#AND NORMALLY I HAVE TO DO LIKE 4-6 LOADS OF LAUNDRY

[nightworktobegin]

🚨In home laundry machines privelage alert! 🚨In home laundry machines privilege alert! Fuck you!

[spinningwebsandtales]

The Shape of You Pt. 8

Michael Myers X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Reader is dealing with depression and anxiety, mentions of Michael’s murders, angst

Word Count: 6.1k

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7

Taglist: @msghostface @izumima @cavern-creature @101killer @scooby-the-soviet-soldier​

(A/N:) Thank you everyone for your patience! I can’t believe I’ve almost been working a year on this series! And at 55,000 words already I feel like I’ve really accomplished something! I know we’re nearing the end and I know how I want to end it, it’s getting the part I’m most excited for that’s slowing me down as I’m trying to think of things to keep it interesting and get to where I’m going! So please be patient with me and hopefully I can get the next chapter out a lot sooner as I want to try to finish this around Halloween. But I do have other Halloween things I’m wanting to write too! But I will try my best! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

It took about three days for you to recover enough to get up and go back to your normal life. Michael had been at your side every moment he could, taking care of you and making sure you had all that you needed. He even called in to your work for you, you knew you were going to get bombarded at work with questions about the man that called in for you. With your fever gone and the strength coming back slowly, you started to do more chores around the house with a lot of Michael’s help of course. You no longer wanted to dwell on depressive things or let it bring you down anymore. Michael had convinced you that you did in fact deserve to heal and for the first time you believed him. You were tired of not being happy and tired of feeling useless.

 With Michael at your side you felt like you could conquer this time of life you found yourself in. The physical touch was still a little hard as Michael did start touching more like he used to. He did it in a way that you could see it was him. At first you would stiffen slightly but instead of shutting your eyes and trying to bear it, like you used to, you kept your eyes focused on him. Reminding yourself over and over it was him and not Ian. Slowly but surely everything was returning to normal and you were proud of yourself. Michael seemed to be doing better to when he saw the progress you were making. Of course relapses came and went at times, but you both dealt with them facing the problem instead of running away. 

You begin to tell Michael how you felt and he did the same. It would take time and willpower to finally unravel all that Ian had done to you. So to counteract any doubts or moments you both started to do things together that normal couples would do. Michael would be by your side through laundry, cleaning, and cooking. Whatever you were doing he was right there with you. If you were putting a load of laundry in the washer he would be folding the ones that were in the dryer. If you were cleaning the living room he was right there helping. But the favorite for you both was cooking together. Always handy with the knife Michael would cut up all the vegetables while you prepared other ingredients or stirred whatever meal was cooking in a pot or pan on the stove. You always hummed while you worked as the radio played in the background, Michael found that endearing and soothing and more times than not Michael would hum along right beside you.

 His stifled personality continued to grow daily as you both worked through things that had hurt you in life. Whenever you placed the food in the oven to bake and the radio was playing the right song you wound up dragging Michael in the middle of the kitchen floor for an impromptu dance session. Before too long the large man was tapping his foot and twirling you around with a big grin on his face. You laughed and carried on until the timer on the counter began to ring. You only abandoned the dance to remove your meal from the oven. Setting the hot pan on the stove you turned only to see a pouting Michael. Every day that passed brought more and more of Michael’s personality forward. What had been stifled for so long was beginning to bloom and you were so glad that you were the one who was getting to witness the transformation and that you were a big part of it.

After eating you both sprawled out on the couch with the TV on only as background noise. Michael was stroking your hair while he focused on the show that was quickly becoming lost to you. You lost yourself in his touch, letting Michael be the only one that you could focus on. He mindlessly trailed a scarred finger down your cheek, before his thumb brushed against your plush bottom lip. You sucked in a breath as the gentle touch sent a jolt through you. Still unaware of the effect he was having on you. His blank expression was fascinating but hard to concentrate on as he started stroking your jaw line. Tired of him not realizing what he was doing to you, you grasped his wrist bringing his hand back to your face. Michael stiffened when you brought the pad of his thumb to your lips and kissed it. His one eye quickly darted from the TV screen as you winked up at him and nibbled at the skin. You treated each digit the same making sure one did not lack the attention it deserved. He sucked in a breath and his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

 The heat in your eyes had him seeing stars before he finally forgot the TV he had been watching moments ago. Wordlessly he stood, almost knocking you from the cushions before he scooped you up. You laughed in delight the warmth of his skin under his thin sleeping shirt seeped through to your very bones. You held on tightly as he quickly maneuvered you both but knocking things from the side tables in the living room due to his haste. He glanced downward before booting them away with his foot so he wouldn’t trip and drop you. He raced you both to your room where you lavished each other in kisses and heated touches, until you both fell asleep holding each other close in the soft bed.

Michael’s quiet snores woke you up before your alarm clock did. His hot chest pressed up against your back, acted like a natural heater and you found yourself sinking deeper into his warmth. The thought of leaving his warmth and the comfort of bed had you hesitating to get up. He mumbled something you couldn’t understand but he quieted immediately, falling back into a deep slumber. The more you had to leave him to go to work the harder it became every time. Taking in the moment you gave yourself a little longer before trying to remove yourself from Michael’s tight grip. You didn’t want the alarm clock waking him up, though it would take a miracle for him to stay asleep when you left the bed. He had a knack for knowing when you were gone and he would come searching for you every time. It was endearing but annoying when you wanted to let him sleep in. So gently and carefully you removed yourself and shut off the alarm clock.

 Michael mumbled again and rolled over causing you to stand still. He nuzzled deeper into the pillow and fell back to sleep. You sighed in relief, smiling at the chance to see him at his most vulnerable. These were the moments you loved the most as you were the only one who ever got to see them. It was important to you to see that he could be this comfortable and to be himself. Despite his problems and misgivings a person needed the chance to grow and to realize that they are loved no matter what. With as much grace as you could muster, you kissed his forehead before tiptoeing away, leaving him to rest while you got started getting ready to leave once again for work. You were dreading the moment that you walked through those office doors but bills must be paid and you could expect Michael to be at the door as soon as you arrived back home. You grinned as you started water running into the tub. Getting up earlier had it’s merits as you had time to take a nice hot bath to soak your weary muscles and wake your body up for the day. After being sick you could use the comfort hot water could bring.

 You splurged a little and added a little bit of the expensive bubble bath soap you had bought on a splurge trip awhile ago at the local cosmetic shop. The smell filling the bathroom as the tub continued to fill. Pinning up your hair you slipped into the hot water, letting all the tension melt and float away on the pearly bubbles. You hummed gently, trying to be quiet so Michael could keep sleeping. He had lost sleep when you had gotten sick as he took care of you 24/7 until you were back on your feet. Your eyes closed and ears plugged with water, you jolted at the sudden touch to your brow. Michael smiled before touching your wet cheek. You set up bubbles slithering down your chest.

“Morning,” you said as he eased himself down to the cold tile floor. He put one hand in the water searching out for yours in the murky water.

“Good morning,” was his reply as he found the object of his desire. He gripped your hand tightly before bringing it up to his mouth where he left soft kisses across the wet skin.

“I didn’t want to wake you up,” you hummed.

“Can’t sleep without you.”

Your heart began to pound with the look that he gave you as it pierced straight through your body. How he could have such power over you was mind boggling but you liked to think you had the same power over him as well. The intensity of his chocolate brown eye had you shivering despite the warm water. While you wanted him to sleep, you couldn’t help but be glad that he was awake sitting close to you while you prepared to leave for the work day. It was these moments that you were most grateful for. The normalcy these moments brought, along with the desire to keep having these moments remained strong. You lost track of time until your second alarm went off telling you that your time to finish getting ready was getting dangerously close. With one last peck to his nose you pulled the plug to the tub. Wrapping yourself in a warm towel you shooed Michael from the bathroom so you could focus on getting ready.

With your touch and smell still lingering in his system Michael reluctantly left you alone. The loneliness that came with your absence almost strangled him every day as he would count down every second until you walked back through that door to him. He knew this was a part of your life that you couldn’t change and a large part of him wished that he could have that sense of normalcy that you had. He knew where that had been taken from his life and it was his own fault. He could admit that much and he was just thankful that someone out there had realized that all he wanted was some form of understanding. While you were quickly realizing that it wasn’t completely Michael’s fault as he had just been a child when he did the horrible deed he had done, he still did it. Guilt squeezed his chest as he heard you singing in the bathroom, finishing your normal work routine. The urge to protect you from the horrible things that he had done and what the cruel world could achieve in taking from you, only grew stronger in these moments of thought. He clenched his fists, teeth grinding he marched to the kitchen. If he couldn’t go out to help earn a living like you, the least he could do was make your home life a little easier. That’s why he was so interested in everything you do.

 He didn’t get to grow up in a household where the parents love you unconditionally, didn’t teach him the basics of life. For the majority of his life; his food was prepared for him, his room was barely fit for a human being, and the regular decent things people got to experience was stolen from him. All because of one decision and one night so long ago. His world turned upside down. But you stepped in, teaching him what he wanted and bringing the part that he never got to have in. So he vowed to never have such things taken from you as he made you a quick breakfast and packed your lunch. When you came down the stairs, refreshed and dressed for work he watched you carefully. Taking in all the little details that made you, you. He couldn’t help but feel that these little moments, these days were dwindling down. He couldn’t hide forever and he couldn’t ask you to work yourself to death for both of you. Michael loved you too much to be that much of a burden to you.

 As a man he wanted to provide, to help you in life. Not hide out until the end of his days. One thing that did remain in Michael was his ability to hide his emotions. He didn’t want you worrying about him. You did that enough without knowing the turmoil that raged inside him. As he held out your lunch bag and breakfast, you smiled happy that you had someone that truly cared about you. Besides your parents, Michael had really taken an interest in making sure you had everything you needed, that your mornings didn’t have any unnecessary steps for you to do. He knew everything you liked and disliked, he even knew how you liked your coffee. You kissed his cheek promising to be back as soon as your day was over. He grabbed you before you could turn away, embracing you warmly before kissing you deeply. He wished to just hold you there and keep you forever, to keep you safe from the cruelness that seemed to trail you. But eventually you squirmed away, thinking he was just playing with you. You gave him one last goodbye and he waved slowly from the kitchen doorway. When the front door shut Michael’s shoulders sagged. It was going to be another long day with his thoughts.

You thought you had mentally prepared yourself for walking through those doors to the office, until the bombardment began as soon as you walked in. Your head began to spin as everyone slammed you with questions and before you could answer even one of them, someone else was asking a different question. You felt like you were on a roller coaster that was out of control and with no emergency brake. Your saving grace was Julie as she pushed her way through the crowd, she glared at your co-workers as she grabbed your arm and parted the people out of your way. She rushed you both into your office where she slammed the door closed. You panted from the exertion, both physically and mentally. While you knew Julie more than just wanted answers, she knew to give you time. That you would eventually open up, but not everyone was as considerate as she was. While everyone had your best interests in mind, due to what you had gone through, sometimes they forgot that in the pursuit of their own wants. Julie gave you a few moments to catch your breath before she spoke.

“If you need me let me know,” she said firmly. “But don’t think this gives you a pass on telling me why your secret boyfriend sounds so dang hot and you’re hiding him from us.”

“I have my reasons,” you coughed in your hand, trying and failing to hide your grin.

“Sure,” she scoffed opening the door and pointing her finger at you before leaving. Today was going to be interesting if not anything else. Sitting before the paperwork that had waited on you, you pressed your forehead into the wood. Interesting and long was what you decided, cause you were already ready to go home. Michael seemed so far away while you were here but you sucked in a deep breath and got to work.

Michael had stood there for awhile, just staring at the door that you had walked through. The loneliness crushed him every time you left, but it was becoming worse now  after that taste of freedom he had had. It was for your sake, but now the outside world intoxicated him in a way that he had never felt before. Being locked away for so long had stripped him of anything normal, he didn’t know how regular people acted. Now he wanted more, even though he knew he shouldn’t. You would be heart broken if he was taken away, just because he couldn’t ignore the siren call of the outside. Michael pulled his gaze away from the door, he had to occupy himself before he heeded the call and opened that door and stepped outside.

 It was hard to occupy himself every day as he wanted to spend the majority of the time with you. While the outside had became a siren towards him, you were his very being. Now that he had you he couldn’t get enough of the taste. There was so much he wanted to do with you, more than you both already done. You had turned into his everything and he didn’t know if you realized it. Even if you had never returned his affection, it was enough just to be here with you. Your happiness had become his very goal in life and while he wanted to stray outside more than anything he couldn’t strip your happiness away. That’s why he ignored his want, that’s why he distracted himself. He couldn’t bring himself to dwell on it any longer, but he couldn’t keep his wants hidden from you. You both had decided to tell each other everything. Though he knew already what you would tell him, he couldn’t keep it secret from you. It wouldn’t be fair. Turning from the door, ignoring the call to go out, he found something to occupy his time until you were able to come home.

You came home physically and mentally drained. The day had been too busy for Julie to corner you for details, you barely got a lunch break and all that included was a breather and a granola bar. Letting your bag and keys fall to the floor, you kicked off your heels and started searching for Michael.

“I’m home,” you called. Michael left your spare room, a streak of paint on his cheek. You giggled, wiping the paint away with your thumb before embracing him in a hug. All the tension you had left on your shoulders from work immediately melted away at the touch of his hands.

“I missed you,” you hummed. He answered back with a tighter squeeze. He always missed you, he didn’t have to tell you that every day for you to know it either. “What you working on in there?”

“Just practicing with some paint but I think we need to talk,” Michael spoke after letting you have a few moments of relaxation. You stiffened, fears suddenly plaguing your mind as the larger man lead you to the couch. He switched on a lamp illuminating the room. Your eyes glimmered with tears but he shook his head. He didn’t want to make you nervous but he couldn’t let you stay in the dark. He knew that his situation was different that most men but he still deserved a say in things. You needed to know and he needed you to know.

“I want to go outside.” He couldn’t bring himself to beat around the bush. Blunt speaking and getting right to the point always seemed the better option to him. His statement really didn’t shock you though, you knew it had to come around eventually. You had noticed a difference in Michael recently after you had gotten sick and he had taken it upon himself to go get the supplies to help you get better. He looked at the windows more and the door held his gaze too as if he longed for the freedom that outside brought. You never thought Michael as a less than highly intelligent individual. Stupid wasn’t what he was when he longed for the outside world. He was different now than from before when you first met him, he wanted to see what normal things life could bring. But he couldn’t risk letting himself be found by the authorities, while he longed for the outside the world, it didn’t long for him. He knew that. You never doubted for one moment he could reintegrate back into the real world, make a good name for himself now that he was realizing how much he had changed and learned. But people had a hard time looking pass someone’s past. You feared that Michael had too much damage and horrors linked with his name that could never be erased.

 Haddonfield would never welcome a reformed Michael Myers back into their midst, no matter how many times he proved himself. And if they knew you were as close to him as you were they would string you up right beside him. It didn’t matter you never took any lives, just being associated with him was enough for them to burn you at the stake alone with Michael. You took his scarred hands with yours giving them a squeeze.

“Michael,” you started to speak.

“I want to take you out to dinner,” he blurted suddenly, interrupting you. “I want to go to the movies with you. I want a job. I want a family.” He sucked in a breath his eyes boring into your being. “I want to be with you.”

You choked back a sob at the sudden confession he had been holding inside for who knows how long, ”But Michael. They won’t accept you and I can’t watch them drag you away. They may lock me up right beside you.”

He wiped your tears knowing that talking about this was bringing you pain, but he couldn’t take the secrecy it was eating him up inside. This had to happen, there was no getting around it. “I would never let them take you away. I will not be your downfall, but I want to provide for you like a normal man can.”

“You are,” you argued.

“I can’t buy you things you need. I can’t take you out to eat or go shopping. I have to watch you leave everyday and it’s getting harder.”

You swallowed, trying to rid yourself of the lump in your throat. “I’d say that I would never leave again. But we like to eat and watch TV.”

Michael chuckled kissing you softly. You racked your brain trying to think of something that could appease you both. The movies were dark enough but you still had to make your way from the front. Dinner was out of the question as you knew too many people and too many people recognized Michael Myers. The towns very own devil. Michael watched you in silence, your mind rushing to and fro. He had come to realize those moments when you were in deep thought, when suddenly you rose from the couch abruptly causing him to jump a little at the movement.

“Who says we have to go out to eat for a date,” you marched to the kitchen. “Stay right there until I call for you Michael.”

Michael obeyed, knowing better than to disobey when you were a woman on an a mission. He grabbed the remove to the TV and began flipping through channels as he listened to you do whatever you had planned in the kitchen.

After waiting for an hour, he wound up falling asleep on the couch while a comedy played on TV that quickly lost his attention. You strolled back into the living room, shaking Michael awake. He woke, but had to blink twice at the sight before him. You stood before him with a dirty apron and a fake mustache placed under your delicate nose.

“Sir if you will please follow me,” you deepened your voice and waved your stained hand to the kitchen door. Wordlessly Michael followed, his amusement evident on his handsome face. He stepped into a movie-esque scene in the dining room. A bright white table cloth placed upon the table and a candle placed delicately in the middle. The lights were off and all the light in the kitchen was from the single candle on the table. You lead him forward towards the table and he took a seat at your prompting. He could tell you had taken a few moments to go ahead and fix your hair in a style he had yet to see on you before.

“Your date said she was running a tad late,” you gave a little bow. “Please if you need anything while you wait don’t hesitate to ask.”

Peeling the mustache from your face and sticking it onto Michael’s brow you flung the apron on the couch as you raced by before heading down the hall, the echoes of his laughter following you. This had to be as perfect and authentic as you could make it. Luckily for you, you still had a nice dress you had bought several years ago for the company Christmas party you ever attended. You hadn’t worn it since that first year when Ian had gotten so drunk he was making out with everything female shaped and his pursuit of you began. Now you either didn’t show up or you wore something comfortable. Michael had yet to see you wear such attire, though he had seen you unclothed, the thought making you blush bright red. Shimmying from your food stained work clothes you pulled the dress up and placed your arms through the short sleeves. It was a little tighter than you remembered but it still fit. That’s all that mattered. You started to zip up the back, when you suddenly remembered how difficult the dress was to zip all the way up. The first and last time you wore the thing, you had put on a sweater until you made it to the office and Julie helped you zip it the rest of the way. But now you were stuck with no friend around, you wanted to surprise Michael but that was no longer an option.

“Michael,” you called down the hall, “can you come help me.”

Worry tugged at him, when he heard your tone of voice. He was out of his chair and in the bedroom immediately. He calmed down once he saw the sheepish look on your face. He stepped back, stunned by the scene before him. This was what he always imagined, but it was better than anything he had dreamed about. “I can’t get the stupid zipper up all the way,” you turned around pointing the the culprit only halfway up your back. “Can you help me?”

He nodded silently, taking careful steps forward he swallowed nervously. He had touched you, loved you in all different ways. But at this very moment, everything felt different. You stood there patiently, shivering at the gentle touch of his hand. Michael could smell the perfume you had put on, it was driving him crazy. The touch of your warm skin and the cool silk of the dress was plunging him deeper down into a place he had yet to explore before. You could hear the zipper being pulled, but not in the direction you wanted.

“You’re suppose to go up not down,” you swallowed thickly trying to joke to ease the tension you were feeling. You were afraid that your body was going to rat you out on how much you rather stay here in this room with Michael than go back to eat the meal you prepared.

Michael remained silent, pushing the fabric aside to where he could reach your neck and bare shoulder. He mindlessly followed what his heart and body wanted, letting his conscious take a back seat for once since he met you. You jolted at the first touch of his lips. As he kissed the crook of your neck, before he began to nibble his way to your ear. His large fingers pulling the delicate pins from your hair, until it fell down in a soft sheet that smelled of your floral shampoo. He brushed it aside, keeping his path clear as he continued to kiss and lick his way to your other shoulder. You trembled, your hands clenched in fists as you tried to remain still. Your world was beginning to revolve around him and you never wanted him to leave. Moments like these, you could no longer live without them. You longed for them and craved them when the two of you were alone.

“We’re supposed to eat before dessert,” you teased again. Your nervousness keeping you from shutting your mouth. Trying to ease the tension between you two. The hunger in Michael’s eyes inflaming your skin. You could feel the heat of his touch sear every nerve in your body. He reached your cheek, kissing you once, twice, before zipping your dress up and scooping you into his arms. The cool silk a sudden contrast to his blazing body. He wanted you now, but he would wait. You had to be hungry after a long day of work and he wasn’t going to deny you a meal for his more animalistic needs.

Michael admitted to himself quickly that this was the moments he longed for most. You had worked hard to make sure this candlelight dinner was everything he could dream of. Even down to that goofy waiter persona you created. After eating a quick dinner of spaghetti and followed by brownies covered in ice cream, Michael replaced the fake mustache on your lip and kissed you deeply. “You want me to grow a mustache now,” you laughed peeling it back off and throwing it in the trash.

“I would love you if you did grow one,” he replied taking the dishes to the sink. Still wearing your dress and him in his comfortable clothes you both washed dishes together. It quickly turned into a suds battle that left you both drenched. You went to go change into something dry and comfortable while Michael made popcorn. Once you came back and relieved him of popcorn duty Michael also went to change out of his wet clothes. It wasn’t long and you both were snuggled on the couch watching a movie together, the conversation from earlier in the back of your minds. Michael watched the TV while you remained deep in thought. It was unfair of you to ask him to remain hidden forever, while you had the freedom to go whenever you wanted. He wasn’t a dog, you couldn’t force him to stay secluded forever if he wanted to try something new. He’s a grown man and who were you to keep him from deciding for himself? Despite your heart breaking, you felt like he deserved the choice whether he wanted to leave or not. If you selfishly kept him from doing what he needed, you felt like that would make you no better than the doctors who kept him from the cure he so desperately needed. You couldn’t make him stay if he was ready to move on. But you would wait and let you both have this moment together, like everything about your relationship was normal. Once the popcorn was gone from the bowls and the credits began to scroll across the screen. Michael helped you clean up the mess in the living room before following you up the stairs.

He quickly shucked his shirt holding it out towards you. You took it gladly, slipping the warm material over your head before getting under the covers. Michal turned out the light once you were comfortable before making his way to his side of the bed. Getting comfortable his arm slipping around your waist, he pulled you into his side. His warm breath stirring the hair on the back of your neck.

“Michael,” you sighed, your body starting to shake as you were terrified of the thing you were about to ask.

“Mmm,” he hummed sleepily.

“Do you want to leave?”

Michael stiffened his eyes darting open in shock. His grip on you tightened while you continued to shiver violently.

“I can’t ask you to stay and be unhappy,” you choked back a sob. “It would be selfish of me and I love you too much to hold you back. I know your life hasn’t been the best and you deserve a new beginning, even if it has to be without me. Please answer truthfully I don’t want to hold you back from a life you want to shoot for.”

Michael tightened his grip, placing his forehead in your hair. He knew where this was coming from, the conversation from before had brought doubts to your mind. They would fester and you knew it, that’s why you were asking. You were giving him an out. One he knew he didn’t earn, nor deserve. You were the kindest person he had ever met and to not have you in his life anymore felt like torture. Starting anew had him shaking at the thought of no longer being afraid of being placed back into a cell that would drive him further into madness. But that would be a life without you and he was wondering if that would be a life at all.

“Michael?”

“Let’s leave together.” His voice was so quiet you had to strain to hear him. Your heart pounded against your chest and your breath began to quicken. For some reason your mind hadn’t thought of you both leaving. Haddonfield was all you had ever known. Your job was here, your home was here, and your parents were here. You never gave yourself the thought about uprooting your life of complacency, but for and with Michael you felt like you could. You immediately went to daydreaming about all the possibilities of a normal life with Michael. Your ring finger suddenly began to feel heavy as you rubbed your digit and imagined patters of little feet running through a larger home. Michael would be the man he craved to be, not what was shoved upon him here in Haddonfield.

“Would you have me Michael?”

He flipped you to your back, climbing on top of you where he could see you clearly. The moonlight coming through the curtains, causing his icy blue eye to glow in an ethereal light that had you sucking in a breath. He brushed the hair from your face, the glimmer of tears in your eyes causing his heart to break into little pieces. He had caused this, making you question what he actually felt for you.

  “I would have you and no one else,” he answered before kissing you. He quickly deepened the kiss, feeling your desperation. The need to know without a doubt that he was answering truthfully. He wouldn’t leave you behind. He couldn’t ever leave knowing that he had abandoned you to a fate worse than death. A pariah of Haddonfield just like him while he escaped it all. He wouldn’t ever do that to you, he loved you too much. You had to come with him. You both would start anew, it felt like fate as he continued to kiss you. Your muffled sobs swallowed by his mouth as he tried to comfort you. The tears wouldn’t stop as you felt a mixture of fear, comfort, and sorrow. Michael released you, allowing you both to regain your breath.

  “We don’t have to make a decision right now,” he said rolling back to his side and pulling you into him once more. He stroked your hair in comfort, the silken strands catching on his scars and callouses.

“I think I already know the answer,” you replied placing your hand on his bare chest and curling your fingers in the coarse hair there. “But I don’t want to say anything yet. It’s a big decision.”

Michael nodded, “Sleep on it. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise,” you sighed as the emotions you had felt today wore you out that you began to drift away into slumber.

“Promise,” he kissed you again, now stroking your cheek. With that you drifted off, but Michael no longer felt tired. He was more than happy to watch you sleep the night away. Something new was brewing in the air, but it had a tang of bitterness. He couldn’t help but feel that something horrible was on the horizon for both of you and that it wouldn’t matter what you both decided. Something was going to happen and soon. Michael vowed to protect you no matter what. He held you tightly, listening to your soft breaths before he was finally lulled to sleep by your calming presence.

[https-chaos]

Do you have a screenprinted shirt/hoodie that's stained? A pair of jeans that you hate the color of? Do you really want that cool merch hoodie but it's only sold in an ugly ass color? Do you want to dye something but not mess up the decal?

You need: fiber reactive dye! This is my how-to; it's enough stuff for a hoodie, a couple t-shirts, and a pair of jeans. About 5lb of cloth when it's dry.

Here's how this hoodie was sold and how it turned out. I bought it before he had the black one in the shop, back when the only color options were pink and blue.

Note: these instructions are for a front-loading washing machine and natural plant fabrics like cotton. Other methods are listed here:

Supplies:

The dye (1 8-ounce jar) https://a.co/d/aR1U5tP

The activator (soda ash, get 2 1-lb bags) https://a.co/d/9di48gH

3 26-ounce containers of non-iodized salt https://www.walmart.com/ip/10448311

A 5-gallon bucket https://a.co/d/12sZoPR

Something to boil 1gal of water in (I did it in 2 batches with my kettle)

Something to stir with (I used a big serving spoon, this dye will NOT stain anything but fabric)

A washing machine, regular laundry stuff

Vinegar

How I did it:

1. Wash the clothes you want to dye normally, but don't add fabric softener.

2. While the load is finishing, put all 3 things of salt, 3 cups (700ish ml) of soda ash, and half a cup (115ish ml) of dye, in the bucket.

3. Boil 1 gallon (4ish liters) of water and pour it in the bucket (I did this by boiling 2L at a time in my kettle)

4. Stir stir stir! Dissolve it as well as you possibly can.

5. When the load is done, take the clothes out.

6. Pour the whole bucket of dye mix straight into the washing machine. I was able to tip the whole bucket into my machine, but do be careful and think ahead on how you're going do this part.

7. Put the wet clothes back in the machine. Don't add anything else like soap.

8. Start the machine, using the hottest and longest cycle possible (on my machine this is the 'whites' setting).

9. Once the cycle is finished, add your regular laundry stuff to the machine (soap, fabric softener), and fill the bleach compartment with vinegar.

10. Run the machine again on the hottest and longest cycle.

11. Tumble or hang dry. Enjoy!

[whentherewerebicycles]

oof friends I am starting to feel pretty bad in my body. just bad bad muscle & joint aches and the occasional GI issues along with a general feeling of heaviness/discomfort. still sleeping ok (if you count waking up between every damn sleep cycle to pee) but it’s getting harder to get comfortable. and bleh I hate waking up to rain and darkness!!! but we are inching closer to summer I know it I know it. also baby will now kick my hand if I touch my stomach and talk to him :)

I have to go into campus today (BOO) but it’s fine. here is the day:

6-8 coffee, lounge, work emails, reschedule therapy appt (I think I’ll go once more? but not this week), make breakfast

8:20-9 shower/get ready, read student draft

9-10 make availability poll + work on hiring committee rubric

10-11 tutoring

11-11:40 CJ mtg

commute to campus

12:30-1 JS class visit

1-3 finish hiring committee work

3-4 career services mtg

4 JS class visit

commute home

walk dogs if it isn’t raining

do a couple loads of laundry (towels, sheets, comforter, blankets, pillows)

wet/dry vacuum then normal vacuum

empty dishwasher

work on fic draft (I was too sleepy last night and was watching the game but I’d like to put in some time tonight)

zzz by 9 I hope

[commonwealthoccurences]

Back to Eden - ch8

Preparing for the trip to Diamond City was quiet chaos. Sturges and Preston flit around Sole. They were used to Sturges being the calmer, more laidback one, but he apparently had his own concerns. When Sole asked if he wanted to discuss them, he merely shrugged and said, “Not my job to hold you back here. You’ve gotta figure it out at some point, and as much as I’d like to hover, Preston’s got that covered. Just be careful out there.”

Like overprotective older brothers, they shoved supplies into a pack until it looked like it was going to burst, then lightened the load out of concern for Sole having to carry the weight, then packed it again. Sole didn’t complain. The fussing, the concern covered by the discussing of logistics, the endless questions and “remember, if…”s reminded them of another time. In another life, they were pre-war citizens worried for their younger sibling as they packed for a big life change.

As they turned the straps of their pack over in their hand, a mindless fidget, they noticed Sturges had put extra padding on one side where the strap would sit just below their collarbone. He noticed them looking and when he caught their eye, he glanced at their shoulder– their injury had been acting up but they thought they’d been rubbing at it when no one was looking –and smiled. He didn’t speak a word, but plenty was said.

“I don’t like it.” Preston stood to the side, looking lost.

“I know you don’t like it, Preston.” Sole said in a soothing tone.

“Yeah. You’ve said about a thousand times.” Sturges piped up, though the comment was playful.

There was a beat of silence as Sole arranged the pistol Sturges had provided in their belt. They had given them new clothes so Sole wasn’t wandering the wasteland in a vault suit and it had triggered an abrupt realization in them of how much they missed normal clothing– and most of all, plenty of pockets.

“I just…” Preston started.

“Don’t like it?” Sturges and Sole finished together.

“Yeah.”

Sole knew there was nothing they could say that would ease his worries. Instead, they tried their best to give a reassuring smile. What they hadn’t told Sturges and Preston was that they were also nervous. While they had full confidence that they would survive the trip to Diamond City and back, they were terrified to see what had become of Boston– especially what had happened to its creatures.

Despite Preston and Curie doing a thorough job of updating Sole on everything that was now common in the wasteland, they knew no words could prepare them for seeing everything for the first time. After witnessing what had happened to their neighborhood, they knew there was worse out there. 

Sturges and Preston insisted on walking Sole to the bridge to Sanctuary, and in return, Sole insisted that they wouldn’t follow them any further. This was their test to see if they would survive in the modern world. They wouldn’t be able to depend on the pair forever.

It was still early morning when Sole departed, somewhere between the hours of 4 A.M. and 6 A.M. to their best guess. The wood planks that formed the bridge creaked as they stepped across carefully. While it would align with their luck so far, they definitely did not want to start out their journey by immediately falling into the river below right in front of Sturges and Preston. Luckily, after hopping the gap in planking, they made it to the other side safely. They didn’t look back as they waved to the pair behind them and continued on.

Three officers and Valentine himself escorted Sole back to their home for them to pack up their life into one duffle bag. They made it a speedy affair by digging through their most recent clean laundry and shoving it in the bag along with the main storage component to their personal terminal. Valentine and Sole had agreed that it was likely that Grayson would attempt to break in if he went long enough without seeing Sole at their residence, and there was too much information stored on their terminal that they simply couldn’t afford him access to.

Sole ducked into the passenger seat of Valentine’s car, settling their duffle bag at their feet. Before Valentine could move to get into the driver’s seat, though, he was stopped by another one of the officers. Sole could tell that they were discussing something via the low murmuring sounds that made it into the car, but they were unable to make out the specific sounds and unfortunately the windows were shut tight. The conversation lasted about a minute or so before the officer shook his head and walked away and Valentine finally opened his door and dropped into his seat. “What was that all about?” Sole asked.

Valentine shoved his key into the ignition and turned it. Sole sat back comfortably as the engine began to purr and kept their eyes on Valentine, inquisitive. “Don’t worry about it. What do you want for dinner?” He asked.

Much more interested in their rumbling stomach, Sole perked up. However, they didn’t miss the chance to tease him. “Detective Valentine. Are you offering to buy me dinner?” They gasped.

Valentine glanced at them in alarm, his hands firmly on the steering wheel as he struggled to keep his eye on the road and keep up with Sole’s antics. “Wh- uh, no- yes, I am, but not- Jesus Christ.”

Sole’s head hit the headrest as they threw their head back and laughed, their shoulders shaking. “Okay, take a deep breath. I promise I’m just teasing, Nick. I would never accuse you of such a thing.”

Valentine continued to sputter, but no words escaped and he fell silent. His knuckles were nearly white from how tense he was in gripping the steering wheel before he reached over and switched on the radio to fill the silence. Sole’s amusement blocked out any potential awkwardness and they began to lounge, something that Valentine had started letting them get away with. There was a bit of a distance between their house and his, and Sole was fully ready to take advantage of the seats for one of their many car-ride naps. They yawned. “If you’re serious about dinner, I don’t mind if you pick. You always let me pick, you should get whatever you feel like.”

Valentine glanced at them and let his tension melt away. “Alright, will do. I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

There was something much more eerie about being in the post-war world without anyone else around. Sole had taken for granted just how much Preston and the rest of the settlers always being around put them at ease. Their footsteps were the only sounds around other than the passing summer winds and the bushes they rustled. Preston had recommended they check out the Red Rocket stop before continuing through Concord, just in case there were any supplies the group had missed the last time they’d passed through.

Apparently Concord had been entirely picked through, so there wasn’t too much worry about danger there unless raiders had set up shop. Luckily, Sole knew that the swift and silent route was best and had planned to stick to the outskirts on high alert. First, though, Red Rocket.

They remembered the old gas station from before the war; oftentimes they would stop there on the way home just to grab something quick to eat lest they forget while processing notes or some other business. During the week before the bombs dropped, Sole hadn’t stopped there at all. They didn’t even leave their house. 

Sole stopped in the middle of the cracked and crumbling road to simply stare at the old station, their head tilted slightly. It was somewhat less damaged than they’d expected. For some reason, when they’d pictured it before they left Sanctuary, they imagined the roof caved in. Something crumbled, like a poorly constructed gingerbread house. They stepped forward to get a good look inside before they entered, examining the damaged walls, the stools that had been knocked sideways, and the seemingly untouched display shelf. As they rocked back on their heels to open the door, their boots crunched in shattered glass.

Sole froze when they heard shuffling coming from behind the counter. Internally, they flicked through the rolodex of creatures they’d been told about. Maybe it was a ghoul; Preston had said they spent much time laying in various abandoned locations if they weren’t wandering aimlessly. Or maybe it was a survivor, a raider, who’d set up shop for the night on the way to Sanctuary. Was this as far as they would get?

They braced themself as the shuffling grew a bit louder, but no one emerged from behind the desk. Something caught the corner of their vision. Sole looked down at the base of the desk.

A furry little face peered out from behind the metal, big brown eyes creased with worry. Sole inhaled deeply and let out a quiet, “Ohhhmygod!”

The dog crept forward, tail between his legs as he stayed low to the ground, trying to appear as non threatening as possible. Sole reached for the handle to slide the door open slowly and obviously, not wanting to scare him off. They eased the door open with a haunting screeeeech that made both them and the dog recoil. “Sorry.” They whispered, putting one foot in the door before lowering themself to a crouch.

The dog stopped. They stopped. Sole made quiet kissing sounds, rubbing their fingertips together. “C’mere buddy, it’s alright. I know, it’s scary out here, huh? You in this big world by yourself, you poor thing?” They spoke quietly, soothingly, until the dog crept forward again.

With quiet whimpers, the dog pressed his muzzle into Sole’s gloved hand and slowly, his tail crept out from between his legs to begin thumping against the floor. He licked at their palms. Sole smoothed their hand over his forehead, using the pads of their thumbs to try and rub out that worried expression on his face. “You’re alright now, bud. You wanna come with me? Huh? You wanna go on a little adventure?”

The dog let out an abrupt yelp and jumped at Sole, covering their face in eager licks, his tail now going a mile a minute. With the unexpected lunge, Sole tumbled backwards onto the ground and laughed as the dog jumped backwards into a bow, his tail wagging playfully as watched them, eager. “Alright, alright. We’ll stick together, then, buddy.” They conceded, dusting themself off as they got to their feet again.

A quick sweep of the Red Rocket left them unimpressed. There was nothing they could use immediately, and while Sturges might be able to scavenge little bits and pieces from the things that were left laying around, they had little hope for anything being extraordinarily useful. So, they continued on, the dog following close behind.

Sole startled awake when a hand landed on their shoulder, scrambling back away from the passenger side door. With the door ajar, Valentine was leaning in, one hand on their shoulder and the other on the buckle for their seatbelt. The rush of adrenaline that had properly awoken them like a rushing tide receded nearly instantly. They were fine. It was just Nick. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” 

His voice matched the setting twilight, backed up by a chorus of crickets and the cool evening air that brushed across their cheeks as it blew past Valentine and into the car. “S’alright.” Their words slurred slightly from their grogginess. 

Valentine clicked their buckle to undo their seatbelt and untangled them from it carefully. Sole began easing their sluggish form out of the seat, Nick’s hand on their back to make sure they were awake enough to not stumble. When they stepped out, their eyes fell on the exterior of his house. It was… not what they were expecting even though they weren’t sure what they were expecting.

The lawn and flowerbeds were meticulously groomed, that much added up, but they were humble in expanse. The walkway to the front door was paved with stones, the porch equipped with a porch swing. Nothing about it was particularly grand, but it was cozy. They took their time walking up the path, eyes roaming lazily over the view in front of them. Valentine was close behind, his hand no longer on their back, but hovering just in case they stumbled on the pathway. 

The porch steps creaked as they stepped up, tucking their coat around them tighter. Bugs danced around the glowing porch lights, the stars glimmering above. They turned back to Valentine and realized he was carrying a bag of food. “What’d we get?” They asked.

“Chinese takeout.”

Sole smiled. “We should eat out here.”

“What?”

“How often do you use that porch swing?”

“Uhh…” Valentine thought for a moment, but could scrounge up no answer.

“Exactly. I’m not letting you let a damn good porch swing rot while you’re busy being a hotshot detective.”

Valentine followed them up the steps and watched as they arranged themself carefully on the swing. There had been something growing in the pit of his stomach each hour that ticked by after he’d realized Grayson was a genuine threat to Sole. He’d seen too many bright lights get put out by the business he was in; cops and those caught in the crossfire alike. As they arranged themself and looked up at him expectantly, he spoke up, “We’re exposed out here.”

“Half an hour, Nick. And then I’ll be as discreet and tucked away as you’d like.”

They ended up sitting on the porch for more than two hours. At first, they ate in silence, as they often did. It seemed they spent so much time talking about cases that they both needed a break whenever they were eating. When the takeout cartons were pushed to the side in a neat pile and Sole had stretched out to take up the space Nick had left, they began talking.

The conversation rambled. The pair had never really done personal conversation before. Everything they talked about was work and the little bits of their personal lives they divulged were only where it was relevant; where they had gathered knowledge, why they may have shown up late, the reason they had to step out of the room for a phone call. Now, with the late hour and the sleepy evening air and the dancing constellations above, they spoke about themselves as people, not as detectives.

Somewhere along the line, Nick commented, “Your parents must be proud.”

Sole laughed and adjusted the pillow behind their head. “Oh, Nicky. My parents and I hardly talk. I think being proud is a bit of a stretch.”

“What?”

“Ugh,” Sole sat up better so they could speak to him face to face instead of staring up at the roof above them. “They really don’t approve of the whole independent investigator journalist thing. They think I undermine the hard work of the police and I’m going to get myself killed one day.”

They knew the “undermining police work” bit would cause a bit of a struggle in Valentine, and they were right. Sole wasn’t so naive to think that because they were partners now, Valentine had changed his mind about their work and the way it clashed with the police. This didn’t mean they were ashamed of their work, though. They’d fought hard to hold onto their pride in independent investigating despite the negativity of being surrounded by the BPD constantly. Nick’s face flitted through many different expressions before it settled on something they couldn’t define. “Well… I’m proud of you. And your work.”

And Sole looked at him and could tell he was being genuine. With a soft smile, they nudged his thigh with their foot. “Thanks, Nicky. I really do appreciate that. You’re not so shabby yourself.”

He rolled his eyes, but took a sip of his drink to try to hide his growing smile. He failed. “Hey, if you ever get tired of being a big bad detective and working for the BPD, you should come join me. We can open our own independent investigators agency.”

Nick laughed and draped his arm over the back of the swing. “Who knows. Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer one day.”

“Oh? Really? I always figured I’d see a newspaper headline when we’re both ninety about how you finally retired with a mile long list of accomplishments. Solving crimes while the war rages on. Maybe transcend the current BPD hierarchy and keep getting promotions for your entire career.”

He hummed and looked them over. Something about the conversation had brought that light back to his eyes and washed away some of the exhaustion that usually left him looking so stern. He no longer looked like the head detective of the BPD, Detective Nick Valentine of Boston fame. He just looked like Nick. And despite themself, Sole liked just Nick. “I don’t know how much longer the force is going to be for me.” He confessed. The last couple of crickets that were still out and about chirped quietly. “I don’t know if it ever was for me.”

Concern thrummed through Sole’s veins, but they had nothing to say to reassure him. He didn’t give them the chance. “But… uh, I wanted to let you know that I see what you do. And I think you do good things, especially when we can’t.”

The crickets quieted. “We should head inside.” Nick announced abruptly, moving to stand.

Sole followed without protest, not looking back into the night as they shut the front door behind them. The warm air of his home welcomed them in and they shuddered at the temperature change. Everything about the interior was warm. 

The living room was cozy, not overly spacious, but not cramped either. A TV stood in the corner, but Sole knew it hadn’t been used more than a handful of times since he’d bought it years ago. The coffee table held no stains or discoloration, but a thin layer of dust sat proudly on top. The couch was a deep, chocolate brown, and overstuffed in the comfiest looking way– that may have been their exhaustion projecting itself, though.

Bookshelves lined the walls, packed tight with fiction and nonfiction. There were crime books, history books, and on occasion Sole would spot a stray comic book. Near the kitchen was his desk, scattered with case files, notes, office supplies, and a lone terminal, also with a thin layer of dust. “It was BPD issued, but I don’t use it.” Valentine commented quietly.

He’d been watching them observe his home with an air of nervousness that was quite unlike himself. They turned at his comment and the brightness behind their gaze nearly knocked the wind out of him. “Your home is so lovely.”

The walk to bypass Concord was easy, but tense. Sole kept low to the ground and watched their feet. Apparently they had stumbled across the smartest dog on the planet, because he picked up on their posture and started creeping alongside them. He sniffed at the air and swiveled his head often, but never sounded the alarm to let Sole know that they were in danger or had any sort of company, so they tried not to let it make them too paranoid. It seemed Preston was right about Concord being quiet.

Preston had given them quite a few landmarks that would indicate the safest and most beelined route to Diamond City. Drumlin Diner was next on that list. The dog trotted alongside them as they straightened up and examined the building from a distance. They knew it was supposed to be a safe-ish place, considering it was a trading outpost, but the people outside sure as hell didn’t look safe, and Sole wasn’t quite sure what they were about to walk into.

They were advised to pick up extra water before they started the bulk of their journey to Diamond City, just in case, so they sucked in a deep breath and muttered, “On high alert, boy. I don’t like this one bit.”

The dog’s whimper in reply made their uneasiness grow, but they continued down the crackling road toward the pair outside the diner. Even from a distance Sole could hear the shouting, though they couldn’t understand it, and before they could get close enough to understand, they were spotted. “Whoa, whoa. Keep your distance! We’ve got some business to attend to here, don’t need you interfering.” The man yelled.

Sole had seen his type before. There was no amount of charisma that could hide the grime that practically oozed off of him. They raised an eyebrow and chanced a glance inside the diner. One look at the woman inside, holding strong in whatever resolution she had, and her frightened looking teenage son and Sole had made up their mind. “Yeah, I don’t think so buddy. What’s going on here?” They asked, continuing to approach.

He sighed and rolled his eyes, gesturing for his companion to keep an eye on the diner, much like Soel gesturing for the dog to keep an eye on his companion. “We’re just here to sort out some business and then we’ll be on our way. The lady’s just being stubborn.”

“What business?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” His companion sneered.

“Yeah, that’s why I asked.”

Obviously, snark was the wrong response in her eyes, and she turned to Sole with her gun raised. “Hey, watch your fucking mouth– hey! You tryna get your buddy to sneak up on us?”

With the dog right where he needed to be, growling from beside them, Sole whipped around in confusion to get a look at where both raiders were now pointing their guns. Some guy in a white t-shirt with quaffed black hair leaned against the corner of the diner, smoking a cigarette and looking on with what seemed to be mild disinterest. Sole couldn’t quite tell with the sunglasses on his face. He flicked out the cigarette and dropped it before he casually made his way over. “Don’t mind my friend here, guys. They tend to get themself into situations without thinking.” 

First, Sole was offended. It wasn’t untrue, but they didn’t know this guy and they’d already heard that enough from Preston. Second, they didn’t know this guy. Why the hell was he sauntering around, claiming he knew them? Hands raised and no air of discomfort despite the two weapons trained on him (it would’ve been three if Sole hadn’t caught on fast enough), he continued. “There’s really no need for all of this. We’re just here to grab some supplies. Surely this can be sorted out quickly so we can get our goods and be on our way.”

The raiders glanced at each other and Sole resisted the urge to make a thousand faces that all translated into what the fuck are you doing at him. Instead, they rested a hand on the dog and let the situation play out. After a brief minute of conferring, the raider man spoke up with newfound confidence that made Sole’s skin crawl, “You’re right. How about this: you help us sort the situation out, and we can all walk away happy? We’ll pass you a few caps and nothin’ has to get violent.”

The post-apocalyptic greaser impersonator glanced at Sole. “What kind of help are we talking?”

“Well, the kid in there owes us caps. Been doin’ business with him for a good minute and it’s time he pays up. That or his old lady does, I really don’t care. As long as we get our money, no one needs to get hurt.”

Sole was ready to punch this guy's teeth out and they were sure it was obvious. “Let me go talk to her.” The greaser said.

The newcomers' charm was something in the same vein as the raider across from them, though it flowed a lot more naturally, and if Sole hadn’t been so good at their job before the war, they might have fallen for it. Absolutely everything about the situation was off and they had barely made it out of Sanctuary. The dog bumped his nose against their hand and looked back to the diner, dragging Sole’s attention back to the greaser, as well. He had leaned against the opening where windows used to be and was speaking casually with the woman inside who was making grand, angry gestures as they spoke with each other. After the conversation ended, the greaser crossed the small patio and walked straight up to the raider man, conveniently keeping him between himself and the other raider. He patted the guy on the shoulder, “Alright, I think we’ve got things all sorted out.”

“Wait, really?” The raider asked.

In the brief moment that the woman redirected her attention back to the diner out of confusion and curiosity, the greaser acted. His gun was in his hand and the shot rang out so quickly Sole hardly even saw it happen. When the man dropped to the ground, dead, his partner didn’t move fast enough to get her gun out before she followed suit. Sole simply stood there. “What the fuck.”

The greaser holstered his weapon and shot them a grin before he walked inside the diner and began speaking with the woman and her son again. Sole stayed stock still for several minutes afterward, simply whispering what the fuck to themself while the dog wagged his tail. Eventually, they gathered themself and followed the greaser inside the old diner.

The woman introduced herself and her son as Trudy and Patrick, and gave Sole the explanation that she had previously given the greaser right before he’d acted; that the raider, Wolfgang, had been peddling drugs to Patrick and was threatening caps out of them. All at once, Sole didn’t feel so concerned, though the overwhelming confusion stuck around.

Trudy gave them a discount on the water they picked up. When they realized they now had more than themself to account for on the trip thanks to their unexpected furry companion, they were grateful Preston had told them to pick up extra water. The dog would need it, and they made sure to pick up some jerky to keep him satiated on the trip to Diamond City– once they were there they’d try to find something better. When they stepped outside to continue their journey, they were immediately on edge when the greaser followed them. So they turned and asked, “What the hell was that?”

“What? Me saving your life?” He responded, just as nonchalant as he had been earlier.

“Sure. We’ll go with that. But why? I don’t know you.”

“Awh, c’mon. Does everything have to have some hidden reason.” Sole narrowed their eyes. “Yeah, I realized how stupid that sounded as soon as I said it. But there really was no hidden reason. Just saw you were in some trouble and thought I’d lend a hand. Call it good karma or something.”

Sole thought for a moment. “Yeah, I’m really not buying that, but thanks anyway. I’m not gonna claim you didn’t help.”

“See! That’s the spirit.”

Sole shook their head, but they couldn’t help laughing. While they knew this guy was up to something, he was certainly a character and Sole had to appreciate that. ��Anyway, thanks, but I’m gonna be heading out, so…” They awkwardly raised their hand in a short wave.

“Oh, where are you headed?”

“Okay I know we did the thing where I thanked you even though we both know your behavior is odd, but that wasn’t me indicating that you can keep pushing.”

He shrugged. “I mean, I’m not gonna make you tell me, I’m just curious. Who knows, we might be headed to the same place.”

Sole knew they shouldn’t say anything, but the words left their mouth before they could stop themself, with a sigh. “Diamond City.”

“Nice! Me too.”

“Uh huh. Right. Sure. I guess we’ll see each other there, then.”

They turned to walk away and the greaser fell into step beside them with ease, that same crooked grin never leaving his face. They could see their own exasperation in the reflection of his sunglasses. “I mean, you do seem a little lost. Since I’m already heading that way, I could show you the route. But, if you wanna risk getting lost…” He shrugged. “Be my guest.”

Sole wanted to throw something, but they weren’t sure if that was a general feeling or if they specifically wanted to throw something at him. They weren’t surprised that their disorientation read on their face; any resemblance of a poker-face that they had before the war had apparently died in cryofreeze. At least, that’s what they were telling themself– Curie said it was due to trauma, but they liked to politely ignore what Curie said about them sometimes. Considering the greaser’s performance at the diner, the advantage having an extra gun would bring, and the fact that they were already feeling a little lost, Sole reluctantly relented. “Fine.”

“Really?”

“What? You made that offer expecting me to say no?”

“Yeah, I mean. You really shouldn’t accept help from strangers. They could be unsafe. You don’t even know my name.”

Yeah, they definitely wanted to throw something at him, if only so they didn’t have to admit that they found him a little funny. It seemed they weren’t the only one who had kept their sense of humor after the war. “What’s your name?”

“...Stephen.”

“Alright, that was a fuckin’ lie.”

“Yeah, it was. You gonna tell me your name, now?”

“You literally just lied to my face and you want my name.”

“Yeah. I mean, you can make one up too. What am I gonna do, stop you?”

Sole groaned. “I don’t have the energy for that.” 

“Bummer. It’s a good habit to get into.”

“Lying?”

“If it keeps you safe.”

They stared at each other and Sole got a chill up their spine. There was just something about ‘Stephen’ that set off every investigator’s instinct, every survival instinct, every single type of instinct they had. Something was wrong, but they couldn’t figure out what. They kept walking and the greaser kept pace, with Dogmeat trailing close behind.

Valentine had gotten them a throw blanket, a mug of tea, and the TV remote (along with a change of batteries) to help them settle in for the night. It was quite late when the pair had finally made it inside, and it would only be wise for them both to head to bed, but it seemed they were both hesitating. 

Sole had draped the throw over their lap as they sat on the couch (they’d refused to take Nick’s bed and had finally won after a long back-and-forth), awkwardly blowing on the steaming mug of tea as Nick hovered in the doorway. While his concern for their safety was nice, and they were grateful to have actually made a partner out of Nick instead of them both feeling forced to work together, they couldn’t stand the awkwardness. “Alright, either come sit down or go to bed. You’re just staring.”

Nick didn’t move for a second, thinking over the options. Finally, he pushed himself away from the doorframe and crossed the living room to sit down next to Sole, folding his legs over one another. They set their tea down on the coffee table and turned to him, “You’re going to be asleep right down the hall.”

“Yes.”

“So if anything happens you’ll be here in about two seconds. Ten if you close the door.”

“I’m not closing the door.”

“Two seconds.”

Nick pressed his lips together. Sole, too tired to continue the conversation, reached out with the remote and flicked the TV on– while it would definitely be harder to hear if something was happening outside, they simply wouldn’t be able to sleep in silence without a distraction, and if they were going to get back on top of the case, they needed all of the rest they could get. Nick didn’t budge when the TV turned on, nor through Sole turning down to volume to a comfortable level where they could sleep, nor when they scooted to lay down and folded their legs up onto the couch. “Goodnight, Nick.” 

“Goodnight, Sole.”

Unfortunately for the Commonwealth’s latest dynamic duo, nature suddenly decided that they had gone too long without much rain, and an absolute monsoon had moved in shortly after they crossed a bridge into what Stephen had declared the outskirts of Diamond City. He declared it too unsafe to continue, considering they were soaked to the bone and couldn’t see more than foot in front of their face, and they seconded his reluctance to try to creep around super mutants in the storm.

Instead, he quickly found a little half-collapsed apartment block, one that Sole distantly recalled looking at when they were initially planning to move to Boston, and snuck them through the rubble a little deeper where it was dry. The space they ended up in was covered in a thick layer of dirt and dust, likely mostly untouched since the building had collapsed. It looked to once be a small bedroom if the half of a bed frame that stuck out from under the collapsed ceiling was anything to go by.

There was a small space in the walls where Sole could see through the crossing remnants of collapsed materials to the outside world, where a thick sheet of pouring rain obscured any actual view. They could hear dripping and dribbling water throughout the rubble and a brisk chill blew through the room, sending them shuddering at the cold from their soaked clothing. While they sent the dog to the furthest corner to shake off without spraying them, Stephen caught their attention. “Here.” He nudged their arm.

In his hand he held a thin blanket. “It’s not much, but it’s what fits in my pack. Can’t have you catching a cold and dying before we reach our destination.”

“What about you?” They asked, admittedly less out of concern and more out of suspicion of his generosity.

“Oh, I’m used to all this, don’t worry about it.”

Sole wished they were more selfless and had put up more of a fight, but they weren’t. The cold was making their hands shake, though it wasn’t from the actual temperature. When the dog had gotten the excess water loose from his fur, he trotted over to lean against them were they had sat in the corner. Sole made sure that he was actually only damp to the touch before pulling him under the blanket, as well, and redirected their attention to blowing warm air onto their cupped hands. Every time, they feared that the air would come out as icy as they remembered. “So.” Stephen started, “What’s the dog’s name?”

“What?”

“The…” He gestured to their dog pressed to their side. “Dog?” He questioned, his tone containing a hint of ‘obviously.’

“Oh. He doesn’t have a name.”

“How… you didn’t name your dog?”

“He’s not mine. I mean, he is now, but I just found him today.”

“Hm. We should name him, then.”

“Got any bright ideas?”

Stephen appeared to genuinely think for a moment before he said, deadpan, “Dogmeat.”

Sole rubbed their temples. “I’m not naming him Dogmeat.”

“It’s a good name.”

“Absolutely not.”

“He likes it, look! He’s wagging his tail.”

“He wags his tail at everything.”

“No, watch.” And Sole reluctantly looked at the dog while Stephen called out, “Dogmeat.”

The dog’s tongue lolled out of his mouth and his tail thumped against the ground even harder, giving the fur a good coating of dirt since it was still damp. “I hate it here.” Sole responded, shaking their head.

Stephen laughed. “Go ahead and get some rest, I’ll keep watch. Shouldn’t be any issue here unless radroaches decide they don’t like the rain anymore and decide to join us.”

Sole screwed up their face, but was agreeable enough to the idea of resting. They knew they would regret it in the morning, but they laid on the floor, blanket draped over them and Dogmeat as a pillow. It took mere seconds of listening to the dripping water echo through the building, the rain pounding the pavement outside, and feeling the exhaustion hit them like a truck, for them to fall asleep.

[dysperdis]

Ugh, I'm having problems with the folks upstairs & I'm doubting the line between setting reasonable boundaries and landlord brain* 😖

But, like, I haven't been able to fit any trash in the shared bin in like 6 weeks b/c they keep filling it with recyclables and compost (normally I'd clear out room & sort stuff properly, but it's been hot & I can't deal with the maggots 😭); someone decided to store tires blocking the entrance to my suite & MOVED THEM BACK after I moved them out of the way; they're piling absolutely rancid bags of trash in my part of the garage where it can leak on my stuff; I have to hound them for weeksto do their share of the yardwork (a division we ALL agreed on when we signed the agreement- I have allergy-induced asthma, so keeping pollen down is a health issue for me); they're using THREE households worth of power according to BCHydro & sticking me with the bill (for comparison, with 7-8 ppl, the max we managed was 2- it's 4 of them + me rn, they have 3 A/Cs running & I haven't even set mine up...)

... & this is just shit that's been an issue in the past 2 weeks. Like, I've just accepted that I do laundry once an week, because that's how often the machine is free. Again, 5 people living in the house, and I can't even get more than 1 load thru most weeks- yet somehow my laundry detergent & softener keep disappearing like I'm doing laundry almost every day...

At what point do I say "fuck you, you're being assholes"? Like, potential landlord-brain aside, they're just horrible to live with, & Idek how to deal with their bullshit...

(*Keeping in mind that I'd love nothing more than to be able to work for a living, but as it stands, the down payment on this place essentially cost me half a meter of intestine + the ability to walk on slopes for more than a few meters without severe pain, so, like, pls don't vent your frustrations at bad landlords at the cripple who managed to get a decent insurance payout & convinced a lender to give em a mortgage while ey could still work steadily before eir disabilities caught up with em, kthx?)

[nathank77]

6/19/24

8:50 a.m Edited/Added to

So of course last night was the first time I forgot to write down my closed eyes time, why? My timer went off for Mouthwash I was super tired and I was fighting my eyes and I was like yea right you won't fall asleep, you'll need to pee. I was like I'll close my eyes and in 5 or 10 minutes use Mouthwash. I believe my timer went off at 10:59 but Idk. I was out like a light. Dead to the world. I woke up at like 5:30 a.m. I tried to sleep until like 6:15 a.m and I couldn't fall back to sleep. I didn't want to use drugs bc I don't want to wake up at like 12 p.m or even 10 a.m. I want to wake up everyday at like 8 a.m the latest... In order to keep a strict circadian rhythm and fight circadian rhythm disorder you need to be strict about your sleep/wake cycle.

I probably got like 6 hours and 15 minutes of sleep. Still not a single 7 hour night but I'm getting closer. I think my circadian rhythm is adjusting.

Unfortunately tonight I need to go back to a half mg. Or at least try.. I'm going to take my half mg at 9:30... so I can take the other half by like 11 p.m or something after 1 hour of closing my eyes and presumably failing. We will see what happens. If I have to take the second half... at that point it'll be day 3 and by day 4 my tolerance will forever be raised.. so tomorrow I'll just take the full mg and accept it.

Today I started laundry. All my attic clothes from my old dresser will be complete and put in a bin. Stupidly bc I'm a hoarder i tried to go through it but can't make my mind up for various reasons.. so I decided to wash it all and decide later. Some of the basketball shorts are brand name but very small... I mean I have good reasons for being like idk. I'm also going to put tide cold wash directly on the arm pit stains and see if it comes off my second load... I mean some of the pit stains got removed from a general wash in it.. so maybe I can save all my nice shirts. I'm keeping them regardless bc I know I can try different things to lift the hard surface stains over time.

I emailed the board and asked if i could provide more documentation like my night at the psych ward and my primary care for documentation of my insomnia.

I put my graduation stuff in that corner. It isn't perfect but it looks better. I might move more posters around today.

I got to go grocery shopping and return my gloves. I'm also going to pick up my testosterone today. I'm going to do all of this before my t-shot at 3:45 p.m so I can come home and shower.

My sister has a tripod I'm waiting on so I can get my car photo shoot pictures. I might make some phone calls before I go to the grocery store.

I'm getting shit done. I really hope I don't have to raise my tolerance but we will see.

Also I detailed pooping problems on my sleep tracker. I started 2000mg of white mulberries 4 days before I had some problems and l salivarius 3 days before. It could be l salivarius. It could be a change in the way I eat which I'm fixing. Idk but we will first start changing my eating order and see if it fixes it, if it doesn't, then we will take out l salivarius if that doesn't work I'll take my white mulberries to 1500 again... and see if that works. Then try l salivarius again.

I have a feeling it's my sleep schedule with the eating habits being changed but we will see. As I had 4 days of the white mulberries and 3 days of l salivarius that everything was normal and then I didnt sleep...

My hallucination is making me want to die. It's whatever this is my quality of life.

[ohifonlyx33]

Im just cranky and need to rant because of dryer exhaust air and 2 weeks of bronchitis and bad weather and my dad being insufferable.

My dad's such an anxious person that he worries the pipes will burst every time it's even slightly snowy. Okay so open the cabinet doors, right? No. He can't be normal about his concerns. Instead he hangs bright lamps by the pipes in the basement and leaves them on all night... even though I sleep down there (And often have to wake up at 6 am which makes it hard for me to sleep).

Even though the basement has 2 space heaters and a Kerosene heater at my disposal... and I even have a heating pad if I want it... it's never cold down there. But at least once every 2 weeks he thinks the furnace is going to give out and idk we'll all die of frostbite or something (even in above freezing weather). Like if it really did get bad, couldn't we just... drive to a hotel for the night or call some friends or...?)

I have also mentioned being hot at night multiple times and he persists in asking me if it's cold in the basement. I AM waking up SWEATING. ALL WINTER LONG.

Like, I'm used to his anxious paranoia, as much as I HATE listening to it. That's not even why I'm irritated right now.

No it's just that he's such a logical guy that his new freaking genius idea this winter is to let the dryer exhaust funnel INTO the basement...okay whatever... weird. Don't love it... but ok?

but THEN he put my ONE wet load of laundry in the dryer but split it into TWO and ran them back to back for a few hours (I did not ask him to dry them at all and prefer he would not TOUCH my stuff at all and have always asked people not to do my laundry for me as it's personal for me). Still. I am used to being ignored and hijacked if my laundry sits in the washer for more than an hour it is at risk of getting moved. So maybe that's on me...

But the reason I'm upset is that HE DOES THIS RIGHT BEFORE BED SO NOW I HAVE TO BREATHE IN DRYER SHEETS AND HOT LINT SMELLS..... and IM Suffering. It's like a laundromat in here.. which MIGHT be tolerable if I wasn't trying to get over 2 weeks of bronchitis that has now reached a stage of it being hard to get a deep, satisfying breath. All this and the air is SO DRY. And laying down and breathing through my nose now actually burns a little from the smells.

For YEARS when I was a child, he thought the kitty litter causing me to be asthmatic if I so much as cleared my throat too many times at supper... this is the same man who thought my current bronchitis might be from some imaginary mold he just decided was in our car vents instead of a secondary infection after the tooth infection I was on antibiotics for 3-4 weeks ago or the multiple gross (but cute) children that sneeze and cough on me all day at work...

But somehow he never thought exhaust fumes and dust might be IRRITATING to my lungs while I'm literally on antibiotics for bronchitis?

He also has to describe what snow is and how it works like I've never seen it, every time it might snow on a day that I work.. he has to tell me again how it makes roads unsafe to drive on as if I'd never driven on it before (I'm not a teenager). As if he couldn't just say "drive safe" (as if I'm purposefully reckless) and suggest I take a safer route (as if I didn't already know that)... he has to basically infer that I am incapable of having any sound judgement in these matters and forcefully dictate how slow I am to go and exactly which road to take and. And. AND. aNDANDaaaaND.... he's done that to my mom too. For years. Every time the weatherman says it might snow even a little. He cries wolf for every snowflake. To the point when I am surprised if we even GET snow at all.

Please can I take this as a personal attack? Its psychological warfare...

His worry is not even a valid expression of love at this level. It's just twisted.

[skinni-girls-eat-books]

Friday, November 17th, 2023

8:20am woke up, feel good! Yay let's keep going!

9:15am took a shower for the first time in definitely over a week! Washed my hair and shaved my pits. Will get around to shaving my legs soon lol. Also ped-egged my feet even though it's not my favorite thing to do and they feel and look so much better :) all that in less than an hour! I always have this weird thing where showers either take a normal amount of time or I like dissociate while I'm in there until the water turns cold... But both are good and both are still taking a shower so I shouldn't be scared of that ❤️

10:30am Cleaned out the fridge and freezer and my clothes are in the dryer! Going to get some bread

4pm Did Part 1/3 of my EOS Exam and I think I did good! Fucked up one part but idc lol shock value questions are just that... Don't worry 💅 shitty weather still so I'm going to pick up my holds from the library and finish my laundry. You're doing great queen ❤️

6:15pm Did my eyebrows when I got home a few minutes ago! Just chilling no pants on this Friday night. I have to remind myself that I'm not *being boring or lame* by not going out every night. I'm simply existing in my apartment that I pay good money for and keep very clean for this exact reason - to be able to relax and do whatever I want when I'm here, this is my space to unwind and recharge ❤️

Relax, please

10:09pm Finished my laundry! Also read a chapter of my book! I am going to try to watch a movie but will probably fall asleep 😂 I am sleepy but I want to keep doing things!

10:53pm ok so I forgot that I wanted to sign up for things on social nature so my next big task™ while I'm waiting for the new vouchers in the mail is to find the old ones that I have and short through them! I think most are in my dresser drawer but some might be on other countertops so I will do that tomorrow or Sunday :)

11:58pm burnt my burger :/ ok so next time, like basically no oil in the pan bc that burger is loaded w fat/oil. Also medium heat not medium high, and flip like right before 4 minutes. I think the tons of oil was the main reason it burnttt. Also, maybe put the buns in the microwave bc the toaster pretty much dried it out. Just keep cooking and you'll get better, don't give up! It'll come back to you in no time ❤️

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Part 10

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Angst / (Eventual) Smut 18+

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers / unresolved sexual tension

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

A/N: I had to split this chapter due to length. Part 10.5 will follow tomorrow. 

The song inspiration for this chapter is Eric Nam’s The Night

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9 , Part 10 , FINAL Part 10.5

You hadn’t touched the app since you’d done it.

You hadn’t slept much either.

The guilt was eating you alive from the inside and you were pretty sure the ache you felt in your stomach was an ulcer from the stress of living with the horrible mistakes you had made.

Your room was the wrong temperature.

Your bed was uncomfortable.

The light that shone through your window from the moonlight was too bright. You couldn't hide away from it no matter how hard you tried.

No matter how tightly you closed your eyelids you could still see everything too clearly. Even hiding your head under your pillow didn't block it all.

The clock on the wall of your bedroom ticked rhythmically and the sound was counting down to your destruction.

You fought the useless battle against the bright moonlight for hours until you realized the reason why you could so clearly see the messy clothes on the floor in front of your closet and the overflowing wastebasket sitting beside your desk wasn’t because of a super moon occupying the sky outside, but that brightness was actually the sun shining through your window now; alerting you to the fact that you had once again spent an entire night wallowing in your own self pity or self hatred or self loathing or whatever self bullshit was on the docket this time.

It was Sunday morning.

You were sitting on a time bomb as you spread butter on your toast and kept your ears tuned in for the sounds of life inside his bedroom.

You hadn’t really expected him to, but Baekhyun hadn’t appeared since last night when he disappeared inside his bedroom to sleep. You hadn’t heard him playing games all night or even heard his shower running or playing loud music well into the sunrise.

Was he really sleeping?

All night?

Like a normal person?

Or maybe like someone who wasn’t too weighed down by the pressure of their own substantial sins might sleep.

You knew that Baekhyun liked to sleep in late on days when he had nothing pressing to attend to. You’d both gotten in late last night and he probably wouldn't make an appearance until late morning. Maybe not even until lunchtime.

Your toast was bland and floppy by the time you took a bite and you scowled down at the disappointing thing. Surely and somehow you could blame yourself for this breakfast failure. It wasn’t the toaster. That thing was perfect. It was you. You’d waited too long to eat it. You’d been wallowing for too long and now it was a waste.

It was all a waste.

You’d drive yourself crazy at this rate. You needed a distraction to get through it.

You would do laundry and clean your bathroom and tidy your room and maybe then you could think.

Think about what you had done to Mia, what you had done to Baekhyun; think about how low that was and how undoable it was. It wasn't like you could un-delete the messages.

You worked on your Sunday chores and you were thinking hard. The doubt was heavy and made the load of laundry you carried out of your bedroom feel this basket was full of bricks and you were walking on a sandy beach.

How would Baekhyun react? Would he know that you had been the one to delete the messages or would he blame it on a glitch in the system? What would he think of you when Mia told him that he’d agreed to meet her himself last night. Last night when he was asleep.

What would happen to Mia?

Would she sit alone at the cafe for an hour waiting for him or would she text him right away?

Would she quietly absorb her disappointment at being stood up or would she blame him for it. Had you just made him the bad guy? Your sweet Peanut — a villain?

You didn't want to hurt her. You had liked her. Your jealousy had just taken over last night. You’d never been stood up before but you imagined it felt awful. Baekhyun knew what it felt like. Would it hurt him terribly to believe that he had somehow played a part in causing someone else that kind of pain by making the mistake of associating with you; the mistake of trusting you?

You’d been watching your laundry spin around in a circle for a half an hour now and you looked up on top of the machine to see the carefully measured cup of soap sitting there. You’d been so lost in your thoughts that you forgot to put it in. The disappointment you felt in yourself was fitting it hardly even made a dent in the already deep down in the mud mood you were in.

You’d have to stop the cycle and restart it with soap. You’d wasted all of that water.

If Baekhyun knew about this he would be so disappointed in you. He would complain and nag about the irreparable damage you’d done to the Earth, to his Earth, his planet, his home. The only one he had to live on.

And you deserved to be nagged. You deserved to be scolded and yelled at and you deserved to be made to feel like the absolute scum of the earth because what you had just done to him was unforgivable.

Would he really never forgive you?

Was this what finally did it? Not your laziness or your pranks or your inability to pay rent on time, but this? You’d been given his trust and you’d trampled all over it. You’d taken what he’d given you, his friendship and his access to him, to his privacy that he valued above all else and you’d squandered it for selfish and jealous and disgusting reasons. You’d trampled all over it, all over him. Again and again you showed that you didn’t deserve someone like him. You’d sinned against him and for what?

To stop him from dating a girl who you’d pushed him toward in the first place.

You were an asshole. The worst kind. A jealous, petty, selfish asshole.

You felt it then. You’d paused your load of laundry and you reached for the soap after the water drained from the tub. You held the button down to cancel and reset the cycle and you watched the digital display blink angrily at you, telling you that what you were trying to do was not allowed, it was against the rules. You were supposed to just let the wash cycle happen, you were just supposed to let it happen, you had been the one to push the button, you started it, why were you pausing right now why were you stopping and reversing when this was what you wanted? What kind of asshole stops the cycle right in the middle?

The numbers on the screen blurred. It was a blinking fuzzy red tinted mess. You could feel the sting and then the relief of the tears that crested and fell and you exhaled through a mostly stuffed up nose.

You couldn't do this to him.

The tears on your face were warm and wet and they fell freely as the intense regret washed over you completely.

This wasn’t you. You weren’t this person. You weren’t underhanded and sneaky. You didn't have the stomach for it. You felt like you might be sick just imagining poor Mia sitting there waiting for him, thinking the worst of him, believing that he was that kind of selfish cruel man who would treat a woman this way. That wasn’t fair to Baekhyun and you’d been a real monster to try such a low down dirty trick like this.

You had to fix this.

You were out of any other options other than honesty. You had to tell him exactly what you had done last night in a moment of misguided weakness, in a moment of stupidity and you had to tell him that he still had time to go meet her, to talk about whatever it was she wanted to tell him.  

You swallowed the lump in your throat and went into your bathroom to clean your face up. You would not let him be swayed by the selfish tears on your face. You had to control yourself and confess your crimes and you had to be straightforward and strong about it.

You gripped your cell phone and you inhaled a breath through your nose and exhaled it slowly through your mouth. Your exhale hiccuped once from the earlier upset and so you did it again; breathing in deeply, filling your lungs as full as you could and exhaling in one long continuous breath; until it was stable again, until you could feel your racing heartbeat relinquishing the manic control it had over you.

His door was closed and it was quiet behind the door.

You knocked twice, listening carefully over the thumping in your chest for the sound of his voice from inside.

Finally it came; a soft hum from within.

“Baekhyun—” You called through the door, “can I come in?”

His voice hummed again, low and sleepy, and you turned the knob, pushing the door open and then pushing yourself forward slowly.

He was in his bed, half under his covers with a leg sticking out and he rolled away from the wall he was facing as you came into the room, pulling his blanket down to uncover his face, his eyes peered at you as he squinted against the light in the room.

“Hmm?” He hummed again and his eyes closed back up.

You held your phone out toward him and you moved closer to his bed. He squinted one eye open and lifted a hand palm up which he quickly dropped back down onto the bed, clearly still half asleep.

“Did you break your phone?” His voice was thick with sleep and his eyes were still closed as he talked to you.

“No, I didn’t break it. I did something wrong.”

“Give it. I’ll fix it.” He was talking again, reaching again with more conviction now as the spell of sleep that he had been under began to break.

He was sitting up. He was looking at you with his warm brown eyes and he was blinking as he tried to focus on what you were saying to him.

“No. I didn't break it. I did something wrong,” you repeated for emphasis and continued for clarity, “I did something bad to you. Last night when you were asleep—”

Oh this was hard. His brows lifted and you had his attention. Your words, the seriousness of then sharpened his eyes on you as you spoke.

“Last night, Mia messaged you...after the date.”

Baekhyun’s eyebrows furrowed and he was watching you very closely as the words emerged. His eyes were focused on your face and his mind was processing what you were telling him. He was still sleepy but your words were pulling him out of it. His hands gripped the cellphone you’d pushed into his hands.

“I opened the app you made for me. I read a message that Mia sent you. She wanted to meet you for coffee t-today— this afternoon, in less than an hour.”

You could feel your control slipping as you spoke the truth about the awful thing you had done and you had to look down and away from his face as you continued your confession otherwise that thickness you felt in your throat would come through in your voice. Otherwise you might not make it through this without crying. You promised yourself already that you would not do that. You had to get this out and it had to be clear and controlled. You did not deserve his sympathy or even his forgiveness. This violation had been inexcusable.

Your own hands were empty. You’d given him your phone and he was holding it now.

“I pretended to be you, told her you would meet her and then I deleted the messages so you would not see them. So that you would stand her up. It was wrong of me. It was a mistake. I’m sorry. You can delete the app, or change the permissions or do something. I’m sorry. I know you trusted me and I messed it all up — Baekhyun, you can still make it. You can get ready and go meet her for coffee. She had something she wanted to ask you. If you get ready now, you won't miss her. She wont get stood up because — because I fucked up and I acted like an asshole.”

Baekhyun’s sleepy face had changed as you spoke. You inhaled a deep breath and looked into his eyes and you found him watching you with a new hardness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before and his hand gripped tight enough to snap around your cell phone.

You could feel the blood under your skin just at the surface, heating your flesh and flushing your cheeks. You pulled your lips tight to keep the tremble out of them and he was watching your face too closely for you to be able to keep up the eye contact.

“Bug, why would you do that?” He spoke through clenched teeth and all traces of his earlier sleep were gone.

“I’m sorry. It just felt so bad and I knew it was wrong but I did it anyway and I have no excuse.”

You felt the bed move when he shifted and he was pushing himself up into a full seated position with his legs hanging over the side of his bed.

The movement made you push back and away, clearing a path for him to get up. You knew he had to get ready quickly if he wanted to make it in time. What if there was traffic?

“You still have time to make it— if you go now,” you said with a quick glance up into his eyes and you noticed he’d abandoned your phone on his bed as he moved. “She’ll be waiting for you.”

Baekhyun wasn’t standing yet and he was still looking at you with that odd hardness in his eyes and a very slight back and forth head shake as his only significant movement.

Your mind was preoccupied with the ticking clock on the wall and he was still just sitting there on his bed looking at you.

Yes, you had disappointed him. Yes, you had fucked up. But you were trying here. You were trying to make this right and you knew it wasn’t fair to him to throw this surprise coffee date on him at the last second but you’d fucked up and you couldn't think of any other way to fix it other than to get that man to stand up and get dressed so he could go meet her right now.

You reached for his hand and you grabbed lightly around his wrist and you pulled.

“Baekhyun. You need to move. You’re not moving. Please.” Your pleas were growing desperate. How in the world would you fix it if he wouldn't let you fix it?

“Is it because you were upset about Ben?” When he finally moved it was not his body or his legs it was his mouth and you let your hand sag with his wrist still suspended in your grasp.

He moved then, Baekhyun stood up and you let your hand fall away from his arm, pulling your arms up awkwardly to cross them over your chest. You took another step away. The discomfort flowed through your entire body. You’d created this problem. This was all your fault. This atmosphere was unbearable and you could only blame yourself.

You were looking down at your feet and you wished he wasn’t watching your face as closely as he was as his eyes roamed over your pained expression. He was still shaking his head and you could tell that he was trying his hardest to make sense out of your terrible actions.

You were his friend. Surely his friend had to have a good and valid reason for doing this to him, right? Surely it wasn’t just because maybe she was a bad person and did bad things.

With your eyes on your feet though, it was easier to shake your head and deny that Ben had anything at all to do with why you’d attempted to sabotage his new relationship.

“Baekhyun, you can still make it,” your voice was a whisper. You could feel your careful resolve crumbling the longer you stood here under his watchful eyes. You could feel it in your chest. Your breathing pushed hard against your lungs that fought against the oxygen and your heart pounded so noisily inside of you that you began to wonder if that had been the clock you heard all along or your own rhythmic countdown forecasting your demise.

You had to shake your head. You had to squeeze your eyes tight and push with all of your might. You couldn't face this. It was too hard.

“If not Ben—” he was speaking again. Your eyes were closed.

“Then why?” you heard an inhale of breath from him and it was trembling. The sound of his pain, the sound of his suffering called to you and you opened your eyes to look at him. His eyes were closed and he had a hand raised with his fingers held up.

The agitation you heard in his breathing moved him and his body came to life as he shifted on his feet, spinning in a slow circle where he stood, he lifted both of his hands to run through his hair and his eyes were closed up tight enough for his vision to go white.

“You can’t do this to me. You can’t do this to me again. It’s not fair.” He was speaking under his breath and you were drawn to his words as confusion rushed over your thoughtful mind. The part of your mind that made sense of things was left in a cloud.

Again? Had you really hurt him this badly before? Your memory raced through the history you had with him and you looked over his features in worry.

When his eyes opened back up he was looking into your face with that same dark look, the look that made you want to shrink up and hide from it. The look that somehow saw you for exactly what you were and knew just how bad of a person you could be.

“I’m trying to fix it — I don't know what to do, Baekhyun. I don't know what I should do.”

Your feet had carried you toward his door. You could feel the overwhelming urge to escape this. To escape your own mistakes and problems and run from them. To leave this place and to hide from the way he was looking at you right now. He was still just shaking his head and staring at you. He wasn’t moving to get showered or dressed or changed even, he wasn’t grabbing his keys or his phone to leave to go meet her, why didn’t he do something?

He must have noticed your movement. Baekhyun took several large steps toward where you’d wandered near his door and you froze when he moved.

He was upset. You could see it in the way he carried his body through the space and you heard it in the rough way he pulled at the doorknob to his bedroom and swung it open.

You’d half expected him to head toward the front door. Maybe he’d forgotten that he needed to change out of his comfy sweats if he was going to meet a girl for coffee.

He left his door open and you followed his quick steps. You followed the path he took through the living room and you turned when he turned toward your bedroom. You stood back as you watched his hand turn your door knob and he disappeared through your doorway, into your bedroom. You heard your closet. Your heart felt like it was throbbing inside of your chest when you saw him emerge with a familiar bag; your big suitcase, the one that was still stuffed full with your coats from the last time you had been convinced you needed to pack up and leave this place you called home.

You felt like you might be sick.

Did he want you to leave? Was he packing your bag for you? The panic that grew in your belly was powerful and it threw you back against the wall of the hallway that led to your bedroom.

This was it. He’d finally had enough of your shit. This was it.

You’d done it.

You’d lost your best friend.

Baekhyun had disappeared with your bag and you heard a door shut somewhere within his room. You heard the sound of a set of keys. There was a ringing in your ears.

“Tell me why.” His voice was back. He was back. He was standing in front of you and you looked up into his eyes and the breath he inhaled trembled as it went in and filled his lungs with air. He lifted a hand and his fingers shook as he rubbed them over his mouth. “You can’t run away now. I have your bag. Tell me why. Why did you do that?”

He’d gone for your bag first. Just as you had always gone for the bag the minute something snapped in you and you’d convinced yourself that you could simply leave if things got too uncomfortable or too hard to bear. It felt significant. It felt like your reckoning. You couldn't run away this time. He knew you would try that first and Baekhyun wasn’t going to let you; not until he had the truth.

“You always have a good reason. You always make sense — to me. You always make sense to me. Everything you do, I understand why you do it. But...this, it doesn’t make any sense. You’re the one who picked her. You’re the one who started this. You’re the one pushing me to go to her. Why did you do this? Why are you doing this to me? It’s so unfair.”  

Baekhyun’s voice was unstable. His hands were trembling and you could feel the deep frustration in his words. He was right. He was completely right.

No false explanation you could come up with would make any sense.

Only the truth made sense.

The humming in your ears and the burning in your eyes and the pounding in your chest had built up too much. It was too hard to control. It was too hard to contain.

The longer you sat in it; the longer you withstood it, the less you wanted of it.

You closed your eyes and you let it out.

It came out as a whisper.

“I told you, I was shameless.”

They hit you like a bomb. Those words that you spoke out loud to him; with your own mouth. Your own voice that betrayed you so completely.

The aftershocks echoed around inside of your head and you blinked fast and hard, trying to control the stinging wetness that pooled inside of your eyes.

Baekhyun had gone completely still.

You could no longer hear the unstable breathing from his lungs.

“What did you just say?” His voice had no strength left. You could not look at him.

Oh no.

You’d done it.

You had to inhale to live. You had to open your eyes and you rolled them around to keep the moisture at bay, looking everywhere except for him. You felt like crying. You felt like losing your flimsy control once and for all and screaming, sobbing, falling to the floor to deal with this incredible anxious feeling that was surging up inside of your body.

It was out. That secret of yours. It ripped you apart when it exited and you felt more unstable than you’d ever felt. You were about to cave in. Control was overrated anyway.

“I told you I act dumb and desperate and jealous, Baekhyun. I told you I make mistakes. I’m shameless.”

You heard the step he took. It was a stumble. Your words had thrown his balance off and he caught the step quickly. The sound of it pulled your focus.

Baekhyun looked at you, a stunned expression on his face and his eyes, his eyes which always held so much comfort and security for you, those eyes that were always so warm, they traveled over your entire face as his lips fell open.

“What does that mean?” His lips hardly moved when he spoke. You watched a hand lift and it landed squarely over his chest and there was a movement in his fingers; an involuntary shake in them. His fingers flexed and he clawed over his chest.

“Does that mean...do you mean...what I think you mean?”

You felt the first tear fall. It slipped out and ran down your face and you lifted a hand to wipe it quickly.

“It means I’m in love with you, Baekhyun. I’m sorry. I was jealous of her. I couldn't watch you and her like that. So I acted like that — I did that to her, to you both. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to stop loving you. I don't even know where to start.”

Your breathing was heavy. Your face was wet and whatever flimsy control you thought you had over yourself had shattered with your honest confession. More than just what you had done to him, this felt so much more damning. This was the truth about what was inside your heart.

This was the scariest thing you had ever told him. It felt so much worse than when you told him you’d lost your job and would start looking for a new place to live.

The silence that surrounded you amplified your labored breathing and you’d given up on catching the tears that slipped down your cheeks. There was no stopping it. You’d been a fool to think that you could hide this.

Baekhyun hadn’t moved. He stood frozen a few feet away from you and when he did move it was to lift a palm to cover over his face for a moment.

“Are you serious?” You heard him say. You swallowed hard and squeezed your eyes closed. “Bug, are you serious? You—”

“You’re in love with me?”

You wrapped your arms around your stomach tightly and with your eyes closed you nodded your head once.

Your ears caught movement.

Baekhyun was moving. Your fear and your shame flashed images into your mind, images of him vanishing; images of him closing himself up in his room; images of him telling you he just couldn't live with you any more.

Baekhyun was moving. You could hear him. Your eyes burned and begged to open and when you gave in you flinched to find him standing right in front of you. He was here. He stood in front of you and his eyes were wide on your face.

In those eyes you saw what you could only describe as a look of concern. Baekhyun was looking at your face and the warmth that arrived with his body heat coated you. Inside of your chest, something was building, something was burning, something was changing inside of you with the look in his eyes you could not pull your own eyes away from him when he was standing so close to you like this.

The wall behind your back was so cold and he was warm.

He was moving. His hands were moving. You felt the warmth of his palms land over your wet cheeks and he was wiping your tears, drying the wetness from your skin with the palms of his hands and with his soft fingertips. He moved so gently over you. He touched you so carefully. The pounding inside of your chest raged out of control. The ragged breathing that had ahold of you earlier seized up and you could feel the dizziness building upon itself, yet you could not make your lungs cooperate; not with him so close to you. Not with him looking at you up close with that look in his eyes and his hands still holding your face.

“LoveBug.” His whispered breath warmed your mouth. The soft name he called you coated the back of your tongue like some sweetened medicine. You swallowed down the moisture that pooled and he was close enough to you that his breathing fanned against your lips, over your tongue when your lips parted.

“Do you know that I belong to you?” It came out as a whisper. This tiny question that lit you on fire. Your lungs burned.

“Do you know that?”

You felt another tear escape and he leaned into you then. You felt too stunned to react. This did not feel real. Perhaps you had actually fallen asleep last night and you were dreaming. The warm brush of his thumb below your eye, wiping the wetness away again and again as the tears fell. The warm puff of his breath over your closed eyelid and the softness of his lips that pressed a kiss onto the softness of your cheek where your tears had just been dried.

“I belong to you. I’m yours. I’ve loved you for so long.”

These words he said pulled your eyes into his.

The discord in your brain echoed. How was this real? Nothing was making sense inside of your head, so you exhaled through it. You let your lungs deflate and the final bursts of air that left your lungs pulled your eyelids down halfway and you couldn’t stand the distance, you had to touch him. His hands were so warm and his eyes were so magnetic and what was he saying to you? He loved you.

He loved you.

Baekhyun loved you. He said so himself. He said he was yours and he’d gone still again, his breathing stopped puffing over your skin when your hands reached for his waist and you gripped around his shirt, bunching the fabric as you pulled. There was a step, to keep his balance and he moved closer to you.

Warmth. Heat. He was everywhere. That smell of him; the scent of the spaces within his bedsheets that smelled like him, his breath, his lungs, his heart inside of his body. With the contact of your hands around his waist you could feel so much of him. When your hands traveled up over the center of this back you felt the wild beating echoing inside of his chest.

It sounded a lot like what was happening inside of your own chest.

The distance evaporated with your hands on him. You felt the softness of his cheek against your own. You heard the quiet grunt from the back of his throat when the tip of his nose brushed over yours and his lips traveled over your entire face. Over the smoothness of your forehead and a path over your eyebrow; up the hill of your cheekbone and down through the softness of your cheek. He was exploring your face with his lips and the spell he put you under was deep. You would have floated away had it not been for the occasional labored puff of air from his parted lips. A mark of his struggle to keep his breathing under control. The man was magic.

His touch was so light and delicate you wondered how he could stand this with as fast as his heart was beating inside of his chest. His hands were moving away from the way he cupped your cheeks and caught stray tears, he moved a single hand to the back of your head, moving lower to cradle the back of your neck and his other hand traced the shape of your jaw with lightly touching fingertips until he reached your lips.

With his eyes half closed and with zero hesitation he moved then. You felt him move. Your eyes were already closed when you felt his lips cover yours.

It began with softness; that same uncertain, wary softness that led his movements. His kiss was gentle and his lips were asking.

The question was quiet.

Your response was not. Your hands pulled hard over his back. His chest was flush with yours already but the constriction of your hold on him sent a clear message.

When your lips parted to his you felt the wetness of his tongue brush against yours and you pulled against him, pulled him into your mouth and the hold of his hand behind your head changed as his grip tightened and his fingers threaded within your hair.

His other hand slipped around your waist and he pulled you tight against his firm warmth. Everything about the kiss was changing. There was an urgency that took over every cell of your body and you were feeling dizzy and when his lips pulled away for a second, you gasped for air from within his parted lips. You could not break the kiss. You could survive inside of his mouth forever. You didn’t even need air that badly.

Baekhyun did not break the contact either. Your desire for closeness was building further and your hands pushed the warm fleece of his sweater up and away from his skin. You felt the first smooth warm bits of the bare skin of his waist and your own skin erupted all over with goosebumps when you felt the tips of his fingers slip under the fabric of your shirt at the small of your back.

It was your own wandering hands that did it. You touched first, the small of his back, then your hand wandered around his waist, as you made your way around to the front of him you heard the low whine that erupted from deep within his body. It was a long frustrated sound and the sound of it pulled your lips into a smile.

Your fingertips were close. You know enough about human anatomy to know that slipping your hand along the waistband at the front of his sweatpants and hooking your index finger just inside the fabric as you moved; well, it was only a matter of time until you were brushing below his navel and you felt Baekhyun jolt back and away from you when you’d done it.

“Fuck,” he cursed with his lips flush against yours and you couldn’t help any of it. He’d put you well under his spell and you wanted every bit of the man. Clearly your hand had come too close and he wasn’t expecting it.

“This is like living out all of my fantasies at once multiplied by a hundred. I don’t think I can take this.”

Baekhyun pulled his face back and away from you then. You used the respite to finally breathe in a deep enough breath to touch that dizziness you’d been feeling. It didn't help much. Was it the desire? You had never felt quite so desperate for another human being to touch you before.

You ached for it. The attention he showed with his wandering fingertips over every bit of skin he could find and the way his eyes and his lips touched you. Nothing about the desire you were feeling felt normal.

Baekhyun dropped a hand from you. It was the hand that had held the back of your neck. He took another step back and placed his hand over his chest. He was looking at you again with a shell shocked expression on his face and lips very pink and swollen from the passion you’d felt in those kisses.

“I feel like my heart is going to explode.” He said and you saw his lips pull into a smile. He was still breathing hard and his gaze changed into something of wonder.

“You like me.” His eyes closed up and the smile pulled wider. You were blinded by it. It was contagious. You could not stop your own smile from mirroring his. “You love me. She fucking loves me.”

“I love you,” you agreed softly. It tasted like relief. It was sweet and satisfying and toothsome. You were wrecked. You probably looked like hell after the sleepless night and all of that crying. He watched you as if you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on. You could see it so clearly. Your eyes sharpened to so much the more you looked around, the clearer your focus became and your eyes were drawn to the wall behind his head.

There, a clock had just struck one.

“What do we do about Mia,” you were the one to say it and still hated the sour taste of the guilt that still sat on the back of your tongue when her name came up. You hadn’t quite considered this outcome. You hadn’t ever considered this.

“Oh god, Mia,” he said. “Oh no.” The smile on his face was gone and you could see the regret land over his features. “I — I think I need to go make a phone call.”

He spoke the words and you nodded your head. Of course he did. Of course you understood completely. Of course his body was still very close to you and of course you could feel the desire to pull him back into your arms and into your mouth.

Baekhyun hadn’t stepped back yet. His words said one thing yet his hands were moving again and he reached for you, wrapping both of his arms around your waist this time he pulled tight and you felt the strength in his arm muscles as he did it.

His face dipped and he kissed you again. You could not resist his lips despite the ticking clock. You craved him. You hadn’t been nearly satisfied enough yet and you wondered if you could ever get enough of him.

His soft lips; the pull of suction inside of his mouth; his tongue; his teeth all demanded and took from you and you wove your fingers into his hair and held him tight as you kissed him back.

You both pulled away at the same time and his labored breathing marked the significant struggle he was facing in letting go and walking away. You did not think it was possible to love this man any more than you already did, but this unrestrained side of him was making your stomach do flips.

“Do you want me to go with you? This is my fault after all.”

He rested his forehead against yours and both of his arms were still wrapped tightly around your waist. He’d been standing still with both of his eyes closed since he’d pulled his mouth away from yours.

You felt him shake his head back and forth and he hummed a no sound from the back of his throat.

“I think I can do it alone,” he said before inhaling a deep breath and exhaling it slowly as he pulled his face back, straightened his shoulders and dropped his arms.

He’d spun on his feet and taken two steps before he turned around and undid all of his progress with two more big steps back in your direction and a grimace of failure on his face.

His hands were up and he was reaching for you again, grabbing you roughly by the cheeks, ignoring the giggles that erupted from your chest as he leaned in and kissed you again. He was smiling too and the first seconds of the kiss was just teeth bumping teeth before you complied and relaxed enough to receive the quick succession of peppered kisses he pressed into your mouth.

“How can I walk away? Turn me around and push me. I can’t walk away from you.”

You were in big trouble. You knew he could be really cute if he wanted to be. You’d had trouble with it in the past.

But this time his intense level of adorableness was caused by his struggle to stop kissing you. You were pretty certain you were even more whipped than you’d ever been for anything ever. If faced with the choice of denying this man or throwing a bag full of puppies off a cliff, you were pretty certain you’d toss the damn dogs just to let this Baekhyun have his way.

How to be the strong one here? All you wanted to do was keep kissing him forever.

“Baekhyun, it’s after one already,” you said, doing your best impression of your serious voice.

“Yes ma’am.” His hands left your face and his lips pulled back into an O shape as he exhaled a breath with his eyes trained pointedly on the ceiling instead of on your face.

This time when he spun on his feet he didn’t look back and you fisted your hands tightly at your side to keep from reaching for him and pulling him back into you after he’d finally built up the strength to resist the incredible magnetism you both clearly had for each other.

His absence afforded you a moment of quiet; a moment of peaceful thought. The aftereffects of what had just happened still buzzed around inside of your chest, inside your belly, and lower; the lingering warmth purred, making it impossible to ignore the incredible effect even this much of his affection had on you.

You had to return to your bedroom to collect yourself. You’d never be able to face him again without throwing yourself at him in desperation and based on the way he’d flinched when you grazed your fingertip along the waistband of his sweatpants, something was telling you the man was simply not ready for such a huge step in such a short amount of time.

The last thing you wanted was to make him feel pressured to do anything he wasn't ready for.

You were an adult. You could be reasonable and you could control yourself.

With a cold shower and a cold drink of water you could survive this. Maybe you would slip and fall in the shower and bang your head and wake up to him giving you mouth to mouth with his hands on your chest giving you life saving chest compressions that would turn into a steamy make out session with some second base heavy petting in the middle of your bathroom floor. One thing could lead to another. You would already be naked and he’d have just saved your life. Surely the situation would make anyone emotional enough to pop their cherry with the girl of their fucking dreams. Really, he’d have just saved your life and you would be ever so grateful if he could also fuck you while he was at it.

The cold water didn’t help at all.

The cold shower at least helped with the absolute wreck you saw when you looked in the mirror. Had you really looked this bad? You hadn’t slept for shit. You hadn’t eaten your sad floppy toast or had any coffee on your upset stomach and your eyes were puffy from all the crying. You must have simply forgotten that you had any hair at all. It looked exactly like it must have looked when you crawled out from the depths of your bed. At this point you wouldn't be surprised to find some leaves or sticks tangled within the rat’s nest.

At least you hadn’t been wearing any makeup on your eyes to create dramatic black streaks down your cheeks, but a little lipstick or blush on your cheeks might have helped some. Anything would have helped. While you confessed your love to this beautiful man you looked like something scraped off the front grill of a semi truck after a 12 hour haul.

You took a few extra moments after your shower to fix whatever you could. It was a delicate balance. You didn't want to make it obvious that you’d gone through the trouble to make yourself super sexy and appealing looking, but you also couldn't just go back out there looking homeless and lost.

You settled for something in between. Something natural and clean looking on your face. Something pretty smelling on your freshly scrubbed skin and you made your way toward your closet wearing your favorite matching bra and panties set.

There was a little lace and just enough push to make your boobs look hot, but still in a neutral enough color that gave a cool and casual ‘oh this ol’ thing?’ feeling should the opportunity for him to actually see it somehow manifested.

Your real dilemma came as you stood in front of your closet.

Did you really need to wear pants? Couldn’t you just prance around your living room in your thinnest white t-shirt and pick things up off the floor that you’d clumsily knocked off the table or the bookshelf or the kitchen counter?

You compromised, picking out a short flouncy skirt and flowy top that liked to fall off the shoulder at inconvenient times and you practically ran out of your room hoping you hadn’t left him stewing in his post difficult phone call mood for too long.

On your way out of your room a familiar piece of paper stuck to the wood caught your eye and you took a step back to look up at the sign you’d hung there a few weeks ago. You tried to be casual about it. You tried your best to be quiet as you carefully lifted the tape that clung to the surface of the door and the paper rattled and crinkled noisily as you pulled. You heard the telltale sounds of paper ripping in half when you pulled. You’d forgotten to carefully lift the tape you put on the sides and the whole thing made quite a racket coming down. So much for discretion.

You were crumbling the whole mess into a tight ball inside your hands as you walked toward the living room and you caught movement on the sofa.

Baekhyun was sitting there it’s his eyes on your hallway, clearly looking up when he heard you coming. His hands were linked over his lap and he was leaning forward, resting on his forearms.

The instinct to hide it was strong and you saw the dip of Baekhyun’s eyes down to your hands and he looked at the ball of paper you hid inside your fist.

He’d just caught you. You’d ripped off your ‘No Boners’ sign from your door and Baekhyun had seen you do it. Now he was looking away from you and his eyes were wide as he stared across the room, looking anywhere that wasn’t at you. His face was tense. His lips were pulled tight and after a few seconds of blank staring he lifted his left hand to cover over his mouth a moment after you saw his white teeth flash with a wide smile and he closed his eyes up. A single snort of laughter escaped from him before he reeled it in and held his breath to stop it.

You had to save it. You had to be casual, dammit. You looked fucking cute right now and this man was in love with you and you loved him too and — God, his hair was wet. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans and everything about him looked casual and beautiful, you were staring. You were staring. You had to stop staring. You had to do something to save this.

You stuffed the paper ball into your pocket and took enough steps to reach the counter of the kitchen bar and you stuck an arm out and leaned against it.

You leaned because leaning was ultra casual and you also thought you might drop from the tension you were feeling inside your body right now if you relied only on your own two legs to hold you up.

How could absolutely none of the effects of your cooling shower have lasted the second you saw him again?

“Hi,” you said as you fought an embarrassed smile and the leaning felt so forced you closed your eyes to will your own face to un-flush.

Baekhyun dropped his hand from his face and his cheeks were pink to match his lips. He was smiling wide, clearly amused by your nonsense. You saw his chest shaking as he laughed and he lifted his hand and bit down on his closed fist. The laughter did not last long. He was looking at you though and his wide smile evened out when he dropped his hand. His eyes did not drop from your face. Not right away. You caught the drift when they did though and the heat you felt increased when you noticed the slow way he took you in from the glimpse of your bare shoulder down to the shortness of your skirt and down the length of your bare legs. His eyebrow danced once over his left eye and his tongue peaked out to moisten his lips before he bit down on the bottom one.

“Hi Bug,” he said.

Well, this was new.

...

[To Be Continued]

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9 , Part 10 , FINAL Part 10.5

Tag list: @j-pping  @blahblahblah-boo  @his-mochi-cheeks  @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13  @baekinmylife  @insta1010  @nana-banana  @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff  @byunbabybaek @maijinki @bbyunz@theclawofaraven @kingkushdealer  @uhobob @baekswifey @punchmebaekhyun @xlxbaekhyuneex @sorrowinblood @catseohyun @rossemayme @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @marovekian1 @versaexact

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby. 

Day 1: The Case Of The Mysterious Shrinking Sweater.

Warnings: Bad Language words

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N:  So this all came about as myself, @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ and @jennmurawski13​ saw a post about Ransom doing everyday things…and yeah, it kinda spiralled. The series will consists of one-shots and drabbles, all light hearted…and the occasional little bit of smut thrown in for your pleasure and we hope a nice countdown to Christmas after what has been an utter shit-show of a year.

We will be taking it in turns to alternate posting so keep your eyes peeled for the next instalments as they arrive. I’ll be re-blogging and tagging my list. 

Series Masterlist. 

 People say that being pregnant was an enjoyable experience, that you glowed and bloomed. But right now the only thing blooming was the feeling of nausea in the pit of your stomach. You lay still, hoping that it would go away, but as usual it didn’t. Swinging your legs off the side of your huge bed, you hurried barefoot over the plush carpet of the bedroom you shared with your husband before dropping with a thud to the floor of the en-suite, emptying the contents of your stomach into the porcelain bowl of the toilet. You repeated the motion again and again until you were retching dry air, your eyes watering, throat stinging and you let out a little sob.

At almost 22 weeks pregnant, this was ridiculous. The whole morning sickness was supposed to have eased off by now, but not for you. Oh no. Mind you, what else were you to expect given that you were expecting his baby.

The spawn of Satan…

“Y/N?” your husband’s deep baritone hit your ears and you turned to look up at him as he stood in the doorway, clad only in his boxers. Strong thighs gave way to a tapered waist, a flat yet slightly soft stomach ran into the hard planes of chest muscle and sculpted arms from years of playing polo (God forbid the asshole do any other form of manual exercise, well apart from the obvious one that got you into this mess in the first place that is). Broad shoulders stretched either side of a strong neck which supported that damningly handsome face with the jawline that could cut glass and those deep blue eyes that had ruined your panties the first time you’d seen them.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale was a beautiful bastard. And he knew it.

“You ok?” he asked. You narrowed your eyes before a fresh wave of nausea hit you and you retched once more.

“Do I look ok?” you shot back, sinking back onto your heels, wiping at your face. You felt Ransom move from the doorway and then heard the tap running.

“Here.” One hand settled between your shoulder-blades, the other handed you a glass of water as Ransom knelt besides you, his blue eyes bearing the warmth that he reserved only for you. You took the drink without a thanks, the usual sarcasm he would display at such an action remained unsaid as you drained the glass and passed it back. “Can I do anything else?”

“Fast forward to January next year so the baby’s here?” you grumbled “I can’t take another damned 4 months or whatever of this, Ransom!”

“Sorry Princess.” He chuckled, “I can’t help you there.” “I hate you.”

“So you keep saying.” He shrugged “But the fact you’re pregnant with my son…kinda proves that you don’t.”

“We were drunk. Besides, hate fucking is a thing.”

“Is hate marrying?”

“Yup.” You nodded. “I only married you so I could divorce you for your money.”

“Well that was almost 2 years ago so why you still here?” he drawled back and you looked at him, snorting as a smirk spread across his face before he tossed his head slightly to throw back the strands of his hair that had fallen forward over his forehead “Thought so.”

“Asshole.”

With a roll of his eyes Ransom helped you to your feet, glancing down at your chest, your swollen breasts visible down the front of your camisole top. His eyebrow arched a little as he raised his head to meet your eyes and you snorted.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Oh come on baby!” he whined, his hands falling to your hips, pushing up the silk of the top you were wearing, his thumbs skating over the curve of your bump “You know what seeing you like this does to me.”

“Seeing me like what? Red faced with puke in my hair?”

“Yeah the puke not so much.” He wrinkled his face, “But I can think of an arrangement here that could potentially eliminate that particular issue.”

“You’re not fucking me in the shower.” You shook your head.

“But…”

“No buts Ransom.” You looked at him as he glared back, his face now wearing the usual petulant expression he bore when he didn’t get his own way “Stop being a brat. I’m up now and I got stuff to do.”

“Yeah? Like what?” he folded his arms. You gave a groan of exasperation.

“I have a conference call with my boss at midday…”

“It’s a Saturday.”

“I know that, but we have a big case…”

“You don’t need to work, tell him to fuck off.”

As usual you ignored Ransom’s dig about your job. He could never understand why you insisted on keeping your role as a Legal Secretary, but then again what was to be expected from the trust fund Man-Baby who had never worked a day in his life. “And there’s a pile of laundry to do.”

“I don’t know why you won’t let me hire a maid….”

“I don’t WANT A FUCKING MAID!” you exploded. Ransom’s eyebrows shooting upwards slightly was the only reaction to your shouting that he gave. “This is our home...”

“Well with the baby on the way, maybe you might want to reconsider that stance.”

“Or maybe you could start pulling your weight.” You jabbed him in his chest. He glanced down at your finger, his eyebrow arched as he looked back at you.

“Pulling my weight?”

“Yes.”

“Exactly how?”

“I dunno…how about you start performing those little real life tasks that normal people do Ransom? You know, the laundry, cleaning the bathroom, loading the dishwasher, making the bed, cooking breakfast or dinner…”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He scoffed and you groaned “You know I can’t cook.”

“How do you think I learned?” you shook your head, before rubbing at your temple. “I practiced.”

“Yeah, not gonna happen Princess.”

“What a surprise” you shrugged “God forbid Hugh Ransom Drysdale get his hands dirty.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.” He snapped and you snorted. Of all the names you called him, it was his actual name that riled him so much. It was ridiculous, but also too good an opportunity to pass up. He was an asshole at times, and you took none of his shit. You never had done, not since that fateful day you met in that lecture hall at Harvard some 10 years or so ago. Truth be told, he’d often admitted it was the fact you gave him nothing but shit, called him out and basically ignored him for 6 months, despite the fact that you desperately wanted him to do very rude things to you. Your ambivalence provided him with a challenge and he pursued you with a dogged determination which you eventually gave in to towards the end of your first year of Study.

“Why not?” you shrugged, deciding to poke the bear a little more because, well, you could…that and you kind of enjoyed watching that vein pop in his neck when he was pissed “Isn’t that what the help call you? I mean I might as well be your help all things considered.”

“You’re my fucking wife.” Ransom spoke through grit teeth, his jaw set, neck strained (ah, there was that vein!)

“Well here’s a novel idea.” You smiled up at him “Why don’t you start acting like I am instead of some glorified housekeeper that you fuck and keep in your bed.”

“Ok, I’m gonna let that slide due to hormones.” Ransom’s hands fell to his hips.

“You’re gonna let it slide?” you scoffed

“Yes.”

“Whatever.” You took a deep breath “Now get out I need a shower.”

“So….just so we’re on the same page, you don’t want me to-“

“NO RANSOM!” you growled, shoving his chest. He sniggered, stepped back with his hands up, palms open as he backed out of the door, closing it behind him.

*****

Ransom could hear Y/N’s voice as it drifted softly through the closed door of the study into the hallway and he rolled his eyes. Her boss was a jerk, making her call in at midday on a fucking weekend, all because he was too incompetent to cope himself. She should be curled up on the sofa, watching junk, eating crap, wearing nothing but one of his sweaters. She’d been looking for her favourite one before, cursing when she’d realised it was in the laundry hamper and mumbling about how she’d pop it into the machine later.

“How about you start performing those little real life tasks that normal people do Ransom? You know, do the laundry…”

Ransom paused by the stairs, before he smirked a little. “Oh you’re gonna eat your words, Princess.” He mumbled, before he bolted upstairs and into their bedroom, through to the en-suite. Tipping the hamper up on its side he looked down at the pile of clothes and frowned. Y/N normally sorted them into separate piles, but he wasn’t sure how…or why now he thought about it.

Fuck it, there was nothing google couldn’t solve.

He soon found out, thank you Housewives Online, that they needed to be sorted according to colours. Whites, brights and darks. So, as his sweater was blue it could go in the colours pile. He nudged the other two piles to the side of the room with his foot before he gathered the one he wanted in his arms, wrinkling his nose at the fact he actually had dirty clothes in his hands and made his way downstairs. He wandered through the kitchen and into the utility room at the back, before he stuffed the items into the machine and then looked around for the detergent. He found it on a shelf over the back of the room along with the fabric softener. Grabbing them both he then paused as he realised he didn’t actually know where it went.

Okay, so this had to be a process of elimination. He pulled open the little drawer on the front and smirked as he noticed the sections were labelled.

“Piece of cake.” He poured in what he deemed enough of each and then shut it, before he looked at the digital dials on the front.

“For fucks sake…” he grumbled, punching a few buttons. Eventually the display kicked in, offering him a one hour-thirty hot wash.

“Well, who washes clothes in cold water?” he shrugged, pressing the green button. As he stood back the machine kicked into life and Ransom nodded, congratulating himself, before he decided he’d earned himself a beer.

****

“Son of a…” you heard the curse as you opened the door to the study and frowned. Whilst your call had lasted a little longer than it should have, surely Ransom couldn’t have gotten himself into that much trouble in the space of two hours. You followed his string of expletives down the hall, through the kitchen and into the laundry room to find Ransom holding what looked like a smaller version of his sweater in his hands.

“What are you doing?” you frowned.

“Singing a duet with Beyonce, what does it look like I’m doing?” he snapped.

“It looks like you’re doing laundry.” You ignored his shitty comment and arched an eyebrow, one hand falling to your small bump.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Where did you get that little…” you trailed off as you realised that it wasn’t a smaller version of his gorgeous navy blue, soft woolly number in his hands, it WAS his gorgeous navy blue, soft woolly number “You shrunk your sweater?” He glared at you as you started to laugh “Oh my god, you dumbass!”

“It wasn’t me it was that fucking shitty machine.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the machine.”

“Well why did it shrink then?”

“What programme did you put it on?”

“Programme?” he frowned “I just turned it on.”

With a sigh you rubbed at your temple “There are different settings depending on what you’re washing.” You stated “That’s wool. It should have been on a cool cycle.”

Ransom looked at the item in his hand and you watched as his shoulders sagged a little. “I wanted it to be nice and clean for you to wear later.” He sighed as he peeked up at you, a strand of hair falling over to his brow. Your heart instantly melted, little gestures like this from him meant the world as it was his way of showing he cared. He could buy you all the expensive shit in the world but these were the little things you craved.

“Oh baby!” you chuckled as you stepped forward, leaning up to kiss his cheeks. “It was a nice thought…” you took the sweater off him and looked at it “But even I don’t think I’ll fit into that. It’s tiny.”

Ransom looked at it before his face suddenly curled into a smile “Baby boy tiny?”

You let out a laugh “Maybe not baby boy tiny, but little child boy tiny, sure.”

“We’ll save it for him then.” He said, tossing it down into the basket of wet items that needed to be dried. “His first hand-me-down.”

You smiled as his hands dropped to your hips and pulled you closer. “You’re a big softy really, aint you?” you reached up to brush that stubborn strand of hair back of his forehead and he shrugged before he grinned, rocking his pelvis forward.

“I won’t be soft for long.” His head dropped and he nipped at your ear “Let me show you what Husband chore  I’m actually good at.”

[navybrat817]

Navy, I know you're got your own stresses and worries in life. But can I just vent to you for a bit? Feel free to ignore this if you don't have the mental capacity for it.

Okay so, I'm pregnant, working WFH, so I watch my smallest one all day, she's sweet but clingy and quick to emotions, which is normal to me for a 3 yr old. But also on top of all of this, we are dealing with getting my hubs from residency to citizenship. Also we got a pre-approval letter, so now we're house hunting. My hub is here but works good 12 hours basically Monday to Saturday. He bought a truck, which needs work so he's been working on it in majority of his free time. So that it's ready for vacation next year, no more travel in a cramped car. I've been somehow balancing all of this decently, like nothing is failing apart for now. But I usually get like a good 6 hours of sleep, but my sweet 3 yr old is now hitting a sleep regression. Tantrums for naps and going to bed, waking up multiple times a night. And I just feel like this is my snapping point.

I'm doing the chores, working and taking care of a tot at the same time, I have not been cooking very much because I've been to sensitive to smells lately. I do the laundry, dishes, vacuum, bedding, and pickup/organizing. Plus I'm doing all the citizenship and looking up homes to talk to our real estate agent.

Then my hubs tired to be like, hey go to bed early so we can get busy. He's very flirty, all the time, gropey too hah. Like if I wasn't so tired and stressed, I'd happily do that. But I just snapped and told him to help or go to bed. And since he has to wake at 5AM he went to bed. Then my 3 yr was refusing to eat, because she knows one she's ate and had her vitamins it's bedtime. Then she had a melt down after I finally got her tucked into bed. And I just fully snapped, yelled, left her room, and curled up in the living room and cried. She kept calling for me but I just told her to go to bed because there was no way I was going to near her while shaking with anger. I eventually calmed down and went into cuddle her and apologize. While I was still crying, so she patted my back ask, you okay? And it just broke me more while I cried and laughed a bit while holding her.

Plus my oldest, who turns 6 this Sunday. Has been invited to a birthday every single weekend for the past 4 weeks. She's only gone to one, because we usually have our weekends planned out well in advance as it's like our only true family time. So she's been mad me and is even more mad she's got going to one this weekend. But like child, it's your birthday weekend, we already made plans.

This momma is going crazy and I just need something to stop. If you read this, thank you. This turned out way longer than I meant, sorry.

-🐛

Oh, my lovely 🐛. You're always free to vent. Congrats on the pre-approval! We're in the process of buying a house (have a ton of paperwork to get together this weekend!) and I'm sending all the good vibes.

Sleep regression is exhausting for all parties involved and I hope this phase doesn't last long! And I'm sorry your oldest is upset. I know she'll bounce back, but it hurts now and I'm sending hugs.

I have to ask. You mentioned you are WFH and your hubby is working long hours, but has he offered to help balance part of the load? If I read correctly, you're taking care of the majority of the house chores and looking after your kids. You're pregnant. I hope he understands what a toll the stress can take on you physically, mentally and emotionally. Especially when he's trying to get some when you've made it clear that you're tired.

I also don't blame you for breaking down! Your younger daughter seems very empathetic and I'm glad you got some cuddles in even as you cried.

I hope you also get some you time. I've been struggling with this, so I truly feel for you.

Remember, my asks are open if you need anything. Please take care, kick your feet up and I hope you get a moment of peace. Love and thank you. ❤️

[malfoyfarms]

Let the Adventure Begin

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

T/W: soft jj

A/N: idk what it is but the idea of JJ calling the reader Bird, or using bird names makes me happy. Also, I really want to make this into a series of blurbs with different situations. Goodnight. 

It was rounding 1 am when you finally managed to finish your night. You had picked your little sisters up from your aunts, made them dinner, got them both bathed, reluctantly coaxed them into bed and put the last load of laundry in the dryer. 

The kitchen was a mess, the pots from dinner were still on the stove, the girls’ bowls and utensils were scattered on the table with the occasional piece of fruit or mac n’ cheese. You hadn’t eaten yet tonight, but you would eventually. While making a cup of tea you thought about how you ended up here. 

Of course you were thrilled when your mom had given birth to two carbon copies of yourself, not imagining at 17 you would be one of the main providers for them. Nola was 6 and laid back, while Luanna was 4 and a straight hellion. Tonight she had insisted on only taking a bath in the kitchen sink, which you were fine with considering she was actually keen on getting clean tonight. 

The laundry was sorted and folded, dishes cleaned and put away, and you yourself had just made a sandwich when you heard a knock on the door. Making the way to the front, you expected to see a disappointing form of your mother, but instead you saw JJ. A smile appeared on your face as you opened the door for him to come in. Usually you didn’t like having guests over when you had the girls, but they were asleep and you could use some actual conversation. 

He kissed the top of your head, and made his way to your “bedroom” that you took once the girls came along. It used to be a small office area, but it worked. 

“Bird, you got any left over dinner?” he asked, taking his shirt and shorts off. You handed him the last of your sandwich which he took gladly. You chuckled at him as he made himself comfortable in your bed. JJ was not a shy boy, but it never failed to amaze you at how long it had taken to get him to just waltz in. 

“No chateau tonight?” 

“Nah, Sarah was over, and after the second round of ‘John B!’ I figured I’d come to see what you were up to.” You pulled your hair out of the bun it was in, and moved into JJ’s side. 

“You surprisingly smell good,” you mumbled into his skin. He fake gasped at your comment, letting out a small laugh. 

He rolled over to look into your eyes, and could see the exhaustion. It was nearing 2:15, and he knew Nola and Lulu would be up by 7:30. JJ pulled you close and ran his thumb over your eyebrow, trying to give you some comfort. He knew you worked hard, and wanted to give you as much relaxation as he could. Your eyes slowly started to droop once he successfully maneuvered his fingers in the pattern you would usually do on him. Once JJ could confidently say you were asleep, he pulled the quilt over the two of you and went to bed. 

                                                            ~

JJ woke up to something heavy laying atop his chest. His eyes slowly opened to greet not one, but three mops of y/h/c. As he focused his eyes and became more aware, he realised Lulu had found comfort in sleeping on his chest. Her tiny fingers were holding on to a shark stuffed animal. Nola had wiggled in between himself and your body, still completely asleep. 

He had met your sisters a couple of times, but he never thought he’d find himself waking up to them. A feeling in his chest was swelling. It was at this moment JJ knew he wanted to wake up everyday like this. Something about the thought of you having his kids, and them crawling into bed with him made him elated. 

Lulu had now started to stir from her sleep, looking up to JJ with big y/e/c eyes. She reached for his hand to play with his fingers, something she normally did to you when she was ready for you to wake up. JJ let her play with his fingers for some time until she worked up the courage to ask him for breakfast. Lulu pulled her shark and her sister off the bed, ready to see if JJ would cave and give her sugar for breakfast.

“Alright ducklings, what do we want for breakfast?” he asked, searching through the cupboards.

“ICE CREAM!”

“No,” he quickly responded, shooting down the crazy 4 year old with a smile. “If you eat some oatmeal for me, maybe I can convince Sissy to take us for ice cream later.”

“Give me the oats,” Lulu responded. He turned to Nola to make sure the deal was alright with her, and she quietly nodded, shying into her stuffed animal. 

When you finally awoke, you were shocked to see an empty bed and no monsters in sight. The confusion was slowly replaced with fear as you heard large amounts of laughter from the kitchen. You cautiously made your way there, preparing yourself for the worst possible outcome. 

What you saw instantly made your heart explode. Nola and Lulu were on the couch eating and watching Pocahontas, while JJ was giving a performance to Colors of the Wind. 

“Sissy look at our new Pocahontas!” Nola yelled when she realized you were watching from a distance. JJ’s cheeks instantly became red as he sang out his final line of the song. You took a seat next to Nola as you watched both your boyfriend and Pocahontas deal with the issues of John Smith. 

It didn’t take long for the girls to get bored with TV and head outside after giving you the empty oatmeal bowls.

“Thank you for getting them breakfast while I slept. I really appreciate it,” you told JJ as you rinsed the dishes. He came over to you and placed a quick kiss on your lips and sat his head on yours. 

“Anytime, you need sleep.”

“I want to have your children,” you muttered quietly, catching JJ off guard. “Not soon, but eventually.”

The smile that fell on JJ’s lips was so wide you were sure it hurt him. He looked like he was going to cry.

“I would love that more than anything in the world.” 

“Also, if you’re okay with it, I think it’d be nice for the girls if you came around some more,” you said shyly, hoping he didn’t shoot it down completely. 

“I’d love to spend more time with my three girls.” This made your heart swell. You never really brought people around your sisters due to the fact that you didn’t want them to get attached, especially if they left. Not all things were permanent in the Cut, but for them you wanted to sure as hell try. “Also I think the little monster may have taken a liking to my bargaining style.” 

“What did she con you into this time?” you sighed. “Ice cream? Violence? Raiding the cookie jar at my aunts?” 

“Ice cream,” he paused, little caught off guard at the violence. JJ’s thoughts were interrupted when the two wandered back inside.

“Sissy, can you go talk to Benjy’s mom? He was calling us names, so Lulu threw a rock at him and it hit him in the head,” Nola asked.

“Let the adventure begin,” JJ muttered as he placed his hand on your back, and  the two of you went to work out the situation at hand with the neighbors.

[fatwheeliebabe]

A Day In The Life Of A Cripple

Here’s some things people don’t tell you about certain disabilities.  Some disabled people require caretakers. You probably know that. You probably imagine people who are completely, or partially, paralyzed who cannot physically do things for themselves.  The reality is a lot of us with caregivers/personal care assistants, are ambulatory to some degree.  I have a caregiver because I physically cannot complete most of [pretty much any] my activities of daily living [ADLs].  My caregiver is there to do them for me. They do the cooking, the cleaning of the house, the washing of the laundry... But they do other things as well.  My personal caregiver takes care of my toileting, and hygiene. Which means, yes, they wipe my ass, and help me shower. They help me dress. I have severely limited mobility, and my capacity to stand is about 2 minutes long. They take care of that stuff for me, and because of that... there is A LOT that goes into us getting ready for the day, especially if we’re going somewhere.  1. We have to get up, use the bathroom. Caregiver has to help take care of my hygiene.

2. We then have to get my meds organized and taken. This means taking 9 pills, an insulin shot, and attaching an insulin pump. 

3. We have to get me dressed, that includes socks and shoes which is five steps in its own [Undergarments, shirt, pants, socks, shoes.]

4. We then have to prepare for going out. This means gathering all of the things we’ll need. The list of things we’ll need is going to be listed next

4a. THINGS WE NEED: 1.Diaper bag. The diaper bag contains my Epipen, gloves, wipes, sometimes snacks, always Aleve, always glasses cleaning wipes, water to stay hydrated, ginger ale and peppermints in case my blood sugar drops. My Personal Bag. My personal bag contains things that I need in immediate reach. Allergy meds, inhaler, inhaler spacer, replacement insulin pump, blood glucose test strips, a lancet, alcohol wipes, vial of insulin, syringe, lip balm, my wallet, my anxiety meds, snacks, hand sanitizer, cracker/snack packs.  My wheelchair, and cane [for transfers in and out of the car] My Mask. [I’ve been wearing a mask since 2019 because my allergies are so easily triggered, and I have reactive airway disorder. I’ll be wearing a mask for the rest of my life.] My PDM, and CGM reader. My PDM is what dispenses my insulin when I eat, and my CGM is my constant glucose monitor, so the reader is there in case the app on my phone malfunctions or I need to test with blood.  The things my PCA needs for themselves.  Car keys, their wallet, their mask, any meds they’ll need, a water bottle for them. 5. We have to navigate getting out of our building. For us, this means getting me out of the apartment and into the elevator, to bring me down to the lobby where I will wait for my caregiver to go get the car because the parking garage for our building is not wheelchair accessible, so I have to be loaded into the car up front our building. This means that I have to get into the car, and my caregiver has to load my manual wheelchair into the trunk/hatch space of our car. My manual chair weighs 60lbs, but it’s the one we HAVE to travel with because my power chair weighs 190lbs. 6. We have to make sure that where we’re going is wheelchair accessible. If it’s fully accessible, we’re good. [This usually only pertains to doctor’s offices, grocery stores, and some restaurants.] If it’s not, we have to figure out how to either get me inside, or how my caregiver is going to navigate me once we’re inside. I cannot self-propel, my caregiver is the one who maneuvers my wheelchair for me.  7. We have to know where the most accessible bathroom is. Normally this is the single stall family bathroom.  8. We have to [often] leave me in the one accessible area of a shop because the displays are too narrow for me to fit. Alternatively, if we’re at a store that has a mobility wagon, we have to give up cart space to my diaper bag, and my personal bag. Also, yes, it’s really a diaper bag. We bought it in the baby section. Because it has more pockets for storage, and is more durable.  9. We have to deal with jackasses parking in accessible spots without placards, or plates, or parking in the accessible bay therefore making the accessible spot useless for its purpose. We also have to deal with assholes who won’t get the fuck out of the way when they see us trying to move around/past them. People who will purposely cut in front of us while we’re shopping because I’m just a fucking object to them.  Idk there’s probably some other shit but this is the very basic rundown of what a day out looks like for us. 

[keelywolfe]

FIC: The Rose and the Thorn: Chapter 18 (Mafia AU)

Summary: Rus makes a decision.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Cherryberry, Mafia AU, Flower Shop AU, Violence, First Meetings

Warning:  Heads up, let me add a warning here for attempted sexual assault and violence.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17

~*~~

Read Chapter 18 on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Lilies were lovely flowers, and it was a damn shame that Humans seemed to only associate them with funerals and Easter. They made for a beautiful focal point in a bouquet, large waxy petals in a bright array of colors surrounding the dark stamen, dozens of them spilling out and around a vase or basket, brilliant shades complimented by a delicate frame of leafy greens.

So many gorgeous colors available and Blue grew many of them, but the lilies Rus was working with were white, only a hint of creamy yellow at their centers. They smelled nearly as beautiful as the crimson roses that joined them, each delicate bloom nestled into its cushioning bed of neighboring white.

(A single red rose, please)

Only Rus’s fingers were stained with redness, not from those velvety petals but from the thorns, the dark crimson of his own marrow spotting the lilies, smearing bloody across those pale petals and he couldn’t stop even as they began to wither under his touch, white petals spotted in redness curling up and dying, and—

Rus woke with a gasp, the cold sweat on his bones chilling him as the dream of withered petals slowly faded. He sank back against the mattress and ran a trembling hand over his face, grimacing at the dampness.

Next to him, his brother slept on obliviously, his smaller frame buried deeply in the luxurious comforter on their borrowed bed. The bathroom light was on, seeping out to cast the room in shadows and even in the dimness, Blue’s much-loved face was lined with obvious exhaustion. The crow’s wing of a bruise running down his cheekbone wasn’t quite hidden into the pillow, stark against pale bone.

Thoughtlessly, Rus reached out with the vague idea to heal it and hesitated with his fingers still inches from that bruise. Tired as Blue was, he sure as hell wouldn’t be able to sleep through any sort of magic being used on him. Better to let him rest and take care of it when he woke up, and if looking at it made his gorge rise with swelling guilt, then Rus only had himself to blame. This all might have started with him getting dragged in, but things had changed since that day in the shop when he had hidden behind the counter in a stranger’s arms.

That day was over and a new one was dawning, one where Rus complicit, for not listening to his brother’s warnings, for not keeping his distance, for letting his desire for Edge overrule his rather uncommon sense.

No, that wasn’t entirely true, at least one other person was at fault here, the one who’d caused that bruise. He wasn’t sure he believed Blue that their so-called host wasn’t to blame; even if he hadn’t struck the blow, he’d obviously failed to protect them as promised. Broken promises tended to multiply, that was a hard lesson Rus learned while they were still Underground.

Well, he certainly wasn’t lost in a metal fog any longer. He felt as if he were waking up from more than an unpleasant dream. His pleasure-tinted memories of last night in Edge’s bed had lost their luster the moment he got a good look at his brother’s bruised face and cold reality settled in its place, sinking down into the pit of his soul like cold water sinking to the ocean floor.

Somehow, he’d been slowly starting to forget the truth; that he and Blue were here unwillingly, staying only for protection against revenge that hadn’t been theirs to begin with. They were very bad men, Edge warned Rus of that from the very beginning, and Edge was still planning on dealing with Blaze however he would; someone would likely be dead and dust by the end, and Rus couldn’t allow himself to forget that, if only to ensure that neither he nor his brother were part of it.

Rus wrapped his arms around his legs, settling his chin on his updrawn knees. Where the hell did he think this was all going to go, anyway? When everything was said and done, and Blaze was dealt with, where did he fit in a place like this? He didn’t, that was how, did he really think he’d be able to finish up his shift at the shop making bouquets and then come back here to pretend he didn’t know what was happening around him, both inside and out of these walls. Even if Edge wanted him for longer than a few nights, Rus couldn’t do that. He couldn’t.

His brother’s comment about getting paid well might have been cruel, but it wasn’t entirely untrue. Only it didn’t seem to be dollars that Rus was bartering with, but instead his own soul.

No. He couldn’t let that happen, not to Blue. His brother worked so hard for everything they had ever since their pop left. He wasn’t going to throw it away, not for a few minutes of pleasure, he couldn’t.

This would end eventually; they would go back to their home and their flower shop and leave all this madness behind, and though it made a fresh lump rise in his throat to think of it, Rus decided that he would tell all of this to Edge today. Whether it ended in pleading or demands didn’t matter, he was going to end whatever this was, could it even be called a relationship? All Edge knew about him was what he’d seen through a window. It was time to set aside this ridiculous fantasy, if not for himself then for his brother’s sake.

The sheets were still clinging to him clammily, sweat from his nightmare drying uncomfortably on his bones. Rus slipped carefully from the bed, snatching up his phone and using the flashlight to help him pick out fresh clothes from the closet.

It was still relatively early, only barely past six am, no wonder Blue was still sleeping. Normally, Rus would be as well, it was another hour before his time to groaningly drag himself out of bed and down to the shop for his daily shift. As tired as he was, the idea of crawling back in to lay on the damp sheets didn’t appeal much.

Instead, he went into the bathroom to change, this time in a pair of loose, flowing trousers with an oversized sweater layered over a plain button-up. It was a heck of a lot closer to something he’d find in his own closet, even if he could tell by the feel of the fabric that it was from some pricy department store and not the local thrift shop. He wondered idly if someone had actually gone shopping for these new clothes or if they’d simply ordered in like Chinese takeout. He had kind of a hard time picturing a delivery boy turning up at the back entrance of the club loaded down with bags of clothes instead of egg rolls. Whoever brought ‘em, he was reluctantly grateful for the quantity even as he shrank away at the thought of how long they might be intended to be there, and how could he stay away from Edge living directly down the hallway from him, how could he…?

Rus resolutely pushed that thought aside, splashing cool water on his face and patting it dry. It was a good thing their closet was filled, he told himself, ‘cause the clothes he’d worn yesterday were downstairs in the stripper’s dressing room, probably never to be seen again.

That thought made him cast a guilty look at the clothes he’d worn up here, the ones loaned to him by Mona for her brief tutorial on dancing. They were lying in a careless pile leftover from last night’s shower and he bit the tip of his tongue worriedly. Maybe Mona would need them back, someone had to. He could ask the Dogs to bring them to her with a note of thanks…or he could take them himself and let her know that he was all right.

Plus, it’d be a chance to give her some proper gratitude for trying to help out. Sure, it hadn’t worked out the way he’d hoped, really not, but that wasn’t her fault, and she didn’t have the first idea how the story ended last night. Seemed like she should at least get to know Rus probably wasn’t gonna end up with cement shoes or anything, but this time, if he was going downstairs, he’d do it properly and walk.

Decision made, Rus gathered up the clothes, folding them into a tidy bundle. They were rumpled and stank richly of sweat and sex. He blushed to think of returning them that way, but he couldn’t lie, it felt less embarrassing to bring them back to Mona than to leave it for the Dogs to find on laundry day. Worst that could happen with her was it would confirm some suspicions she already had.

He carried the bundle out of the bathroom with him, hesitating as he glanced at the bed and the lump in the covers that was his sleeping brother. This time there wouldn’t be any slipping off without a word, no more secrets, not if he could help it. He paused at the little table by the door to write his brother a note, his scribbly handwriting stating clearly that he was returning something downstairs and he’d be back soon.

That was one thing done right, at least.

That done, he slipped out the door to the hallway, closing the door hastily before the light could wake his brother. As expected, there was a Dog standing guard outside and it turned to him questioningly, its headed tilting to one side.

“excuse me, can you take me downstairs to speak with the ladies?” Rus said. Firm yet polite seemed like the best route and he held up the bundle in his arms. “i have some stuff to take back to them.” He really hoped they didn’t offer to just take it for him and not just because there was no way a Dog wouldn’t pick up on the reek. He was gonna talk to Mona one way or another, flimsy excuse or not.

The Dog said nothing, and Rus still wasn’t quite sure if that was a choice, an order, or simply a physical impossibility. It seemed to consider, then pulled out a cell phone, unhindered by its paws as it briskly tapped out a message. Whatever reply they received, they nodded and led the way down the hall to the elevator, the same one Edge brought him upstairs in, hey, he was starting to get the hang of this place.

Once the doors open again, Rus took the lead, heading to the dressing room from last night. The Dog waited at the entrance as he slipped inside, clothes in hand.

It was mostly empty now, none of the bustling and hurried dressing of the night before. The only stripper in the room was the Cat Monster…Lilith, that was her name, and her clothing was a stark contrast to their first meeting. Her revealing slip of a dress was exchanged for simple jeans and a t-shirt with ‘Bad Girl’ written in sparkly letters across the chest. She was tying the laces on her sneakers, glancing up and then again in a doubletake as she caught sight of him.

She gave him a sultry smile, pink tongue curling over her lips. “Well, hey there, sugar skull, stopping in for another visit or are you hiding out again?”

“no, um,” Rus said, awkwardly. He held up the bundle. “mona loaned me some clothes, i was just bringing them back.”

“Oh, is that all?” she yawned, showing sharp teeth, “Night shift is over, hun, Mona’s gone for the day.” She tilted her head in the direction of a large bin that was already overflowing with clothes, bra straps and stockings hanging over the sides. “You can toss it in the pile, they’ll get take care of.”

Rus wavered, torn, then decided he didn’t need to keep them as an excuse to visit with Mona. A lack of one hadn’t stopped him yet. He tossed the bundle in the pile and started back out to the hallway, then hesitated to ask, “do you know when mona will be back?”

Maybe if she worked tonight, he could slip down to see her before she started for the night.

“Sorry, hun, schedules change. If you want to wait, I can check after I get a smoke. I’m dying for a cig.” She held up a pack of cigarettes and against his will, his gaze strayed to it longingly. He hadn’t had one in days now and his nicotine craving lifted its ugly, eager head, starting a painful itch in his marrow. Damn, he hadn’t even checked his backpack when the Dog gave it to him and didn’t remember if he had a pack of smokes in it. He sure wasn’t about to ask Edge or, angel forbid, Red for one. It might be days yet before he got out to buy a pack himself.

Lilith gave him a knowing look. “Want one, sweetheart? You got that kind of look.”

The sudden flood of saliva in his mouth was embarrassing, but eh, the rules were a little different for smokers, nothing wrong with bumming the occasional cigarette so long as it didn’t become another habit, a worse one than smoking itself.

“i…yes,” Rus said gratefully, “if you don’t mind?”

“Nah, c’mon, I can share.”

She turned and walked towards the back of the room, her slender tail curling around her feet and Rus followed her to heavy door with a bright ‘Exit’ sign gleaming over it in neon red.

“I’d get a smack on the hand if they caught me sneaking out this way,” Lilith confided. Her whiskers quivered as she wrinkled her little muzzle. “But I can’t stand walking all the way ‘round for a quick smoke. I get enough exercise on the pole, you know?”

He didn’t, but he could certainly guess. He followed Lilith outside into an alleyway lined with trash cans, the sky overhead tinged grey with the coming dawn. She shook out one for herself and lit it before handed over the pack, and the first hit of nicotine melded into his magic with deep, mellow relief. Talking didn’t seem necessary, Lilith only played on her phone while both of them smoked silently through their cigarettes and when Lilith was done, she tossed her butt to pavement already littered with dozens more and shook out another before handing the pack back to him.

“May as well have another, honey,” she said, and he really shouldn’t, he had enough debt as it was, and what was that look she was giving him, something like regret…?

There was a sudden stinging at the back of his neck, coupled with hot breath, whispering low in flame-speak. “Yes, do have another. It might well be your last.”

The still smoldering butt fell from his nerveless fingers, falling into a puddle with a hiss, the dizziness already swarming over him distancing him from both his senses and his magic. He whirled clumsily around to see a fire Monster standing behind him, as tall as he was and nearly as broad as Red. The hectic flutter of his purplish flames cast the alley in disturbing shadows, devils dancing to their deaths in the slowly growing sunlight.

Blaze.

Rus took a stumbling step back, fumbling at the door, but there was no handle on the outside, only smooth metal. He looked at Lilith disbelievingly, slurring out, “wha…why?”

Tears were streaming down her pretty face, soaking into the short fur. “I’m sorry, honey, I’m so sorry. He was offering money, so much money, you don’t understand what it’s like here—”

He didn’t hear whatever else she said as he was suddenly seized, pushed back against the rough bricks of the alley wall. Those deep purple flames managed to be somehow both dark and blinding, Rus squinting against that painful light, cringing away.

“don’t—” Rus stuttered out. But his hands were disobedient and strengthless, pushing helplessly against Blaze’s shirt as he stepped closer, his surprisingly heavy body pinning him against the wall. His face was too close, burning fingers painfully pinching his chin and forced Rus to lift his head, the smoky ash of his breath gusting over Rus’s face.

“Perhaps I judged too quickly on Edge’s tastes. You are rather a pretty thing, after all.”

Rus cried out, the sound muffled, choking as his mouth was taken in a rough kiss, the pained heat of flaming tongue forcing its way between his teeth. He didn’t think, could hardly manage a single idea past no. He bit down automatically, choking again as his mouth filled with bitterness reminiscent of gasoline.

He nearly fell as he was released, gasping for breath, and he only barely managed to open his sockets enough to see the blow before it struck, his vision exploding into whiteness as Blaze backhanded him and sent him to his knees amidst the filthy puddles and the rotting old cigarette butts.

Dazed, he could only watch as Lilith grabbed hold of Blaze’s arm as it rose again. “Stop it! You said you wouldn’t hurt him!”

“So I did,” Blaze said, and someone Rus couldn’t see was translating in a gleeful drawl, “You should have secured the same promise for yourself.”

A deafening sound rang through the alley and Rus stared dumbly as a bright blossom of red appeared on Lilith’s shirt, splatters of crimson stark against her white fur like winter berries in a snow bed. She looked down at herself in confused disbelief, touching that awful wound with trembling fingers and smearing that stain across her shirt as she slowly collapsed to the ground. Filthy water splashed, more redness tainting the puddle in a slowly spreading pool as she stared sightlessly up at the rising sun.

In that moment Rus found his voice, managing to croak out something like a hoarse scream before a rough hand slapped over his mouth, the brutal grip painful on his jaw.

“Come on, put him in the backseat. I’ll see if I can keep our guest entertained for the trip.”

He was dragged over to a waiting car, shoes scraping the pavement uselessly, barely noticing the leather seats beneath him. A door slammed and hot hands hauled him upright until he was sprawled awkwardly across an uncomfortable lap, a scorching mouth licking a painful path up his cervical vertebrae. Fingertips plucked threateningly at his clothes, but didn’t wander beneath them, and that only made Rus shudder helplessly, dizzily nauseous and numbly clouded in rising fear over what was to come.

edge. help me. It was hardly more than a distant, uncertain thought, the words never making it to his slack mouth.

tbc

[emilx311]

Life Update

Hey all, so I pretty much vanished off the internet for the past few months (whoops sorry about that) but things have been crazy irl! Here’s a bit of a summary for those who were wondering what happened to me:

So, for context sake a few fun facts about me. I work as a night auditor at a hotel and have done so since August 2019, I graduated Uni with a degree in Justice Studies in 2018, and I have several minor but chronic health issues that lead to me being very low energy-ie having less spoons than a normal person and needing more sleep.

Aside from the issues already inherent with 2020′s....everything we had several more personal issues at my (I say my because I work there) motel. Mainly around staffing, and especially around night audit staffing.

Since I was hired we’ve gone through 5 or 6 other night auditors (I think? maybe more). And they often.....quit with barely any notice. So, being our only consistent night auditor I’ve been called in last minute several times over the past year leading to 6 or even 7 day weeks. (Not Fun!)

Even when we have had another trained night auditor with us they often also do day shifts since we only need them for 2 nights a week. Turn over for day-shift people has been barely lower than turn over for night shift, which has led to them having to be called in last minute to cover day shifts when people left which means I also had to be called in last minute to cover the night shifts they were no longer able to do, leading to us all working 6 or even 7 day weeks (Super Not Fun!)

In summary: I’ve worked more overtime days than I have had vacation days in this last year. Heck, the last time I tried to go on vacation for like 5 days I got called in every other day and my boss (our regional manager) paid me double for the shifts I worked and refused to touch my vacation pay because even he acknowledged that was in no way a real vacation at that point (this was at the beginning of September btw...)

This was all compounded when our general manager (gm) left in late July. Her reason for leaving was super fair since she got a better job offer, similar pay to what she was making, less work since she would no longer have to do all the duties our boss should have been doing but was instead pushing off unto her. Super sad to see her go but wished her the best (still miss her) :(

This left our under manager (gsm) and me as the main people in the hotel (ie those who have been there the longest, only the gsm and housekeepers had been there longer than I had at that point-and I had not even reached my 1 year yet). Which, not super great, but the other people we had were okay so we would manage. So the gsm and I held things together and started basically running the hotel (shout out to the gsm here because I love her and she is actually like 5 years younger than me but has accomplished so much more, I am in constant awe of her tbh). Our boss (who is....kind of dumb sometimes) realized this. We became his golden girls (he plays favorites hard).

It is at that point that someone above our boss’s level in the company (he’s in charge locally, but we do belong to a large corporation, ah capitalism) hired disaster #1 as our first new gm. Disaster #1 was creepily cheerful and utterly dismayed to find out his job actually involved him doing work! Like working at the front desk during his shifts and doing manager stuff instead of it just being him sitting in the back looking important and giving us encouragement occasionally. He payed no attention to his training. He did very little of his basic work let alone the manager stuff. He took credit and praised “the team” whenever something went right and pushed blame off him unto everyone else as hard as he could when something went wrong (I once pointed out he forgot to do something and he legit said to me “can you prove it was me?” I said “yes” very firmly.)

Now, as the auditor my job is to spot, point out, and fix errors. He hated coming in to to work after me because I spotted and pointed out everything he missed or did incorrectly. At first just because I happened to notice them. Then it became personal, he cornered me one morning at shift change and told me that he dreaded coming in to work after me because I was always so critical, and he had so much to do during his shifts other than just front desk stuff (he did not, most of the “manager” stuff he was even trained in doing at this point he shoved off unto the gsm) he then disparaged the gsm. I was done, I was pissed (you do not say mean things about my gsm, nope, not okay, I will cut and slab you*) and kind of hurt (why are you taking my corrections as personal attacks? Why are you saying I’m mean for doing my job?) So, if he wanted to make it personal I decided to make it personal and made it my mission to find and point out everything he did wrong, no more overlooking small things as I had been. The pressure of actually having to work made him quit (shocking, not!).

It was also around this time that I signed up for an LSAT prep course. Because I hate myself and now that I’ve been working for a couple years and have some money saved up I want to follow through on my plan to get either a Law Degree or a Masters Degree and so am working on taking the LSAT and applying to law schools. No, studying has not been going well, time and energy have also been preventing that.

Fast forward a couple months and 2 of our best employees went on holiday (one they had scheduled months before). It’s the start of January, they will be gone for two months. In that time our boss had hired our next gm, idiot #2. Just as these two leave the other front desk person we’d been training quits with no notice. We are short staffed....again (yay more 6 and 7 day weeks, ack). To fill in this gap our boss brings in idiot #3 from one of the other 2 hotels in the area our company owns.

Idiot #2 is semi okay, he is not manager material, even months after he was hired to be gm he does not have the training and is basically just a front desk agent. He is bad about doing things himself unless you specifically direct him to with very clear instructions, but he can do the minimum (although he failed the coffee test. After idiot #1 I wrote out very, VERY specific instructions for how to clean our coffee station....he is not able to follow them. The gsm and I joked about the coffee test after I first wrote the instructions, that someone actually failed it....we despair). So, he does not think ahead, do any extra, or solve many problems but at least he rarely creates problems.

This brings us to idiot #3. I do not know what goes on in his head (very little likely) but man oh man. Some examples: the time he-after being asked like 4 times-actually sign off on the checklist after cleaning the laundry room (as everyone is supposed to once a shift) but did so in sharpie instead of one of the many dry-erase markers left around the front desk for no other reason than the clearly laminated sign off sheet. Or the time he decided on his own to give someone a satisfaction refund, far larger than it should have been (which only managers and those with special permission can do in any of the hotels, so he should know better but somehow....)

We have a book for front desk to write messages on about issues for the next people. Usually we have a note or two on any given day. Pretty much every day he worked it was full and even going onto the next page. Idk how, it’s like he touched something and issues sprung up. and Guess who got to be the one to fix all of them (woooo).

For the past few weeks I have had 2 days a week where the only people who worked were me and idiots #2 and #3. It’s been horrible. In addition, my days off were changed for these months so I haven’t been able to meet my one bubble inclusive friend to vent like we usually do once a week, because that time no longer fit in my schedule. I have been living in exhaustive hell for the past couple months, and even before that as I tried to lighten the gsm’s load as much as I could as she took on a lot of the gm stuff. My house is a mess, tbh my life is a mess because work has left me so tired and stressed that I basically get home, shower, collapse onto bed, read a bit, sleep, wake-up, find some sort of food, get ready for work, go to work, and repeat. Even on my days off I’m sleeping 75% of the time and resting to try and shore up my spoons (of which I already have fewer than most people) to get through the work week.

tl;dr Due to ridiculousness I ended up unofficially co-running a hotel and it’s sucked up so much of my energy that all my free time is pretty much spent sleeping just to ensure I’m able to get through my work weeks semi-functionally. Everything about my life has been a mess, to the point where I’m legit not sure how I’ve been keeping myself fed, clean, on meds and just generally....alive.