food, water, gas (utility), electric. You’re super lucky if you’re going to get 3k a month after taxes.

I had to hunt online for housing. I had to apply to places, average $25-50, to get denied at most because husband doesn’t have a job because he wasn’t living in the city full time. You need a car to go ANYWHERE in this fucking country. Car = insurance, payment, gasoline, maintenance. $500? $600? $800? On top of rent + bills. On a single income just a tad over 2.3k after taxes. We didn’t have a vehicle for a while and when we asked (begged) my in-laws (his sister + her wife) for help with a car, they had to drive to Kentucky for the cheapest thing they could find bc there was no way in hell for me to save anything. Nothing at all. After the online nonsense we had to wake up as early as possible for him to drive to these locations, all 20+ minutes away from each other, on a crunched schedule, on what would be considered a ‘last moments notice’. If I was on a 9-5 schedule there would have been zero hope of ever getting out of my parents house short of running away because the modern world only runs between 9a to 6p.

Finally, a paid off car. In-laws back into it and bust the radiator to hell. Totaled. No car. We didn’t even get the insurance and title switched over. They were going not even 5 miles and killed it. Now on our own we won’t ever have a car unless he can work (????) and we manage to have no accidents or try to enjoy life too much.

I was 2 minutes late today after waiting on a ride that took almost 15 minutes to get to the unit we finally managed to get. The second driver got to my workplace as fast as he could but it was still 2 minutes too late. The apartment hunting made me late repeatedly. We almost had a roommate and I had to be late for that too. I was so sick I couldn’t even be awake 2 times in the span of 2 months and I’m convinced it was a nasty variant of covid. Testing isn’t accurate anymore and those tests cost $20/each, not (100%) covered by insurance, and you ‘should’ use at least 4 tests over the span of 3 days.

Y’all. I have only been in the work force for 4 ish years and I am ready to retire. If I loose this position I’m not even going to attempt to look for anything else. I’m going to leave society and if I die then oh well. The concept of being born for the purpose of working until you die is the most cruel and unethical thing I could ever do to another human being. I love my hypothetical children so much that they will never exist. I love my hypothetical children that I will do everything in my power to make sure they are never conceived. There is nothing worst then to be born into this form of slavery and to never to be able to opt out of it except for death.

[jj-nhlgirly]

Summer of Love:- August 4th 2020

Jack Hughes X F!Reader

AN:- I have decided to make Summer of Love into a series!! This post is gonna be a flashback to the day Jack and Mackenzie became official and met. Anyone on the phone talking to Mackenzie will be in bold. Also for the sake of this series COVID never happened 🙏🏼

And massive shoutout and credit to @llhughess for helping me with this 🫶🏼

TW:- Underage Drinking

(Not my gif, credits to who made it)

June 19th 2020

Mackenzie was sitting in the living room of the dorm room she shared with her lifelong best friend and field hockey teammate Kaylee Johnson, waiting for Kaylee to get back from the store so they could get ready for the party happening at one of the frat houses. The girls on the field hockey team had decided to throw a late party to celebrate their wins last weekend and Mackenzie’s up coming birthday on the 21st, they couldn’t celebrate last weekend due to back to back games. Mackenzie wasn’t sure why but she had a weird feeling that something was going to happen at the party, Was it a good feeling or a bad feeling? Mackenzie wasn’t sure.

Suddenly Mackenzie’s phone started ringing, reaching for her phone she saw a familiar name across the screen “Pookie💜”. Answering immediately Mackenzie was instantly greeted, “Hey Kenz, how’s my favourite sister?” “… I’m your only sister Skylar but I’m good just waiting for Kaylee to get back from the store, we’re going to a party tonight to celebrate our wins” “Oh Kaylee!!! Tell her I said hello and I miss her!” “I will, how was school?” “ Oh you know boring as usual, I got 97% in that US history test I was studying for last night on call” “97%!! See I told you! You had nothing to worry about!” After catching up with her sister for a half hour, Mackenzie finally said goodbye. “Right Sky I’ll let you go now, you’ve still gotta walk Nerf before Mom comes home.” “You say walk but it’s more like chase him around the house for 15 minutes because he won’t let me put his harness on” “If you sit on the floor he’ll let you do it, that’s what I do when I’m home but have fun and be safe. Remember to message me when your home so I know your safe.” “ I will, have fun at the party and be safe! I love you Bambi” “ I love you more Pookie bye.”

As soon as Mackenzie hung up, the door opened and in walked Kaylee arms full with various bags. Kenzie rushed over to help before she dropped anything. “Kay you’ve been gone for ages, I thought I was gonna have to send out a search party” Kenzie giggled, Kaylee huffed and rolled her eyes “ If you were gonna miss me so much you should have come with me.” “I couldn’t, I was waiting for my daily dose of Skylar” Mackenzie replied, instantly smiling at the thought of her younger sister. “Oh yeah!! Did she call already? Did I miss our little ray of sunshine?” Kaylee replied sounding a little sad. “Yeah she just hung up, she told me to tell you she said hi and she misses you” Kenzie said still smiling before adding “and on that note I’m heading for the shower, wanna put our nashville playlist on? I don’t know about you but I’m missing home a little more today.” And with that Kenzie left to shower. After washing her hair and shaving her legs, Mackenzie left the shower shouting for Kaylee to let her know it was free before heading to her room to get ready. Mackenzie had decided to go fairly simple with her outfit tonight, opting for a black spaghetti strap dress which reached her mid thigh, a denim jean jacket and some white air force. Mackenzie then went into the kitchen to make Kaylee and herself a drink, keeping it simple with a Malibu and cola, she brought them into her room knowing Kaylee liked Kenzie to do her makeup for her in the same way Kenzie liked Kaylee to do her hair.

After sipping her drink and seating herself in her desk chair, Kenzie started her makeup occasionally stopping to reply in the “Powerpuff Girls❤️” groupchat that consisted of Mackenzie, Kaylee, Olivia, Freya and Maddy the other girls on the team that considered themselves best friends, and to sing along to the playlist. At some point Kaylee had joined wearing a pale blue skirt and crop top co-ord and white air forces, sitting next to Kenzie starting on her hair as Kenzie finished her makeup, soon the girls were swapping places and before they knew it, it was time to add the finishing touches as they waited for the Uber Kaylee had ordered. Kenzie spraying perfume and putting on her jewellery and Kaylee spraying hairspray and making sure she had everything in her bag.

The girls arrived at the party fashionably late as usual, greeting the rest of the team and a few of the frat boys they were close friends with, the party was already in full swing. People dancing in the living room, there was a bouncy castle in the backyard and beer pong, a few deck chairs for people to chill outside on. As Kenzie and Kaylee made their way to the kitchen, they walked past 3 boys who’d they’d never seen before. Granted this was a college party there were bound to be students they didn’t know here but with being on the field hockey team the girls prided themselves on knowing the majority of people here tonight. As they passed them, one boy in particular caught Mackenzie’s eye, he wasn’t as tall as the other guys he was with but he was definitely taller than her. He had the most mesmerising blue eyes that Kenzie couldn’t help but feel drawn to them, his hair was a little long but he pulled it off and without a second thought Mackenzie locked eyes with him, gave him a small smile and a little wave before heading into the kitchen.

“Kenzie you dirty dog, I saw you checking that boy out” a familiar voice called out, turning around instantly Mackenzie saw Freya, instantly pulling her into a bear hug, Kenzie replied “Frey sweets did you see him, that boy was something else. I might talk to him later if I see him again.” Freya smiled widely at her friend, “you absolutely should, but don’t forget our plan to run to Vegas, elope and become the weird lesbian aunts!!” Kenzie full belly laughed at that and teasingly replied “oh how could I ever forget that plan gorgeous.” Both girls giggled before making themselves a drink, Kenzie also made one for Kaylee as she was too busy chatting to Maddy and Olivia.

The girls were stood off to the corner of the living room with a few of the frat boys. Jaden had his arm slung around Freya, as they chatted amongst themselves about the games last week, that was until Kenzie felt a slight tap on her shoulder at first she thought that someone had just poked her by accident on their way past as she was facing toward the wall but she felt it again with a slight excuse me thrown in there. Kenzie turned around with furrowed eyebrows to be met with the cute boy from earlier, she instantly replaced the furrowed eyebrows with a bright smile, “Hey gorgeous, how can I help ya?” Kenzie spoke first, smirking slightly when she saw a faint flush to the boys cheeks. “Hey I was just wondering if you wanted to maybe dance for a little?” The boy replied. “Of course sweets, what’s ya name?” “Oh right, I’m Jack. Jack Hughes” “Well Jack Hughes, I’m Mackenzie Havener, lead the way” Kenzie gave a quick look to her group smiling to them and nodding to the boys to reassure them that she would be ok, quickly leaning in to speak to Jaden “I’ll stay where you guys can see me and if I get into any trouble I’ll follow our usual procedure” and with that Mackenzie was following Jack into the crowd.

The procedure Mackenzie was referring to was simple, if any of the girls or boys for that matter felt unsafe or uncomfortable they would either message the groupchat they all had if they could, tap their nose three times or speak up if within ear shot and ask whomever they were with if they liked family guy. The last one was kinda random which is why it worked as it’s not something any of them would ask someone.

As Jack and Mackenzie made their way to the dance floor, dancing along to the music Mackenzie wrapped both arms around the back of Jacks neck as his rested at a respectful level on her small waist. Every time Mackenzie would try to talk to Jack she’d have to step on her tip toes or Jack would have to lean down due to the height difference. After spending an hour or so on the dance floor, the pair made their way to the kitchen to grab a drink and head outside as Kenzie had spotted the Scooby Gang as she liked to call them heading that way. Making it outside Kenzie saw the girls on the bouncy castle, running quickly she kicked her shoes off and dove on top of Olivia and Maddy. Jack walked over laughing slightly and looking mesmerised at the sight of the gorgeous girl laughing with her friends without a care in the world. “Our Kenz is something special aye?” Jack was drawn out of his day dream by a voice next to him looking over he saw a tall boy with blonde hair and kind green eyes smiling at him. Cody must have noticed the confused look on Jacks face. “Oh sorry, I’m Cody. I’m best friends with those bunch of lunatics.” Cody chuckled and so did Jack. “I’m Jack, nice to meet you. Are they all this crazy?” Cody laughed harder at that, “oh sweet innocent Jack you don’t know the half of it.” Jack went to reply before a voice as sweet as sugar interrupted “Cody can you take a picture of us” Kenzie asked smiling brightly. “Of course Kenny-bear” Cody replied reaching for her phone.

Soon after the bouncy castle the party was starting to slow, and after multiple attempts made by Cody, Jaden, Hunter, Chase and Preston for the girls to stay here for tonight. The girls were leaving in Ubers, all accept Kaylee and Kenzie who were still waiting, Kaylee wrapped in Preston’s arms for warmth and Jack and Mackenzie chatting away they’d exchanged Instagrams and numbers and had even arranged a date, “Hey Mackenzie, would you like to maybe hang out again sometime? Maybe go get brunch next Saturday?” Jack asked nervously, he wouldn’t normally be this forward with someone he just met especially since he was worried girls would just use him because of his career path and family name but with Mackenzie it felt different. He felt he could be himself, he was drawn to her like a magnet. “Jack you can call me Kenzie or Kenz I really don’t mind, and yeah I’d love to, message me when and I’ll be there” she replied giving him a warm smile and with that she was giving him a hug and kiss on the cheek as their Uber had arrived. Just like Jack, Mackenzie felt drawn to him, like a moth to a flame, she couldn’t describe it but as she hugged him she felt like a blot of lightning struck her it was an addictive feeling that she wished would never go.

Skip to August 4th 2020

This was officially the best day of Mackenzie’s life, after the party her and Jack had talked more, FaceTimed whilst he was away or she was away, went on numerous dates around New Jersey but right in this very moment, after another date at a local diner Jack had officially asked Mackenzie to be his. “Kenzie, I don’t know what to say other than the fact that meeting you that night was the best thing to ever happen to me. You’re such a ray of sunshine, I’ve never met anyone as beautiful inside and out, talented, amazing, passionate and loving as you. So I want to ask you this because hell we both know it’s long over due, will you be my girlfriend?” Mackenzie didn’t even reply she just threw herself at him smiling brightly and kissing him, “Of course Jack, of course I’ll be your girl.”

Liked by jackhughes, Skylar.Grace, Kay.Johnson and 127,456 others

Kenzie.Havener throwback to the day I met @jackhughes can’t believe this was nearly 3 years ago now 🫶🏼😭

Photo creds 📸:- @Cody_Griffin @Chase.Lukas

Tagged:- @Kay.Johnson @Olivia.Autumn @Frey.Lodge @Maddy.Elizabeth @Cody_Griffin @Jaden_Roman @Chase.Lukas @Preston.Thomas @jackhughes

jackhughes the best damn nearly 3 years of my life baby, I love you ♥️🫶🏼

lhughes_06 THREE YEARS! No way, thank you for your kind charity work @Kenzie.Havener 🫡

_quinnhughes I still remember him calling me the next day telling me and I quote “Dude I’m not even kidding, i met the love of my life last night” at first I didn’t believe him but here we are 🫠

Kenzie.Havener I love you baby boy 🫶🏼♥️

User3467 This is the content we need!! Thank you for your service Queen Kenzie 🫡👸🏼

Kay.Johnson damnnn we are so hot I cannot 🥵🥵

Kenzie.Havener we love a humble Queen, but yes we are so hot I cannot handle it

Skylar.Grace look at my beautiful sister 😭, I aspire to look like that when I’m older 🫶🏼

Kenzie.Havener ERM EXCUSE ME!! Did I not teach you anything about self love, you are beautiful Sky I love you so much Pookie😙♥️

Skylar.Grace I love you so much Bambi 💜

elblue6 Thank you @Kenzie.Havener for making my boy so happy ❤️

Kenzie.Havener oh Ellen you’re welcome, thank you for raising such an amazing boy to love. Come visit soon the girls and I miss you so much 🫶🏼

elblue6 I will soon!! I miss you and the girls 🫶🏼

The end of part 2, as I said this will be a series. Sorry for the odd flashback but I felt like it needed it 🫶🏼

[the-iron-shoulder]

getting a covid booster is kinda psychologically weird

it’s September 2024 so this is my, what, sixth covid shot or something like that? I forget how many I’ve had, but I get boosted regularly. Point is, I know the drill. I know it’s gonna make me feel like shit for 2-3 days and that’s just all there is to it. But I still voluntarily sign up for it (vaccinations are good! Get vaccinated! Get boosted!!), which means that basically I’m scheduling ahead of time when I’m going to be sick.

So that means I’m having Very Normal Thoughts like oh no, I won’t be able to go to that event in two weeks, I’ll be sick that day. I’m going to be sick later so I’d better make sure I’m stocked up on food and stuff before that happens. I’d better pick my time to be sick so it doesn’t interfere with stuff I’ve already planned.

just, y’know, most of the time that’s extremely not how being sick works. It’s like, the least schedulable thing! Hits you when you least expect it and you can’t just anticipate it happening on a specific day next week! But this is a Special Sick that happens when I say it happens (but I must, indeed, let it happen). Just a very different experience. I’m sure that there are some other medical procedures people go through that have a similar effect, but I don’t personally experience those right now, so it’s still just bizarre to me to schedule being sick.

still do it anyway, though! Vaccines are Good! I’ve never had a detectable case of covid (I can’t prove that I’ve never had an asymptomatic case, but I’ve for sure never had a symptomatic case because I test whenever I start feeling sick in any way and I test when I’m in contact with people who are sick, and I’ve never yet tested positive for it, so… boosting regularly and masking in public is seeming to work for me) and I think the boosters help with that! So I still regularly set myself up for the Special Sick… it’s just a strange thing overall.

[outrunningthedark]

It’s funny you mention one of the unknown factors being how is Ryan going to act this season in regards to his female LI, with him being free of C and all that drama. It’s a very valid point and I’m curious to see myself if and how that affects anything, but I say it’s funny because I’m sure there are people that are going to go down fighting that the fact the first real bts he shared for the new season, and just in general at all for the first time in forever, was that insta story with Oliver and Aisha in the makeup/hair chairs and Oliver being the “main” focus of it, are answer enough of where he stands.

I’m being 100% serious when I say this new relationship is the ultimate test of both the show’s and Ryan’s feelings on Eddie’s current arc.

Sure, it was easy to think of Eddie as a repressed gay man when there was no intimacy on screen between he and Ana, but the fact of the matter is that he had a toddler and newborn at home at a time when the studios were doing everything they could to prevent the spread of COVID (to avoid shutting down).

Eddie got to be single for the rest of season five. He formed friendships with Linda and May and never really knew Lucy.

People have a differing opinion than me (maybe we define chemistry differently), but I see season six as an extension of season five.

“Eddie and Marisol had no connection.” Her brother almost died. Not the time. (But also…let’s not forget Eddie showing up at her door - with Buck and a group of friends - and how random it seemed.)

Felisa? I would say they had a foundation for friendship, not romance.

Vanessa? It was easy because neither one was supposed to be interested. Again, more of a friendship than physical attraction.

Season seven, though? Feels make-or-break, to me.

If Eddie isn’t supposed to be queer in canon, if Ryan isn’t expecting that to be confirmed, a move to a new network means establishing Eddie as the Straight One (&with a gf at the moment).

Do we see anything different? More…effort? More affection? Is Ryan at ease because his kids are older (and his opinions have changed…) and the ex won’t be inserting herself into his work life?

It’s easy to say “Omfg we’re about to get Ana 2.0” when you have your own ideas of who Eddie should be with.

But what if the people making the decisions don’t agree?

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Love In The Time of Covid: Chapter Two

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

chapter rating: M (talk of Covid/early pandemic, one racy picture, dad!frankie, talks of lockdown, mentions of a previous addiction, i think that’s it?)

word count: 3.6k

authors note: this story is set literally right before the world was sent into full lockdown (march-ish), hence why Frankie is still hanging out with Santi. also, as a swiftie i know Folklore came out in July of 2020 but we’re gonna pretend like it came out in March instead bc i can’t get enough of folklore!frankie :)

series masterlist

Today was the first day after Frankie’s two week quarantine, the negative test result sheet in his hand bringing a smile to his face as he left the clinic to head back home. He had a very busy weekend ahead of him, but before he could enjoy it, he had to break down and clean up his now trashed apartment.

The first thing he did when he got home was fix himself a bowl of cereal, devouring it in record time—something he never seemed to unlearn after his time in the military. After he was finished, he turned on his speaker and connected his phone, his music shuffling until he landed on his favorite song at the moment, singing out the lyrics unabashedly.

“SWEET TEA IN THE SUMMER, CROSS MY HEART WON’T TELL NO OTHER—“ Frankie was in the middle of scrubbing the pile of dishes in his sink when his phone stopped playing music, his ringtone blaring instead. Wiping his hands on a paper towel, he walked over to it on the table and grabbed it, seeing his ex’s name on his screen. With a sigh, he slid the green arrow and lifted the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, you’re supposed to have Alondra this week.” He rolled his eyes at her tone.

“Yes.”

“Okay…so…where are you? I’ve got shit to do, Frankie. Can’t wait around all day for you to decide to pick up your daughter.” Frankie lifted the phone from his ear and flipped the screen off before bringing it back.

“I’m cleaning my apartment up, Viviana. I’ll be at your place in a fucking hour. Is that fine? Can your shit wait until then? Or would you like our child to come back to my dirty apartment?” He only heard a sigh in response before she ended the phone call, tossing his phone back onto the table and pressing play. “PACK YOUR DOLLS AND A SWEATER. WE’LL MOVE TO INDIA FOREVER.”

He shuffled around his one bedroom apartment with purpose, excited to not only have Alondra back in his arms this weekend, but also because of the park date he and Mariposa—a nickname he so lovingly bestowed upon his new love after learning that she had not one, but five different butterfly tattoos (though he had yet to learn their locations)—set for the next afternoon.

Walking into his bedroom, he scratched his head as he took in the boxes of un-assembled furniture—a crib, a changing table, and a dresser. He let out a huff and rubbed the hair on his chin, feeling that familiar itch to soothe his stress with illegal substances. He shook his head at the mere thought of relapsing and turned around, heading into the kitchen to grab his phone, ignoring the urge to call Mariposa up—he didn’t want their first date to be assembling furniture—and instead choosing Santi’s contact.

“Look who it is!” Santi beamed through the video call, Frankie chuckling at his enthusiasm. “You covid-free finally?”

“Yeah, I’m picking up Alondra in a half hour, but I still need to put together the furniture I got for her. You get tested recently?”

“Yeah, me and la novia went yesterday because we’ve got a flight to Texas coming up this week.”

“Could I possibly steal you away from her and get some help tonight?” Frankie asked with his best smile, Santi groaning dramatically. “C’mon, I have beer.”

“Oh, sure then, yeah. I’m down. Come pick me up after you secure the bebé.”

“Alright be there in about an hour.”

•••

“Frankie,” Viviana greeted him with a glare, arms crossed over her chest as she stood in the doorway. “You’re late.”

Frankie looked down at his watch, brows furrowed.

“I’m three minutes late.” He argued through his mask, only receiving an eye roll before she was walking him inside the home he used to share with her.

It hadn’t always been this way with Viviana. When they first met five years ago, she was a carefree grad-student studying to be a veterinarian. Kindness and affection radiated from her, catching his eye immediately at some house party Benny dragged him to. What began as a coked-up fuck in a strangers bathroom soon evolved to a full on relationship full of a lot of ups and downs—mostly downs—until the surprise conception of their baby girl. Now, all he could see when he looked at her were the many red flags he chose to ignore right up until a few months ago when she made the choice for him—and thank god she did.

“Oh hey, man. Nice to finally meet you.” Frankie’s jaw clenched as he spotted his replacement sitting at the kitchen table he helped pick out feeding his daughter with a casual smile. Frankie turned to Viviana, whispering to her with his back turned to her boyfriend.

“I asked you to not bring him around—“

“You’re not around, Frankie. I needed help.” She spat, Frankie scoffing at her argument.

“I was sick. With fucking Covid. Remember? The shit going around killing people that we know like nothing about?” She breezed past him, ignoring his valid defense and lifting Alondra from her high chair. Frankie accepted his daughter into his arms gladly, kissing her cheek through the cotton of his mask a few times before looking down at her, her grin growing wide until she let out a laugh. He kissed her forehead again, having missed the sound of his happy baby girl more than he’d ever missed anything.

“Remember, she’s allergic to bananas so look at all the labels before—“

“I know, V.” He shrugged on her diaper bag, allowing his ex to say goodbye to their daughter before the two were on their way.

“Hola cabrón!” Santi greeted Frankie with a smile, slipping into the passenger seat and patting his shoulder before turning around to look at Alondra in the backseat, reaching to pinch her foot. “Hola, muñecita.”

“We gotta stop at the store so I can grab some baby shit.” Frankie was still tense after his not-so nice reunion with the mother of his child, Santi quickly taking note of his attitude.

“Didn’t go well?” He asked carefully, Frankie looking over at him with an unamused look.

“She had her guy over. Fucking feeding Alondra like he’s her dad.” He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road as he drove to the nearest Target. “And V was finding any fucking reason to make me feel like shit. I never realized it back when we were together, but she’s so fucking…annoying.”

“Yeah, we all caught onto that pretty early on.”

“And yet no one thought to tell me?” Santi couldn’t help but chuckle at the question. They all very much had told Frankie about their distaste for Viviana, he just never listened.

“You’re ridiculous,” he chuckled again, shaking his head as he looked back at Alondra squawking in the backseat. “Que pasa, niña? What’re you squawking about?”

Frankie’s phone lit up as it rested on the dash mount, Santi chuckling and teasing him as he read the contact name, “Mariposa 🦋”.

“Who’s that, huh? Frankie’s got a girlfriend?” He teased, nudging Frankie’s side with a shit eating grin, Frankie rolling his eyes and chuckling against his will.

“It’s the delivery girl,” he told him your name and Santi ooo-ed at the blush on his friends face. “Can you stop smiling like that and be useful? Open it for me, man.”

“Sure thing, pal.” Santi kept his grin on as he lifted the phone off the mount and opened it up, his eyes going wide at the sight of a racy photo on the screen. “Jesus, Fish!”

“What?” Frankie looked over at caught a glimpse of the picture, quickly snatching it from Santi’s hands and locking it. “What the fuck man?”

“What the fuck to you! You told me to open it!” He laughed through his defense, Frankie’s cheeks now flushed red.

“I didn’t know that…I—fuck off.” Santi looked back at Alondra, getting the baby girl to join him in his laughter.

“Papá tiene una novia, mija.” Alondra giggled without having a clue what he was saying. “Yeah, that’s funny, huh?”

“I shoulda called Benny.”

•••

You weren’t exactly sure what came over you.

Frankie had been a complete gentleman the entire week that the two of you had been talking, never once pulling anything or pushing you into the typical sexting shit that men usually tried this early on. He was consistent and honest, interesting and funny—checking every single box you had, which wasn’t an easy feat.

Somehow, your appreciation for him turned into horniness which then turned into a mini-photo shoot in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom, eager to reward him for his very gentlemanly behavior and possibly get a glimpse of what he was like beyond it.

Your modesty was covered only by a skimpy thong and your arm over your breasts, your makeup and hair done up more than it would usually be on a Friday afternoon. You took a few different photos from different angles, but landed on an angle that showed off your curves best, pressing the blue arrow without second thought so that you wouldn’t lose your nerve.

“What the fuck did you just do, idiot?” You scolded yourself as you laid face first on your mattress. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off or come across as a creep who only wanted to fuck.

Thirty minutes had passed, your hands busy baking copious amounts of banana bread to keep the anxiety at bay. You felt like shit, ruining the first genuine connection you’d felt in a long time because you were horny? Idiot.

Right as you stuffed the next few loaf tins in the oven, your phone buzzed on the counter, your heart sinking to your feet at the sound. You almost didn’t want to look at it, your hope far too high to be let down by someone else’s name on the screen, but you couldn’t keep your curiosity at bay. Reaching for the phone, you gasped at the sight of “Rocketman ✈️” gracing your screen, your nickname for him after the two of you watched the film together over Zoom a couple days ago.

F: Mariposa, you’re so fucking beautiful. You trying to give me a heart attack in Target?

You giggled, looking around you at the mess of your panic baking as you thought up a witty response.

M: No heart attacks until you see me in person.

F: Deal.

F: What kind of wine do you like, bebita? I’m getting stuff for our picnic tomorrow.

You melted onto the counter, groaning at his sweet thoughtfulness.

M: Are you real?

F: Unfortunately yeah

M: I like you a lot, Rocketman. And anything pink, please!

F: I like you, Mariposa. A shit ton. My friend is here laughing at me as I type this because of my stupid fucking grin.

F: And you got it, anything else you want? Fruit, sweets, cheese? You name it, bebita.

M: I’m blushing like a fucking idiot, Frankie. You’re too cute. And no, your company and a glass of wine is perfect.

F: Sounds good, sweetheart.

A half hour passed before your phone buzzed again, Frankie’s contact on your screen again. You bit your lip as you opened the message, chuckling when you read it.

F: Hey this is Santi, Frankie’s real novia. Here’s your man.

M: Tell the guy on the right he’s hot

F: He’s blushing

F: Now he’s trying to take the phone awafbdhsu

F: Santi is an idiot, sorry you had the misfortune of talking to him, Mariposa.

M: Sounds like I’m gonna have to share you 🤨

F: He wishes.

F: I’m driving right now, but I’ll call you later on, pretty girl. Miss your voice 💞

M: Miss your voice, too. Be safe, pretty boy. 😘

•••

“Did you hear they’re talking about forcing everyone into fucking quarantine? Like shutting shit down?” Santi asked as he and Frankie sat together on his sofa, Alondra bouncing in her playseat while the boys drank beer and watched Frankie’s current comfort show, Nathan For You. “Can you imagine? Not being allowed to see anybody, having to stay in your fucking house all day long?”

“Sounds like what I’m already doing,” Frankie shrugged.

“No, puto. You wouldn’t get to hang out with me or the guys, wouldn’t get to see your girl, and I’m sure it’s not gonna make your split custody situation any easier.” Frankie turned to him with a concerned look. “Hey, but it’s all just talk for now. I’m sure it’s not gonna get that bad.”

“Let’s hope,” Frankie turned back to the screen, lifting his beer to his lips before pulling his phone out of his pocket. The realization that there might come a day soon that he wouldn’t have physical access to Mariposa made him all the more excited for their date tomorrow. “Hey, I’m gonna go down for a smoke. Can you watch Alondra?”

“Sure thing, Fish.”

Frankie made his way downstairs to the parking lot of his apartment complex, taking a cigarette out and lighting it as he waited for her to pick up his FaceTime.

“Hi, Rocketman.” Mariposa beamed at him through the screen with a playful grin.

“Hey, Mariposa,” he smiled back, leaning against the bumper of his jeep. “Are you busy?”

“No, just finishing up a paper. What are you up to? Is Alondra settled in?”

“Yeah, she’s inside with Santi. We just put together her crib, her changing table thing, and now we just have to finish up with the dresser.” He took an inhale of his cigarette and breathed it out, eyes fixed on her undone state, blown away that she somehow looked even better like this—hair in a bun, reading glasses on, an oversized sweatshirt with a stain on it. “Santi, uh, he just killed my mood a bit. He’s pretty good at that, you’ll come to realize when you get to know him.”

“What did he say?” She asked with a furrow in her brows, tone laced with concern.

“He just reminded me about the fact that we might all go on lockdown soon. Gonna make it a bitch to see Alondra…and to see you.” Mariposa gave him an empathetic smile, tilting her head at him. “If that happens, you know, mandatory quarantine or whatever…I guess I just wanted to let you know that I’m not going anywhere. You know? Even if we can’t see each other in person for a while, I, uh…I really like you, so—I guess I just wanted to tell you that I’m here. I’m in it.”

“I’m in it too, Frankie,” she beamed again. “Seriously, I…haven’t ever connected like this with someone before. So…a little lockdown isn’t gonna change that.”

“Good,” he chuckled shyly and nodded, eyes bouncing across her features adoringly.

“So…about that picture I sent earlier,” she bit her lip and looked away from the camera as she chuckled. “It wasn’t too much, right? I don’t want you to think that’s all I’m after or anything. I just…was in a mood, I guess and you’ve been such a gentleman, I just got a little…worked up over the thought of you.”

“Worked up, huh?” Frankie smirked and looked around at the empty parking lot before speaking again. “No, bebita, it wasn’t too much. Believe me when I say I’ve been thinking about it since you sent it.”

“I could…send another? If you’d like?” She gave him a hopeful smile before biting her lip again, Frankie having to calm his lower half at the sound of her voice turning just a bit more sultry than usual. As much as he wanted to see more of her, he also wanted to take it slow, not rush into anything and ruin the good thing that they were building.

“Mariposa, I’d love to see more of you, but what do you think about us taking it slow for now?” She looked shocked by his response, his heart rate speeding up as she went speechless. “Trust me, I want to see you. You’re so beautiful, baby, but…I’ve jumped into a lot of shit in the past really quickly and I don’t want this to be rushed like that, you know?”

“No, I get it,” she nodded, her eyes meeting his again. “I’m just not used to men treating me as good as you do, Frankie. Gonna take some getting used to.”

“I just care about us creating something lasting, Mariposa. I like you too much to risk ruining it for sex,” she smiled at him, all trace of her earlier disappointment gone. “So…on another note, tomorrow we’re gonna have a third wheel, I hope that’s okay.”

“Well, it depends on if it’s Santi or Alondra. Santi—not okay. Alondra—very okay.” He chuckled and asked out his cigarette, smiling at the thought of Mariposa and Alondra together. If Viviana was going to have her partner around their kid, he no longer felt guilty over the thought of his new love meeting his daughter.

“Bebe, I can promise you, I wouldn’t subject you to Santi this early on.”

“How’d you two meet?”

Frankie sat outside for another half-hour talking to Mariposa about his past in the military, how he met Santi and the rest of the boys, how he ended up here in Florida. It wasn’t until Santi came walking over with Alondra in his arms that he realized how long he’d been gone, suddenly feeling incredibly selfish for leaving his baby girl with his friend for so long.

“She made a poo-poo,” Santi whispered, handing over the stinky baby to his friend.

“Is that Santi?” Mariposa asked and Frankie sighed.

“Yeah,” Santi looked full of mischief as he plucked the phone out of Frankie’s hands and ran through the parking lot, knowing that his friend wouldn’t try to chase him with his daughter in his arms. “Well, hello there,” Santi greeted with his winning smile. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Did you just kidnap me?” She asked with an amused smirk, eating popcorn.

“Yeah, he’s keepin’ pretty mum about you besides the blushing and grinning. So I guess I gotta figure out if you’re a killer or something myself.” Santi watched as Frankie walked at a careful pace towards him. “You collect dead animals or anything like that?”

“No, no dead animals, unfortunately. Just one live one.” Santi watched as the camera was flipped around to show off her cat that Frankie had already come to love, Miles.

“Frankie’s a dog guy, babe. It ain’t gonna work.” Santi shrugged, unimpressed.

“Oh yeah? Frankie says otherwise.”

“Well, yeah, he’s trying to butter you up. Trust me, sweetie, daddy knows him better than you do.” She laughed at that, Santi taking it as a green flag that she was so at ease with his teasing.

“Are you daddy?” Frankie reached him in time to hear her question, giving Santi a confused smile and a head tilt.

“She keeps calling me daddy, I don’t know where it’s coming from.”

“Yeah, right.” Frankie heard her scoff as he took his phone back, shaking his head into the camera, watching proudly as her eyes lit up at the sight of him. “I’m so glad you’re back. I think Santi’s trying to scare off his competition.”

“Yeah, he’s obsessed with me.” Frankie pushed Santi away from him playfully as they reached the stairs up to his apartment. “Mariposa, I gotta finish up this dresser so that I can send Santi back home and out of my face.”

“Okay, tell daddy and Alondra I said goodnight.”

“He’s not daddy. Don’t—that’s gonna go straight to his fucking head. Already too big,” Frankie chuckled and set Alondra down on her playmat. “Goodnight, mi Mariposa. I’ll see you tomorrow at 10?”

“Can’t wait, Rocketman.” With that, Frankie reluctantly hung up and tucked his phone back into his pocket, feeling a little better about his lockdown panic knowing that she was on the same page as him. It didn’t feel like they had a ticking countdown on their budding relationship anymore, both in it regardless of how often they got to see each other in person.

“I like her,” Santi spoke up as they started back on the dresser.

“Shut up.” Frankie was used to Santi’s sarcasm, not once hearing him genuinely compliment one of his past girlfriends aside from their looks.

“No, seriously. I like her. She’s funny, she seems like she’d be cool to hang out with. Nothing like the girls you usually go for.” Frankie smiled to himself, his friends approval meaning more to him than he’d ever care to admit.

“She just like…gets me? And likes talking to me? It’s wild.” Frankie focused on twisting the screw into place as he spoke to prevent a boyish grin from creeping onto his lips. “Just feels like her and I could sit and talk forever, you know? Haven’t had that kind of connection before. Like…Viviana? That was just sexual and coke-fueled, but I swore it was love. This isn’t like that, and it’s really nice.”

“Does she know about all that? The coke and shit?” Santi asked, dropping his typical playfulness to have a real conversation.

“Yeah, told her about it the first night we talked.” He set down the allen-wrench and looked at his friend with a smirk. “She was so understanding. Her parents were both addicts so, she gets it, ya know? And, anyways, it just makes me want to not slip back into all that even more. I don’t want her to have to deal with that shit from me.”

“That’s good, man. I’m glad you’re with someone who brings out good shit in you rather than…well, whatever Viviana brought out.” The boys stood up to lift the dresser upright, moving it from the living room and back into the bedroom. “Also doesn’t hurt that she’s hot.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Frankie chuckled and rolled his eyes.

Mariposa was hot. And nice to talk to. And fucking funny. She was the total package and there was no way he was letting his ghosts or a little bug going around ruin that. He wasn’t about to let something this good slip from his fingers. He’d cure Covid himself if he had to.

•••

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[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #82

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way.

This is a new chapter of The Prom Consort - you should read the earlier ones first!

I could hear the whispers rise in volume and pitch like an orchestra, the rhythmic sound of my footsteps on the senior lawn their metronome. This was not the sort of place I liked to spend time in. But hand in hand with the redhead and her girlfriend, I strolled in plain view of the dominant social class of the whole school, centered in a frame of non-monogamy.

The place reeked of sweat, nacho cheese, and ultra-processed beef chili. It was anyone’s guess which of those odors were from the cafeteria and which were from the football players. I could feel their eyes crawl up and down my body, admiring me like a piece of meat that had without explanation caught the fancy of a girl they found attractive. Did they want her or did they want me? Or were they jealous of Brie for having both of us?

I started to get an earache all of a sudden, which indicated one of two things - I was deeply uncomfortable being seen like this, on a gut, subconscious level; or there was something peanut-derived in close vicinity. Since I knew the former was true, the latter was an unknown quantity without a heuristic. I sure hoped someone around there was carrying epinephrine.

Claudia whispered into my aching ear and I shivered at the sensation. “You need to kiss one of us.”

“What?” I whispered back. “We never talked about this.”

“These people all know Brie and I are together. If you kiss one of us with the other one watching, it seals the deal. They won’t be able to stop talking about it.”

Brie rolled her eyes.

“Uh…” I trailed off. “Does it have to be with tongue?”

“No, of course not. Not yet.”

“Yet?”

“We need to leave some meat on the bone for later in the campaign.”

I thought about making a quip comparing her to Henry Kissenger, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t that kind of politician, and I was too nervous to speak beyond basic communication. Instead, all I could say was

“I’m vegetarian.”

Which wasn’t really true anyway. I’m pescatarian at best.

“Come on,” Claudia said. “Don’t think about it too much, just go for it.” She puckered her lips and closed her eyes.

I turned and kissed Brie on the cheek. The crowd murmured, louder than before. Claudia reopened her eyes to see Brie blushing and me turning green. My broccoli felt like it wanted to make a comeback.

I was fairly otherwise-engaged at that time, barely holding down my food, but I think I saw a twitch on Claudia’s face - one which she quickly hid behind a cloying girlish giggle. She hadn’t expected that. She didn’t like that.

Good.

In case you were wondering, I tested positive for COVID. My vaginoplasty is postponed, and as of writing this (Wednesday), I don't yet know how much longer I'll have to wait. I feel incredibly hopeless. Previously this post included some inspirational bullshit about perseverance or something. Doesn't matter. It feels like a lie now.