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#and he also can’t take care of he house
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this FIV+ man needs a home!
hello! this very friendly little stray orange boy in Houston TX needs somewhere to live that is not my house! I’m willing to drive within the texas triangle, or meet someone halfway. He has had some basic vetting.
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why is he in my bathroom and why can’t he stay here?
He is a known community cat that is the bane of my first cat’s existence, and wanted to be friends So Bad I had to put bird spikes up on my windowsills. My two cats are FIV negative, and I can only hold onto him for two more weeks.
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what’s his deal?
He's about two, about ten pounds, and is extremely people social to the point it is genuinely difficult taking pics of him, bc he is convinced both hands should be petting him at all times. You can sling him around with one while he purrs up a storm. I’ve seen him peaceably hanging out with other colony cats outside, so I assume he is cat social with a slow introduction.
He is not thrilled about having his ears touched (he is ear mite free) or having his paws touched, but we are working on desensitization. He is also extremely bad at being restrained for a blood draw at the vet.
what care has he received?
Basic exam
Neuter
Rabies vax
Microchip
Dewormer
Revolution II flea/tick/mite treatment
FeLV/FIV test (negative and a faint positive respectively, he can be retested in six months to see if it was a false positive but should be treated as if he is a positive cat in the meantime)
He’s eating (grain free dry kibble since that’s what my girls are on) and drinking and healing well from his neuter.
He's correctly using the litter box with basic clay litter, he's not spraying in my bathroom or pissing up the sides of the litter box, but he is a very enthusiastic advocate of burying waste as thoroughly as possible.
He will need a dental at some point for some gingivitis, and he will need to get the rest of his vaccinations and have a second round of dewormer (I’ll give it to you) in two weeks.
who else has been contacted?
Over forty local rescues and shelters, who are all at capacity or haven’t responded since I tried to contact them a week ago. I've also been posting on local Facebook FIV+ cat groups.
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steveseddie · 7 hours
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only fair
for the @steddiemicrofic prompt “shower, 399 words” | rated: t | cw: none | tags: pov steve, pre-relationship, eddie munson is a little shit, silly boys
***
Eddie jumps from the Beamer, running towards the Harrington house. “Dibs on the shower!”
“Munson, you fucking-”
Steve groans, hurrying after him. There might be more than one shower at his place but they’re both after the one in Steve’s bathroom— with the bathtub and the superior water pressure.
Steve’s been daydreaming about it since they got in his car, clothes gross and sweaty, and he won’t lose his chance because Eddie is a cheater.
Eddie is also slow, so despite his head start, Steve catches up to him at the door. He might get his shower after all—
Except Eddie decides to cheat again.
He doesn’t trip Steve or elbow him out of the way. No, he starts stripping as he makes his way upstairs, effectively distracting him.
First he loses his jacket and Steve freezes when he realizes what’s happening.
Next is his shirt and that makes Steve trip and hit his knee on the steps.
When he looks up, Eddie is grinning madly at him from the top of the landing, jeans pooled around his ankles. Steve can’t take his eyes off his boxers, missing when Eddie steps out of his pants and throws them at his face.
Sniggering, Eddie runs off again. With a string of curses, Steve follows.
He steps over Eddie’s socks in the hallway, and catches up to him as he’s about to yank the bathroom door open.
Steve doesn’t care about his bath anymore— he could use a cold shower actually. Yet seeing Eddie in his room in just his underwear has him sprinting those last few feet and pinning Eddie against the door.
“Hey!” He protests. “I won! Fair and square!”
Steve splutters. “You call stripping fair?”
Eddie shrugs. “My clothes were slowing me down.”
“Bullshit,” Steve huffs, “you know what you were doing.”
“And what’s that, Stevie?” Eddie wiggles until he can turn around to face him, grinning smugly.
Steve wants to kiss that grin off his face.
He gives Eddie an obvious once-over, thumbs digging into his hip bones. “Distracting me so you’d win.”
“And it worked,” Eddie says, delighted.
“Yeah, you cheater.”
“Maybe we could split the prize,” he suggests, eyelashes fluttering. “Would sharing the shower make you feel better, sweetheart?”
Grinning, Steve pulls the waistband of Eddie’s boxers a little lower. “I think it’s only fair.”
They agree to call it a tie in the end.
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Can you write about a reader who is the most beautiful girl in the village? Donna literally worships her, she has many pictures of her in her house,she is overprotective, literally treats her like a goddess. Every time Donna sees reader she loves to touch her, tell her how much she loves her and how beautiful she is.Reader is also very shy and doesn't talk much, even more than Donna. Can it be smut G!P Donna with reader being super shy and embarrassed? Reader needs aftercare soo much :))
Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!!! :)))))
Your cursed beauty
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader
Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, fluff,
Word count: 7,672
Summary: She's the only one who really loves you...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!
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“So, with the rune in his hand, he made an effort not to use that power again, because the fate of the region was much more important than his selfish desires...” you read out loud as you wrote.
The always reassuring silence of the mansion, the subtle lighting of the place, that peace, that tranquility were your best companions when it came to writing one of your stories. It was a shame that someone had other plans for you.
“Hey! Silly, silly!” a shrill voice pulled you out of the sheet of paper, blurring the image of your characters in your mind. At least you were used to it. “Hey, do you hear me? Hello? Silly?”
“Angie...” you sighed in a low voice, shaking your head as the puppet climbed onto the old desk, taking a not-so-subtle look at the already written sheets. “W-Wait…”
Your whispers weren't going to stop the doll's curious eagerness.
“Keep reading, keep reading, keep reading,” the puppet insisted, pointing at the paper.
“I can't read what isn't written,” you murmured, taking that new page out of the machine, pretending that this intrusion hadn't made you nervous.
“Well, write then,” Angie said, with her hands on her hips.
“I can't if you're here,” you said with a shy tone, afraid that one of your words would offend the doll. It wouldn't be the first time. “Besides, I'm done for today.”
Sometimes you thought Angie only did those things to make you nervous. What nonsense, of course she did it to make you nervous.
“I hope you've accepted my suggestions,” she said in a petulant voice.
You looked at her briefly, shaking your head. Despite your shyness, despite the comfort you felt in not having to speak, you knew it was impossible.
“I can’t put spaceships in it, it’s a fantasy novel,” you said in a soft voice, not looking at the puppet as you did so, an old trick to lose the fear of communicating.
“Bullshit,” Angie protested, in a brusque tone, one that even startled you. “Spaceships are cool.”
“Angie, lasciala stare,” a tender voice appeared to protect you.
Your lips broke into a smile, your cheeks flushed at those melodic words. The sound of the heels matched the beat of your heart and your eyes moved from the desk to contemplate her approaching figure.
Since you were very young, you were blessed with the gift of beauty.
Being beautiful was the dream of many girls, they strived to achieve it. They prayed to achieve it.
You never had to do it, you were born beautiful, according to too many people, you were the most beautiful girl in the village.
It was a proud title, in which you yourself didn’t believe. You never cared. You never looked at yourself the mirror and smiled. You never contemplated that beauty everyone said you had.
The only thing you were proud of was your gift for writing.
Creating a world, characters, play with them, make them live a thousand adventures was truly your passion. Since you were 10 years old you had started with short stories, with tales that you read to your parents. That was a gift for you, not looking in the mirror and knowing that you were beautiful.
Unfortunately, those kinds of talents were not noticed in that village. The Black Gods, Mother Miranda, the Lords... They transformed that place into a gray pit of bitterness, of conformism.
Like those knights in the books, with small brains and big lances, the villagers didn’t see in you an artist, not even a friend, all they could see was your face, your beauty.
A beauty desired by others, an extraordinary gift that was a blessing for those silly girls who dreamed of their prince charming. For you it was not like that, for you that beauty was a curse, an unjust sentence.
You felt the eyes, the glances on you, you heard whispers. You lived with uncomfortable smiles.
Far from considering you a strange girl, your friends seemed to be interested in your talent. That was a good thing, or so you thought. Every day you had several people willing to listen to your stories, to hear a voice that wasn’t yet afraid to come out of your lips.
In your ignorance you believed that those invitations were simply a desire to hear your stories, since it was the favorite excuse of those boys and girls.
You soon discovered you were wrong. You only had to ask, ask what part they liked the most, what they thought of the fate of a character, to realize that they never listened to you, that your stories didn't matter to them.
Nobody cared about your writing, nobody cared about your stories. They only wanted to be close to you to try to make that fairy tale princess fall in love with a brainless knight.
That same attitude, the repetition of that behavior over and over again led you little by little to despair, to not feeling comfortable talking, relating to people.
One day you were beautiful and outgoing, the next one you were beautiful, yes, but shy and lacking in words.
Shyness arrived over time, as a side effect of that curse your beauty was.
“Oh, come on, don't be like that, let me invite you to dinner at least,” he protested, while you walked away, telling yourself that it was over, that no one who didn't want to listen to you would deserve to hear your voice.
“I really want to know the end,” a hoarse voice startled you, getting in your way.
It wasn't a dream, nor a nightmare. One of the village Lords, the youngest, the strangest, Donna Beneviento, appeared in front of you, with her hands in an elegant pose.
It seemed unlikely, even impossible.
But your duty was to obey those authorities, and so you did. The lady in black and you sat on a bench. Silence accompanied the mystery hidden by that black veil. There were no words, only gestures that encouraged you to continue that story.
You would never have imagined that she, that sick, disturbed woman, that doll maker would listen to you. She didn't interrupt. She didn't seem to devour you with her gaze. She just wanted to listen to you.
No one, not even your best friends, had made the slightest effort to let you share your talent with them.
Donna Beneviento did, she listened to you again and again, she asked you questions, she seemed curious about your talent, enthralled by your stories, and not by your beauty.
Well, that would be trivializing it a bit, of course she thought you were beautiful, the most beautiful girl in the village, but that was a very secondary detail.
She was the first, the only one who dared to meet you, who seduced you not only by what you were on the outside, but also by what you were on the inside. The dates on that remote bench were frequent. They were dates that weren’t scheduled; they simply existed, always in the same place, always at the same time.
You found refuge in her presence. Attentive, kind, shy like you... That was the youngest of the Lords.
That was the first time, the first time that a compliment, a flattery, was accompanied by praise for your talent.
Her deformed face forced her to isolate herself from the world. Her different body embarrassed her, almost as much as your beauty did to you. You tow ere so different and so alike…
You had no doubt, you loved her, and she loved you.
Without thinking, you threw yourself into that romance, into her lips, into her kisses, into her hugs. Donna was the only one who treated you the way you deserved, the only one who won your heart.
Living in the old mansion was your next step. You couldn't walk without feeling her lips, her caresses, her words of love. Yes, she was also dazzled by your beauty, she adored you as if you were some kind of Goddess, but you knew she was the only woman you allowed to do it.
Your shy attitude was curious to her. Your talent was fascinating to her. But, Donna... She was much more than that to you, Donna was everything to you.
You could no longer live without her kisses, without her voice, without her caresses... Anything that meant not having her by your side was like a hell for you.
“Hi, tesoro...” the lady sighed, bending down to steal a kiss from you, to cheer your spirit with a tender smile.
You smiled again, embarrassed by the softness of her lips, her words. Your cheeks had become accustomed to blushing in her presence, and your body trembled accepting her caresses.
“Donna,” you said with a soft voice, broken by the shame your body felt when hers surrounded it.
“Are you done for today?” she asked softly, looking at the pile of papers on the desk.
You nodded slowly, lowering your gaze as she looked at you again with that smile, one that didn't seem to want to fade from her face.
“I've finished two chapters,” you said in a whispery voice, trying to make the heat in your cheeks dissipate, something complicated due to her constant caresses.
“Mm, you were inspired,” Donna said, amused, putting her hand on your shoulder and sitting on the desk. “Do you want to read them to me?”
“Oh, um, I…” you said nervously, moving your eyes away from hers. “You, you know it’s embarrassing for me.”
Donna laughed, shaking her head, taking the opportunity to run a hand over your face again, to be captivated by your features. Your cheeks accepted that caress, responding with an increasingly dark red tone.
“You know I love listening to you,” she whispered, moving away so as not to overwhelm you. “Your voice is worthy of the Gods.”
You laughed as you shook your head, giving her a soft slap on the leg.
“Hey, don't say those things to me…” you said in a shy tone, focusing your gaze on the papers, and not on her beautiful, truly beautiful smile. “It makes me nervous.”
“Oh, does it make you nervous when I tell you nice things?” she said in a tender voice, biting her lip. “You're perfect, you know?”
“No, no, I'm not,” you murmured, looking for the chapter you had finished. “If I read you… will you stop talking to me like that?”
“Maybe,” she said, with a mischievous smile.
You indicated for her to sit in a nearby chair, while you cleared your throat.
“Mm, let's see…” you whispered, dying of embarrassment as every time you read out loud, even more knowing that the Angie doll had climbed onto her owner's lap, also willing to listen to your story without spaceships.
Little by little, you related those parts of your novel, which Donna, along with a mysteriously silent Angie, listened attentively.
 “What do you think?” you said, sighing in relief when you finished reading.
The lady in black, with her head resting on one hand, blinked, her smile widening.
“Edgar's story is very tragic,” she commented, with a low voice, moved by the fate of one of your characters.
“Yes, well…” you said, nodding and moving the pages, returning again to your usual shyness. “He can have all the money he wants, but he will never get Regina's love…” you commented.
“Never?” Donna asked, curious about your comment.
You shook your head with a smile.
“Not everyone has to have a happy ending, right?” you said amused.
The lady sighed, getting up from the chair and lowering Angie to the floor.
“I had it,” Donna whispered, helping you get up from the chair with an elegant gesture, placing her hands gently on your waist. “Although I didn't deserve it…”
You enjoyed the contact, the soft hand that placed a lock of hair behind your ear.
“Me neither,” you said in a low voice, intimidated by the intensity of her gaze.
“Nonsense, tesoro, you deserve anything you want,” the lady in black whispered, leaning to your ear and kissing your skin slowly, savoring each of the soft movements of her lips on your neck.
“You’re exaggerating,” you said shyly, laughing nervously at the tickling her kisses did to you.
“Mm,” Donna murmured, sighing and caressing your cheek one last time before slowly pulling away, kissing the back of your hand. “I’m going to go make dinner.”
“Oh, do you need…? Do I help you?” you asked, more confidently.
Donna turned slowly, shaking her head.
“No, tesoro, just rest,” she said softly, walking away from you with her graceful step, the rhythmic sound of her heels clicking on the floor.
You stood still on the floor, but before the doll maker reached the elevator, you walked quickly towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention.
“Donna,” you said with a shy smile, slowly turning her around and capturing her lips in an improvised kiss, one you rarely felt capable of giving.
She smiled into your lips, cupping your face in her hands, caressing your lips slowly, softly, while you leaned, smiling. Your cheeks were burning with shyness, but also, with love.
The kiss deepened, and seemed to never end. Your hands settled on her chest and hers ran seductively along your waist.
“Amore mio…” she sighed, letting her lips go free, kissing every part of your face, releasing the chastity of her hands, which tickled your arms, your neck. “Principessa…”
You resisted nervously, unable to control those kisses that were increasingly unbridled.
Laughing again, shy at her whispers, which only knew how to praise you, to adore you as if you were something precious, fragile, tremendously valuable, you put your hands on her chest, stopping the passion that was increasingly ardent, because otherwise, you would be unable to do it.
“Donna,” you whispered between kisses, gently moving away, causing a tender growl from the lady, who finally agreed to stop kissing you. “I'm… I'm a bit hungry.”
“Oh, certo…” she murmured, kissing you quickly and running her thumb down your cheek while laughing nervously. “I'm sorry.”
“Don't apologize,” you whispered shyly, with a sincere, sweet smile, a smile like you've never had, one in love, truly in love. “I love your kisses…”
“I love you…” the lady whispered, giving you one last kiss before pulling away again.
“Hey, that's enough! Stop, basta, parad!” Angie shrieked, pushing the lady by her legs. “How disgusting…”
“Angie…” Donna sighed, shaking her head.
“Is the blood reaching your head? I doubt it…” the doll mocked, making the lady blush with a serious look.
“Angie, don't be rude,” the doll maker protested, turning around. “I'll see you right away, amore mio…”
“O-Okay,” you said shyly again, laughing at Angie's impudence. “I'm going to take a bath, I need it.”
“Mmmm,” the lady in black protested, turning on her heels and biting her lip. “(Y/N)… You know I love to do it with you.”
You shrugged in amusement, looking at the floor so your embarrassment wasn't so obvious. The characters in your novel weren't afraid of such things but you... Despite having shared everything with Donna, you were still extremely shy when it came to taking off your clothes next to her.
Your life was perfect, really perfect.
“And this... It's for you...” Donna said as she served dinner, handing you a perfect rose, like every night.
“Oh...” you murmured, smelling the intoxicating scent of the flower. “Donna...”
“Mm?”
“It wasn’t necessary” you said with your voice low, soft and shy as usual. She smiled at you, gesturing with the bottle of wine. “Oh, don't pour too much wine, otherwise, my head will hurt.”
The lady laughed, obeying your request and leaving the bottle on the table, waiting, as always, for you to eat first.
“Do you like it?” she asked, unsure, observing your gestures.
“Very much, darling,” you said kindly, earning another radiant smile from the brunette, who, finally making sure that you enjoyed her food, began to eat. “Thank you…”
The glances crossed as always, the smiles danced between them from time to time, the shine of your eyes reflected the dim light of the candles.
Every night, every moment was the most romantic of your life. Of course, you could envy many things from the books: talkative, outgoing, daring characters... But if there was something that those romance stories were not able to convey, it was the love that existed between you and Donna. That was just impossible.
“How...?” you said nervously, interrupting that silent dinner, wishing to be the one to start a conversation for once, something difficult due to so many years of voluntary silence. “Ahem, how about your...? Your... Dolls?”
Donna looked up, knowing that you were interrupting because of your internal struggle to stop being the shy girl you always were.
“My dolls… Well, I guess they are as usual,” she commented, drinking some wine. “They're not very talkative.”
“Hey!” Angie protested, entertained on a nearby sofa.
“Well, not all of them,” Donna joked, lowering her gaze again.
You nodded. Yes, Donna wasn't the most extroverted and talkative woman in the world either, but at least she tried, and with better results than you, of course.
“I, I'd like to learn how to sew,” you murmured, hiding your shyness in a glass of water. Donna smiled, arching her eyebrow.
“Sew?” the lady asked, with a tender voice, unable to hide a bit of curiosity.
“Yes, well… You must be sick of fixing my dresses,” you commented amused, finishing your plate, looking at the sleeves of your dress, always masterfully mended by the brunette.
“Don't talk nonsense, tesoro, I love sewing for you, and making you dresses…” she commented, winking at you. “You have a perfect body for it.”
“Oh, well…” you said nervously again, running a hand over the back of your neck and looking away. “But, I would really like to learn.”
“Okay, dolcezza, I'll be happy to do it,” Donna said in a soft voice, with a slight blush on her cheeks. “Tomorrow when I get back from the meeting we could start, what do you think?”
“Oh, tomorrow…” you sighed, blinking nervously. “I don't know if I can, I had thought that, since you have a meeting, I could take a walk around the grounds, you know, to get inspired.”
Donna stopped eating, with a slightly more serious, darker look. You didn't expect any other reaction.
All the virtues of the lady in black were enough to make you fall in love, but, like everyone, she also had flaws. The worst of them was her subtle possessiveness, her jealousy, the fear of losing you, something that always led her to overprotect you, to put a bubble wrap on you so nothing dared to harm you.
The lady wiped herself with a napkin, drinking some wine before looking at you suspiciously, perhaps searching for the words to dissuade you.
“Mm, you can wait for me so we can go together,” she murmured, searching for the lie, the deception in your gaze, something that made you even more nervous.
“Yeah, but... Well, it's just that I don't know when you're going to come back,” you said with a voice that was getting weaker and weaker, playing with your cutlery so as not to look at that darkened eye. “Last time it got dark.”
“You know you can't go out alone, (Y/N),” she said abruptly, crossing your arms. “If I come back late, we'll go another day.”
“But Donna... I...” you insisted with a broken voice, with the seriousness of her gaze stabbing a dagger into your heart.
“Basta, (Y/N). We've talked about it many times,” she hissed, clenching her fists on the table, without changing that sinister expression. “You can't go out, it's dangerous.”
“You worry too much,” you murmured, frowning and shaking your head. “Nothing will happen to me, it's still your territory.”
“I worry enough, tesoro,” she whispered, crossing her arms. “I don't know what I would do without you.”
“I think you're exaggerating, darling,” you said with a fake smile. “I don't think anything will happen to...”
“You can't go out!” the woman in black shouted, with an angry voice, losing control, something that happened less and less frequently.
“Donna...” you whispered, scared by her abruptness.
 It shouldn't surprise you, but your soul was suffering to see the love of your life losing control.
“I'm sorry,” she said nervously, looking at the table and shaking her head. “I just... I can't imagine that... (Y/N) you, you can fall off the cliff, you can trip and hurt yourself, do you understand? How do you think I would feel if something happened to you?”
You nodded, calmer as you saw the light in that darkness again. It seemed to take a lot of effort, but little by little, she began to control her problems, more or less.
“Um, Donna,” Angie interrupted, dispelling the uncomfortable tension that had formed between you. “Can you stop being too Donna?”
“It's none of your business,” the brunette hissed, her breathing still labored.
“Come on, silly Donna, (Y/N) is not a dog. You can't have her stuck in the house all day long,” the doll said, defending you. You raised your eyebrows but didn't intervene. “She's not stupid, nothing will happen to her.”
“Am I talking to you?” the lady asked, with a dangerous tone, getting nervous again.
“Now you are,” the puppet joked, laughing amused.
“Ugh…” Donna protested, shaking her head and getting up from the table, approaching you.
The brunette bent down, taking your hands, kneeling on the floor with a different expression, a sad, pleading one.
“Amore mio, I'm sorry…” she said in a soft voice. “I shouldn't have yelled at you.”
You nodded slowly, letting her hands caress you with soft, but trembling hands.
“I'm sorry, per favore, perdonami…” she sighed again, burying her head in your lap, soaking your dress with a tear of sadness and regret. “You are the most important thing in my life, my girl… My soul…”
“Donna…” you sighed, caressing her black hair, calming her demons little by little, comforting her in your arms. “My love…”
“If I lost you, I would…” she sobbed again, raising her head to look into your eyes.
“Shh,” you whispered softly, caressing her cheek. “You won't lose me, I promise. I promise I'll be careful of cliffs, ditches, and anything that could hurt me. Nothing will happen to me, darling, trust me.”
“O-Okay,” she said, nodding, getting up from while kissing you slowly, repentant for her irrational anger. “You're right, tesoro.”
You smiled tenderly, ending that argument.
It was funny. When Donna was in trouble, your informal nature, your self-confidence came back to lend a hand to you. Sometimes you wondered what your life would be like if you hadn't given up socializing, if that desire to talk for hours, to say everything you thought, had remained.
“You're welcome, silly...” Angie whispered, while Donna and you looked at each other in love, in silence, with the sweet glow of forgiveness on her face.
You looked amused at the doll and back at its owner, who shook her head, pulling you up from the chair so she could hug you affectionately, lovingly, letting a sigh run through your bodies as you buried your head in her black dress.
“I love you so much...” she whispered, swaying with you. “I have a hard time believing that you're really with me, it's like a dream.”
“Don't say that,” you said shyly again, with the blush on your cheeks confirming that the bad moment was over. “You know I blush easily…”
“Mm,” she murmured, stealing one last kiss from you before slowly pulling away, her gaze fixed on yours. “I like seeing you blush… You're beautiful, you know?”
“Donna,” you said looking away and giving her a playful punch on the shoulder. “Stop it…”
“Okay, okay,” she laughed amused, leaving you some room again and turning towards the table. “I'm going to pick this up, you… Well, why don't you prepare a movie?”
“Oh, I… Okay,” you said, with the blush limiting your words, walking towards the elevator until a tug on your dress stopped you.
“Hey, you, aren't you forgetting something?” Angie said, crossing her arms with a cocky tone and pose.
“Um…” you murmured, frowning, confused and looking for Donna's help. Unfortunately, the lady was busy with the dishes. “N-no, I don't know,” you stammered.
“I helped you, I demand compensation,” the doll told you, determined to not let you go.
“What do you want? you asked nervously, playing with your hands.
“Oh, it’s not complicated, just one word: Spaceships,” Angie said, with an amused tone.
Not knowing if she was joking or on the contrary, she was serious, you rolled your eyes, without answering back, hitting the elevator button.
The next day, that afternoon, you were finally able to go out for some fresh air. The meetings of the Lords were always something annoying for you, something that took Donna away from you but… That day, you really needed that walk.
Unfortunately for you, that silent walk through the forest was not entirely useful. Your head tried to get inspired, but you were unable to do so. Maybe what you needed was a break.
“Okay…” you said, closing the door of the mansion, scared when you felt a tug on your dress. “Oh, no!” you squealed, thinking that maybe someone had grabbed it.
Your face turned red from embarrassment, but not like when Donna whispered in your ear, this time it was because of the terrible ridicule you had before your eyes.
 In your clumsiness, with your mind wandering through imaginary landscapes, you had closed the door too soon, thus trapping the fabric of your dress.
“I don't believe I'm that stupid…” you muttered, pulling hard on the fabric, unable to open the door again. “Shit!” you screamed when, with a disgusting sound, the fabric tore, ruining one of your dresses, one of the ones Donna made for you. “See? That’s why I wanted to learn how to sew…” you hissed, lamenting, kicking the floor nervously.
Furious, angry with yourself for your clumsiness, cursing in ways you only used when you were alone, you went down to the bedroom to change clothes, searching in your head for the best way to ask the doll maker to fix your dress again.
“Great, (Y/N), you’re stupid…” you said to yourself, opening the closet and looking for a nice dress, one to give her a surprise you thought she deserved.
Rummaging through the clothes, something fell to the floor. It looked like a small box, like a jewelry box. You picked it up, unable to resist the temptation to open it.
Maybe there were the Beneviento family jewels. Maybe some ruby, sapphire, or precious stones would serve as inspiration for some weapon in your novel.
“What?” you said surprised when you saw its contents. There were no rings, no necklaces.
Inside that small box were photographs, a few photographs in which you were the main protagonist.
“No…” you sighed, watching yourself walking to the market, reading alone in a corner… It was obvious, although you couldn't believe it. Donna had been spying on you.
Long before she met you, before she dared to talk to you that day, she had been following you, stalking you without you realizing it.
The thoughts became confused in your mind. That idealization of the lady in black, that feeling of thinking that it wasn't your beauty that attracted her in the first place, blurred as you looked at those photographs.
You shook your head, feeling your stomach sink, how everything you thought was clouded in a fog of betrayal, of deceit.
“Everyone is the same… You too,” you said nervously, with a dark hiss, squeezing one of the photos in your hand.
You, who believed that she was the only one who loved you for who you were inside, and not on the outside, saw that, in reality, the brightness of your eyes, your face, your figure, was what attracted her attention, you didn't know how long ago.
“Why, Donna? Fuck... I thought you were different...” you lamented, passing a hand over your forehead.
Disappointment attacked your feelings, but the love you felt for the lady in black was resilient, even with that disappointment, your heart didn't change sides, it was still with her and it always would be.
“(Y/N)?” her soft voice interrupted your laments. The sound of her heels was getting closer. Apparently, that day, the meeting ended early.
A smiling Donna entered the bedroom, ignoring the scene in front of her, grabbing your waist, leaning you in a chivalrous manner and kissing you in a somewhat old-fashioned way, something that, in other circumstances, drove you crazy.
“I've missed you, tesoro…” she whispered with a tender voice, approaching your lips.
You, angry, upset by your discovery, turned your head away, pushing Donna roughly.
“(Y/N), what…?” the lady asked with a frown at your rejection. “What's wrong with you?”
“What's this, Donna?” you asked hissing, showing the lady one of the photographs, one in which you were calmly reading.
“Oh, I…” she said shyly, blinking in embarrassment due to your discovery, with the smile slowly fading from her face. “Well, I…”
“How long have you been doing this?” you asked, putting the embarrassment aside, demanding explanations with an irrational fury.
“I...I...” she stammered, desperate, nervous, shaking her head.
“I...I...” you scoffed unpleasantly. “Fuck, Donna, I thought you were different!”
“What? No, I, I just...” she said, unable to look you in the eyes, terribly embarrassed.
“You just what? Were you spying on me?” you asked, getting a little closer in a threatening way, making her back off. “Answer!”
“It's not that, I...” she said, breathing heavily. “You, you don't understand.”
“No, of course I don't understand...” you hissed, looking at the ceiling. “Do you know why I fell in love with you?”
Donna shook her head, her body shaking, totally humiliated.
“Because you weren't like the rest, because I thought you looked beyond my physical appearance,” you explained, pointing at her with your finger, forcing her to lower her head, to accept your reprimand.
“But, but I...” the lady interrupted, narrowing her eye. “Listen to me, I...”
“No, I don't want to listen to you, Donna,” you said, nullifying any attempt of the brunette to defend herself, to explain herself. You didn't remember having gotten that nervous, ever. “Why were you doing this? Why were you spying on me?”
“Because, because I... I, I love you...” she stammered, with a sad look. “I fell in love with you before I met you and...”
“So that's why you were secretly taking pictures of me, right? That's creepy, Donna,” you snapped, showing the photograph. “I can't believe it. You're just like everyone else…”
“No, you're wrong, I'm not like them,” the lady in black defended herself, with a tear running down her cheek, reaching out her arms to grab yours, something you prevented with an unpleasant gesture.
“You've shown me… I'm just a pretty face to you, aren't I?” you said in an ironic tone. “I always was. If you loved me before you met me it means that the only thing you cared about was my appearance, right? Then fuck you!” you shouted furiously, crumpling the photograph in your hands and letting it fall to the floor.
You were completely unhinged. Not even you could understand the reason for your anger, you simply couldn't.
“No…No, no, no, no,” Donna sobbed, throwing herself to the floor and grabbing the photograph, smoothing it again with trembling hands. “That’s my favorite…” you whispered, holding it tightly against her chest.
“They’re right about you, you’re a sick nutcase,” you hissed without thinking, letting out all that irrational rage.
Donna didn’t respond. She just closed her eye shifting on her stomach with your picture on her chest, crying inconsolably.
A spark of sanity came back to your mind, making you put a hand over your mouth, aware of what you had just said, of the damage you had done to poor Donna just because your beauty made you feel self-conscious, just because that was the reason for your hermetic attitude. You didn't want to be a pretty face, not to her.
“Gods...” you sighed, shaking your head and putting a hand on the shoulder of the lady, who was still crying inconsolably. “Gods, Donna, forgive me, I didn't mean that.”
“I just wanted...” she murmured, her voice broken by sobs. “I wanted to see you all the time... I knew, I knew I could never have you so... I took pictures of you secretly but, but it's not what you think... It's not that... It's not that!”
“Don't you understand how bad makes me feel that you noticed me because of my looks?” you asked in a softer, calmer tone.
“Is that really a bad thing?” the lady asked, putting the photograph back in the box.
You remained thoughtful, stepping back.
“N-No, I don't know,” you murmured unsurely, calming your breathing. “The truth is, I…”
“You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met,” Donna said, putting the box away in the closet, controlling her sobs. “I don't care if you hate me saying it. I'm not going to stop doing it.”
“Donna…” you sighed, relaxing little by little, regretting your attitude.
“Yes, I fell in love with you, always so quiet, reading anywhere, with that smile…” she whispered, bringing her trembling hand closer to your face. “You are like a Goddess to me, better than a Goddess… But I… I knew that I could never have you, that you would never love someone like me. I limited myself to looking at you from afar, dreaming of your beauty, until that day…”
“What day?” you asked, tilting your head, with a serious face, but with your eyes shining.
“The day you were talking to that boy, when you were telling him a story,” she said, without looking at you, still nervous. “Then I had no choice but to do something. Besides being a beautiful girl, you were smart, you had imagination. I had to meet you, (Y/N). I had to know if your beauty also touched your soul… And it really did.”
“That's… Very, very nice,” you said with an involuntary smile, lifting her chin. “Donna, Gods, I went too far… Forgive me…”
“I’ll always forgive you, (Y/N), you are the love of my life,” she said, placing her hand in yours. “Don't worry about the photos, I… If they disgust you that much… I'll, I'll get rid of them.”
“No, wait, honey,” you said, stopping the lady from bending down again to pick up the box. “Wait, my love… No, it's not necessary…”
“I would never do anything to hurt you, (Y/N), I live to take care of you, to love you…” Donna murmured, caressing your face erratically.
“I know, Donna, I…” you stammered, losing yourself in her gaze, in her sincere words of love. “Donna…” you sobbed, burying yourself in her arms, hugging your lover tightly, calming the delusions of your mind.
Her embrace was warm, comforting as always, strong, safe… In your head you regretted your attitude, that fury, the absurd transformation of your personality due to the interest people had in you, a physical interest, without feelings, a superficial vision of what you were on the outside and not on the inside.
The things the lady in black did, the photographs, didn't matter. Little by little you began to realize that it wasn't important.
What was important to her wasn't your appearance. It was that your beauty was linked to your soul, to your intelligence.
“Honey…” you sighed nervously, caressing her cheek, letting her arms cradle you. She looked back at you, nodding for you to speak. “Forgive me. I'm sure you'd like me to be a little more talkative or outgoing but… It's just that… Everything, everything that's happened to me, my disappointments… I…”
“Shh, don't go on, darling. It doesn't matter… I like the way you are, I love you just the way you are…” she whispered, kissing your lips softly, mixing your salty tears with the dance of a loving kiss, a sincere one, one that ended that horrible moment you both suffered.
Donna pulled away, making an effort to give you a smile, one that made your cheeks shine again with that blushing tone.
“Mm?” the lady in black murmured, when her gaze strayed to the torn sleeve of your dress. “What happened to your dress?”
“It's just that...” you murmured, moving your ankle, embarrassed. “The door caught me.”
“The door,” she said, with an amused expression, studying the damage of the seam. “Don't worry, dolcezza, I'll fix it.”
“You always fix everything, don't you?” you said shyly, looking down, only being able to hear her nervous laugh, a sweet and tender one. “Okay, let... Let me...”
Your feelings sent signals to your head as you moved away from the lady, with your cheeks flushed and your hands tremblingly traveling to the buttons of your dress, slowly undoing them, one by one.
“Tesoro, what..?” Donna asked, looking at you curiously, watching how, controlling your shyness, you took off the sleeves of your arms, thus revealing your partially covered torso.
“Shh, I'm embarrassed if you talk,” you whispered nervously. “Just let me do it by myself”
She nodded, not wanting to bother you, to intimidate you, running her gaze over all the parts of your body that were gradually becoming exposed.
“Sei una dea della bellezza,” the lady in black murmured, breathing nervously in front of your half-naked body.
“Don't even talk to me like that. Don't use Italian against me. You know I'm embarrassed…” you protested amused, grunting in shame, unable to hold her gaze.
You could sense a smile as she approached, surrounding your body with her hands, caressing your waist, your back, lifting your chin so your blushing face looked at hers.
“I will never be tired of saying how beautiful you are,” she whispered in your ear, with that melodic voice that always made you squirm, while her soft, delicate hands took advantage of your distraction to act on the clasp of your bra, unbuttoning it instantly.
You laughed again, resisting the embarrassing impulse of your hands, which asked you to cover yourself. Fighting your own shyness, you succeeded, while Donna helped you face that absurd shame with a soft kiss from her lips, with some sensual caresses on your bare back.
“Donna…” you whispered, letting yourself be carried away by the humidity of those tender kisses, by the glances, by the sighs, by that increasingly warm, an increasingly anxious atmosphere.
Your dress fell down your legs, crashing against the floor irremediably, making a shiver run through your legs, the cold making the hairs on your skin stand on end.
“Come here, amore mio… This horrible floor is not worthy of your footsteps…” Donna whispered, lifting you in her arms in an elegant way, raising your half-naked body to lay it on the bed.
“Why are you so tender?” you asked amused, crawling across the mattress, closely followed by the brunette, who began to get rid of her own clothes without taking her gaze off yours, a look of admiration, of faith, of adoration to your body, to you.
She didn't answer, she simply moved the black dress away from her body, approaching you little by little, running her hands over your legs, over your waist... Leaning down after a sigh and kissing you again.
They were sweet, tender kisses but they betrayed the passion that had begun to form in the dark bedroom. The blush on your cheeks didn't want to leave your skin, shame refused to give you a break.
You were sure that every time your lover ran her hand over your face, her skin burned from your heat.
You laughed shyly when Donna exposed her bare torso as well, when she did with her hands what yours were incapable of doing, uncovering the beautiful woman beneath that black fabric, that pale, soft skin you were addicted to.
A brave arm pulled her head, returning her lips to where they belonged, directly to yours.
Her hips began to dance over yours. The heat of her body was mixing with yours. The kisses became fiercer, wilder as her fingers enjoyed your body, the shapes and curves you were born with, that kind of cursed blessing your beauty was.
“Gods… I love you…” Donna whispered, shaking her head, unable to repress her excitement any longer, pulling down your underwear with a soft movement, studying your embarrassed face, your gaze desperately searching for a place to focus on that wasn't her body.
“I love you,” you repeated, trembling as that hand ran down your chest, the other spreading your legs, exposing you completely.
The wine seemed pale compared to your cheeks. Your whole body trembled nervously as Donna finished undressing, as she positioned herself on top of you, ready to make you hers.
“Please, if you want me to stop, just…” she said, looking for the doubt in your eyes, that unmovable blush on your cheeks when her erection brushed the moisture of your folds, when you saw for yourself what you were doing to her body.
“No, no, Donna…” you said, gaining confidence due to that obscene, lustful touch, one that you had already experienced, but that you had a hard time getting used to. “Just… Don’t, don't look at me, okay?”
The brunette laughed, delaying her entrance and shaking her head, running a hand over your reddish cheeks and another one over your leg, scratching it without harming you.
“You can't ask me that…” she whispered with a smile distorted by desire, while her hips forced her to move so as not to lose that wet contact. “Watching you is my greatest hobby… You can close your eyes.”
You obeyed, writhing from the sensations her hard shaft sent to your body, not wanting to see her gaze when making love to you, not wanting to feel the shame that would prevent you from enjoying.
“Ah, Donna…” you gasped when she finally entered slowly, letting your wet entrance adapt, without forcing, enjoying the moisture that surrounded her, the ease with which your body accepted that invasion.
“Am I hurting you, amore mio?” Donna asked in an almost silent whisper, moving more slowly until she entered completely.
You, unable to say a word, unable to bear that incredible pleasure, shook your head, running your hands around her waist, bringing her even closer to you. That gesture reached the brunette, who quickly understood the message, you wanted her to move.
You would never say anything, you would never ask for anything. The only thing you could do without dying of embarrassment was to moan, to say her name, but never interrupt or dare to ask her for something different.
The wet sound of your bodies was accompanied by discreet moans, by the random sound of your lips colliding with each other in a disorderly manner. Everything gave you pleasure: her hands, her erection deforming your walls, her soft caresses, her reassuring, flattering whispers…
You were stupid. You would never give up that, the comfort of her body inside yours, the love and understanding that only Donna could give you.
In the middle of that lustful festival, your arms moved alone, running down her back, enjoying her skin when you thought she didn't notice, when the soft but determined movements of her hips began to become erratic.
Her hands also lost their tenderness, gently grabbing your legs, lifting them at will. Just thinking about that look, that eye shining with desire as she took you… Just with that thought you let out a louder moan and your hips began to want to keep up.
It was an intense rhythm, embarrassing but not wanting to miss anything, wanting to enjoy each one of those wonderful sensations, that very sexual, erotic and hot way that Donna had of expressing her love for you.
“(Y/N)…” she moaned, losing the rhythm, moaning faster, unable to control her movements, scratching your legs, your fragile skin.
That only made you tense up, scream, say words you would never say while you noticed how your body contracted, how your walls played with her erection, hugging it, holding it, squeezing it until, overwhelmed by the pleasure of your orgasm, she released herself inside you, stopping her body as close to yours as possible, with her legs shaking and her seed sending soft and wet caresses to you.
“My love…” you sighed when the lady fell exhausted on your chest, catching her breath little by little, with a smile, not wanting to leave your wet and warm body.
“(Y/N)… Ti amo, ti amo…” she repeated over and over again, finally coming out of you and covering your face with kisses, settling you under the sheets, letting her body surround yours, protecting it from shame, from your fears…
“Donna,” you said, snuggling up to her, controlling your still agitated breathing, melting into her body in a tender embrace, far from the lust of moments before. That was the true reward, for which you fought day after day with her insecurities and with yours.
Her hugs, her caresses, her fingers tangling in your hair… That was much better than Paradise, much more pleasurable than anything else.
“Are you okay?” the lady asked after a few minutes in which your breathing was the only soundtrack. Her voice was tired, exhausted from the effort, but always, always in love.
“Yes…” you sighed, snuggling up a little more, wrapping her other arm around yourself, daring to look at her smiling face, making your ears delight in her soft and affectionate laughter. “I've never been better…”
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harrywavycurly · 1 day
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I just know there’s moment with SC girl and Harry when she does something and Harry just thinks she’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen😩😩
Hiii babes!!! Ohh I’m sure there are soooo many moments that Harry just looks at her and goes “you’re so damn cute” but he’d have to make sure she can’t hear him or he’d get a quick “language!” Tossed back at him for saying the word damn😂 but I hope you enjoy this little blurb about a moment between them, it’s totally random but I can see it happening💖
-find all things Southern Comfort here✨
A/N: You don’t even realize you’re doing it but Harry doesn’t mind because he thinks you’re adorable, enjoy✨
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“Oh sugar did I tell you about my meet the teacher next week?” Harry adjusts the bag on his shoulder as you briefly let go of his hand making him frown as he looks down at you just as you reach into the front pocket of your denim shorts and grab your chapstick. “I think it’s the same night as that dinner thing with Mitch and oh darn it.” Harry watches you in amusement as you run the chapstick over your lips while your eyebrows scrunch together while you try to remember the name of the other person invited to the dinner you’re talking about next week.
“Do you need a-”
“No no don’t give me a hint just yet it’s on the tip of my tongue I can practically taste it.” You cut off his attempt to help making him chuckle as the two of you come to a pause on the sidewalk, enjoying an afternoon walk to the beach on one of Harry’s rare Saturdays off. He turns to face you and without really thinking you get up on the very top of your tiptoes with the chapstick in one hand, you reach up and gently hold the side of his face with your free hand and quickly run the balm over his lips before capping it and putting it back in your pocket. “James! That’s his name!” You all but shout excitedly before you reach down and grab Harry’s hand and begin walking.
Harry can’t do much besides stare at you for a moment before his brain reminds him that you’re walking so he needs to also move his feet before you start to actually drag him down the sidewalk. He knows you’re totally unaware of the fact his heart just felt like it melted into a puddle at his feet the moment he felt your hand on his cheek to hold his face still so you could swiftly apply the much needed chapstick to his lips. You have a tendency to do things that just have him left standing there in awe of you because it’s just little acts like you applying chapstick to his lips, the times you patch up a holes in his jeans (without him having to ask) because you already have your sewing kit out, you absentmindedly putting sunscreen or bug spray on him before leaving the house after applying it on yourself or when you pack him a lunch to take to the studio and leave it in the fridge for him with a little love note tucked inside that show him how effortless it is for you to care about him and that’s just something he’s not used to.
“Honey? You okay?” Your tone is laced with a hint of worry causing your accent to be a bit thicker than normal snapping Harry out of his thoughts, he blinks a few times and just nods as he brings your hand up to his lips.
“I’m good sweetheart.” The smile you give him when he places a few kisses to the top of your hand is enough to make his knees want to give out. “So what were you saying about your meet the teacher?” He asks in hopes it makes you go on a little rant.
Something Harry has learned over the last few months of dating you is that he does love it when you get caught up in a story because you just get so animated and your accent goes thicker as you speak so fast sometimes he wishes subtitles would appear in front of you so he doesn’t have to ask so many follow up questions that make you think he wasn’t listening. Because one thing about Harry is that he always listens it’s just sometimes he gets too caught up in how your voice sounds saying the words rather than focusing on what the words actually are.
“Oh well since it’s the same night as that dinner with Mitch and James I was seeing if I could just send you off with a dessert of some sort since I won’t be able to make it.” You stop walking when you come up to a stop sign, Harry stands next to you for a moment before you see him take a step towards the street. You naturally drop his hand and hold your arm out blocking him from taking another step without even looking at him. Harry looks down at your arm that hits him below his chest and he has to rub his lips together to hold back his smirk. “I’m thinking a bunt cake? I haven’t made one in a good long while and it’s about to be fall so I think that’s the perfect time for a bunt cake.” You continue as you lean forward a bit and look to your left and see there’s no cars coming and then look to your right and see the coast is clear making you drop your arm and grab Harry’s hand so you can lead him across the street.
“Baby did you-”
“I just don’t know if it’s too early for a pumpkin flavored one? Does Mitch even like pumpkin things? I’ll have to text him.” Harry can’t fight the smile that takes over his face as you keep walking and talking, and he knows you don’t mean to ignore him he knows you’re just deep in your thoughts and probably didn’t even hear him.
“Baby.” He says it a bit louder but still just as softly as he did the first time, you turn your head and look at him and he has to stop walking making you raise an eyebrow as you stop and look up at him. “Did you just mom arm me at that crosswalk?” He doesn’t ask to embarrass you he asks because he needs to know if it’s something you even know you do or not. You turn your head to look at the crosswalk not even a few feet behind the two of you and then back up at Harry with a playful look in your eye.
“I sure did.” You answer making Harry laugh as he reaches down with his free hand and tucks some of your hair behind your ear. “What was I supposed to do just let you walk out into the street without looking both ways? I mean really sugar even my four year olds know better than that.” There it is, your classic way of teasing him but also making him know you care about him at the same time.
“You are so fucking adorable.” You roll your eyes as he leans down so he can place a kiss to your lips, he knows you’re going to get on to him for the cursing but right now he doesn’t care because your lips are soft and taste like strawberries.
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winchesterwild78 · 3 days
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A Home and a Heart
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Master List
Characters: Jack Duffy x Reader
Warnings: Language, Inappropriate propositions, angst, injury
A/N: Just a quick story, not too long. Maybe two or three chapters. I haven’t seen Buddy Games, but I did Google the character. I know he wasn’t in the movie long, but we can always use our imagination.
This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life or the movie in any way. 
Please do not take my work, reblogs are appreciated.
Minors DNI 18+
The rain drummed against the roof, echoing through the small, cramped house. You sighed, your heart heavy with worry. You had been trying to keep your head above water, but it seemed the problems just kept piling up. The leaky roof, the faulty stove outlet, and the crumbling front steps were more than you could handle.
You were a single mother to a very active 3 year old boy, Tommy. He was the light of your life, but it was also exhausting doing everything alone. Tommy’s father ditched you the minute he found out you were pregnant, and you haven’t heard from him since. 
Your family and best friend have been an amazing support for him and you. When you had to work late at the hospital, they would watch him and help take care of him. 
Being so fiercely independent, you refused to tell them just how bad the repairs needed really were. Your best friend, Abby, knew. She offered to help you, but you refused. She had just had a baby and she and her husband were trying to build their nest egg. You couldn’t take money from them. 
Desperate, you reached out to local handymen for help. The first one showed up in a fancy new truck. He walked around your home and took notes, he went on the roof and when he came down he handed you a quote for $15,000. Your eyes almost popped out of your head. “Well, thank you so much for coming out. I’ll let you know.” He nodded and got in his truck and left. 
The other quotes were any better. None of the companies were willing to set up payments with you. Even though you had a steady job and amazing credit they said they weren’t willing to make arraignments for such a large amount. 
The last two contractors were far worse. You showed Joe in and he walked around. He started to head towards your bedroom, “Um, excuse me, there isn’t anything in there that needs repairing.” He turned and walked over to you, “Oh not yet, darlin’, but I’m sure you can’t pay so we can work something out.” His hand brushed against your breast. 
“ I think you should leave.” “Ah don’t be like that. I know you’re lonely and need more than just your house worked on.” You were fuming, “Leave, NOW!” 
He grabbed his stuff and left. You were starting to feel hopeless. You called Abby, “Hey Abbs. I don’t know what to do. I’ve called every handyman I can find and they are either too high, won’t do a payment plan, or they try to sleep with me. I need to give Tommy a safe place to live. I don’t want to walk away from this house. It’s mine and it’s something I’m proud of having.”
 Abby offered a sympathetic ear, “I know honey. Maybe you can try and call Jack Duffy. He owns Duffy Construction, he can be a bit of an ass, but I know he’s got a kind heart. When John got laid off a few years ago, Jack had him come work for him so he could make some money.” “I didn’t know that. I’ll give him a call, thanks Abbs.” 
Jack owned Duffy Construction, and though he had a reputation for being gruff, you were willing to give him a chance. You called him up and asked him to come by for a consultation. “Mr Duffy, my friend Abby Smith told me to call you. I own a small home and it’s in need of some urgent repairs. I’m going to be honest with you so I’m not wasting your time, I’m a single mom on a fixed income. I’d be willing to set up a payment plan if you were open to it.” “Well, let me come out there and take a look. I’ll let you know.”
The next morning you saw Jack driving down your driveway in his big truck. Tommy was standing at the door, jumping up and down seeing the truck. “Truck, mommy, truck!” You scooped up the toddler, “Yes baby I see it’s a truck. Mr. Duffy is here to see if he can help fix the house. 
Jack walked up the stairs and noticed how broken they were. You greeted him with a warm smile and an extended hand, “Hello Mr Duffy, thank you for coming by. I really appreciate it.” He shook your hand, “Hello Ms Y/L/N, it’s nice to meet you, and who’s this little guy?” He ruffled Tommy’s hair. Your toddler squealed in delight, “I’m Tommy.” “Well, hello Tommy. Want to show me the house buddy?” Tommy nodded excitedly. You smiled softly.
As Jack inspected the house, he discovered even more problems than you had initially realized.
“So Ms, Y/L/N, besides the roof, front steps, and stove outlet, I unfortunately found some other things that need attention as soon as possible. The foundation is cracked by your bedroom, and the main bathroom has a leak into the walls. That’s going to require a complete demolition of the bathroom, so we can dry out the wall and replace everything.” 
Tears pricked your eyes. “Oh wow. I definitely got screwed over when I bought this place. I never should have bought it.” The tears started to fall. You wiped them away quickly, “I’m sorry Mr. Duffy. How much will all of this cost me? 
“Well, first, please call me Jack, and I can do it all for about $5,000.” You sat and looked at him in disbelief, “I’m sorry, what? $5,000? That’s it? Please Mr. Duffy, I mean Jack, please tell me the full price.” 
“That is the full price. I don’t take advantage of people and I own all of my own equipment and have all the material needed for the repairs already. I tell you what, if you’d agree to do something for me I’d be willing to do the repairs at no cost.”
“You know what, I’m tired of men thinking I’d spread my legs for them to get repairs done.” “Whoa! What? Y/N, I’m not asking you to sleep with me. Jesus. What kind of man do you think I am? Shit!” 
Your face turned red with embarrassment, “Jack I’m so sorry. The last guy I had here tried to get me to sleep with him to do the repairs. I am so sorry. I understand if you want to leave.”
“Let me guess, Joe Collins?” “Yes, how did you know?” “The guy is a douchebag. He tries to jack up his rates and then sleeps with women to get them lower.” “That’s disgusting.” “Yeah it really is.”
“So, like I was saying, I work really late at night, sometimes I just sleep in the office trailer. It’s been years since I’ve had a home cooked meal, and I know you can cook. Abby told me. (he smirked) So if you’d be willing to cook some meals for me, I’d be willing to do the repairs for you. Of course I might need Tommy’s assistance with tools and stuff, if that’s okay with you.”
“Wow, that’s really generous of you. I know Tommy would love to help you with tools. I doubt you’d get the right one you needed, but he’d try. Sure, I’ll cook for you. Are you allergic to anything or have any dietary restrictions?”
“Nope, I’m not a pansy. I like meat and eat junk, so I’m good for anything.” “Having allergies and dietary restrictions don’t make you a pansy.” You chuckled. 
A few days later you were woken up by the sound of walking on the roof. You looked over at the clock and it was a little after 6am. You grumbled and grabbed your robe. Walking outside you stepped into the yard, “Um, since when did we agree to you coming at the crack of dawn to start working?” 
Jack looked down at you and chuckled, “Sorry sweetheart, there is rain coming in later and we wanted to get this roof pulled off and the new one laid before it comes in.” 
“Ugh! Fine. Wait, I just needed a repair, not a whole new roof.” Jack looked down at you, “The repair area was just too big. It makes more sense to just do a new roof.” “Okay, well I’ll be in the house trying to sleep. I have a shift in a few hours.” 
“Sweet dreams” Jack chuckled. You lazily waved and climbed up the stairs and went inside. Abby had taken Tommy to her house for the night, so you grabbed your earphones, turned on some white noise and went back to sleep. 
A few hours later your alarm went off and you got out of bed. Hearing the hammering overhead you figured they were already laying the new roof. Dang they work fast. You went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Waiting for the water to heat up, you went into the kitchen and started your coffee. You made extra for Jack and the guys working with him. 
Jumping in the shower you cleaned yourself and your hair. You finished getting ready for work then went into the kitchen and started cooking something to eat. You figured Jack and the other guys were hungry, so you whipped up something filling for them too. 
You ate quickly and grabbed your cup of coffee. Grabbing your bag you went outside and got Jack’s attention. He climbed down from the roof, “Hey, I hope we were as quiet as we could be.” “Oh I put in my earbuds, I didn’t hear anything but the soothing sounds of the ocean.” Jack chuckled. 
“So I’m heading out to work, I left the front door unlocked for you. I made you guys something to eat and some coffee if you’re hungry. All I ask is you guys stay out of my underwear drawer.” Jack chuckled, “Now where’s the fun in that. You know you learn a lot about someone by the underwear in their drawer.” You looked at Jack unamused. He threw his hands up in defeat, “Sorry, I was just kidding. We don’t go through people’s things. You can trust us. Thanks for cooking, you didn’t have to.” “Yes I did, I thought that was our arrangement.” “Yes, but only for me. I can’t have you spoiling my guys.” 
You smiled and touched his chest. “Don’t worry, I’ll save the good stuff for you.” Your fingers lingered on his chest for a few minutes. His chest was so toned and firm. Your breath quickened. Jack’s heart started pounding, he liked your hand on his chest. 
You cleared your throat, “Well have a good evening, Jack. I’ll see you later.” “Yeah, bye, Y/N, have a good shift, and thanks for the food.” You waved and nodded as you climbed in your car. 
Driving to work all you could think about was Jack. His piercing green eyes, his smile, his bowed legs perfectly hugged by his blue jeans, his toned chest, and his whiskey silky voice. You hadn’t realized your face had flushed or that you were biting your lip until you put your car in park at work. 
You took a deep shaky breath before getting out. This attraction to Jack came out of nowhere. You really need to get it under control since he’ll be working at your house. 
A few hours into your shift you walked into a patient's room to check on them before they were discharged. That’s when you heard a familiar voice coming from the room next door. 
“The nurse will be right with you sir. I’m just the triage nurse.” She walked out of the room and handed you the chart, “This one is a little grumpy. He keeps complaining he doesn’t have time for this shit.” 
You snorted, “Okay, thanks for the heads up.” You looked at the chart and softly gasped. Jack Duffy, Male, 46 years old. 
Of course this happens. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door. “Come in” you heard his gruff voice say. 
As soon as Jack saw you his eys softened. “Well, hey sweetheart.” You smiled and blushed a little, “Jack, what happened?” 
“It was stupid, I got distracted and fell off the roof. I think I broke a rib and I sliced my hand pretty good.” 
“Oh my god, Jack! Okay let me see the hand first.” 
You removed the temporary dressing and looked at his hand. Taking his large, calloused hand in yours sent a shiver through your body and straight between your thighs. Your breath quickened. 
Swallowing hard, “You’re going to need stitches. I’m going to clean the wound and get the sutures on it.” Jack just nodded. 
As you cleaned his wound and stitched him up, he watched you, completely mesmerized by you. The way your fingers brushed over his skin, like a delicate dance, only the two of you were invited to. 
You bit your lip as you worked. Your eyes flicked up to his, God he’s got gorgeous green eyes. And his lips look so plump and soft. 
“Okay, all patched up. X-ray will be here to take you in a few minutes. Hopefully nothing is broken.” Your hand lingered on his for a few moments. “Hey, Y/N, thank you.” He touched your hand as you started to walk away. 
You smiled and nodded. A few minutes later they came to take him away to get his x-rays done. 
You sent Abby a text. 
You: Girl, Jack got injured and he’s here right now. I just finished working on him. 
Abby: Mmm is that what it’s called now. 😝 
You: Girl, stop. 😂 
Abby: He’s single, you’re single, he’s hot, you’re hot. 
You: No I’m not, girl stop. There is no way he’d be interested in me, an frompy, single mom. 
Abby: Don’t sell yourself short. You’re amazing, beautiful and a kick ass mom. Anyone would be lucky to have you. 
You: Thanks, Abbs. Well he’s back from x-ray. Gotta go. Give Tommy a kiss for me. 
Abby: Will do, go give Jack a big kiss, make his boo boos all better. 😘 
You: Yeah right. 🙄 
Your face flushed a little with Abby’s texts. You walked back into his room. “So now we wait for the doctor to read the film and he’ll tell us what to do next. Jack, I can’t believe you fell off the room. You could have been killed. I’m so glad you’re okay.” You touched his shoulder. 
His eyes sparkled under the harsh lights of the ER, “Me too, not sure what happened. I was just distracted and lost my footing. It was stupid.” 
The doctor came in a few minutes later, “Mr Duffy, I don’t see broken ribs, they are however bruised really bad. I’m going to have Ms. Y/L/N to wrap it pretty good for you. Keep it on unless you absolutely need to take it off, like to shower. Do you have someone who can help you wrap it tight again?” 
Jack looked up and was about to say no, but you nodded yes. “Um, yeah I guess I do.” “Great, then I’ll let you get wrapped up and we can discharge you. Ms. Y/L/N, wrap him tight and get him ready to go home.” You nodded, “Yes, sir. Mr. Duffy, I’ll be right back with the wrap and your discharge papers.” Jack nodded and you walked out.
Coming back in with the wrap and his papers you took a deep breath. “Okay, Jack I, um, need you to remove your shirt.” Jack took his shirt off and you let out a soft gasp. He was so toned, and being this close to him made you quiver between your thighs.
“This might hurt a bit, but let me know if it’s unbearable.” Jack nodded and you got to work. “Lift your arms slightly for me.” You started to wrap the bandage around his torso. You noticed goosebumps erupt on his skin as you wrapped his ribs. You leaned around him and your chest was flush with his as you reached around to wrap around his back. 
As you stood back up, you stopped and Jack placed his fingers lightly on your chin. “You’re incredible, you know that?” You blushed, “Thank you.” “I mean it, you are amazing at your job, you’re a kick ass mother, and you’re so beautiful.” 
“Jack, I, um, don’t know what to say.” He smiled softly at you, “You don’t have to say anything, darlin’.” Jack’s fingers brushed against your face, you leaned into his touch, instinctively. 
“What would you do if I told you I wanted to kiss you?” You softly chuckled, “I’d ask if you hit your head when you fell.” “I didn’t, and I’m serious. I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I met you.” 
You bit your lip and took a deep breath, “Well, then do it.” You couldn’t believe you told him to kiss you. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you felt like you were going to pass out. 
Jack leaned in closer to you, your lips inches from each other. Your breath hitched. Jack softly pressed his lips to yours and you pressed yours to his. 
The kiss was soft and tender, not rushed or needy. As you two pulled back, his hand held onto your arm for a few minutes. 
“That was so good. I can’t wait to do it again.” He smiled at you. “Me either, Jack.” So he leaned in and placed his lips to yours, this time the kiss was deeper. He put his hand in your hair and pulled you between his legs. His tongue swiped across your lips, asking for entrance. You parted your lips and Jack deepened the kiss more. You moaned into his mouth.
The kiss was incredible, sending chills through your body. When the two of you finally pulled apart, you both smiled at each other. “Well, Mr. Duffy, you should head home to rest. I’ll see you later.” He smiled, “Yeah, I’ll see you after your shift. I need to go finish up some stuff before I call it a day. You shook your head, “Jack, please go home and rest. Whatever it is can wait.” 
Jack got off the table and grabbed his shirt, putting it on, “I’ll think about it.” He placed another soft kiss on your lips and smirked. 
“I’m never going to stop kissing you, I hope you know that.” “Good, because I don’t want you too. I’ll see you later, Jack.” “I’ll see you later, sweetheart.” 
With that, Jack grabbed his things and left the ER. You were left finishing your shift, thinking about the shared kiss and what it will mean for your future. You hoped it meant the beginning of something wonderful, but you were still guarded, and not just for your sake, but for Tommy. Only time will tell for sure.
Part 2….Coming Soon
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morganski-19 · 2 hours
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Chills Right to the Marrow Part 35
ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 32, part 33, part 34
“So, how’s living in the mansion?” Eddie asks. Stabbing at the Jello cup with a fork instead of trying to eat it.
“Don’t think it’s officially a mansion. It’s just a big house.”
Eddie looks at him skeptical. “Same thing.”
In all fairness, it hasn’t been all that bad. It’s been an adjustment, sure. Any move would do that. Especially one where he barely knew the roommate. But he’s been sleeping better than he has for weeks. Been taking better care of himself. Can do laundry without carting himself to the laundromat and shelling out a handful of quarters. There’s a kitchen where he can start cooking in again. A real couch to sit on and a table to eat at. He forgot how much he missed stuff like that.
“It’s fine,” he says. Really downplaying it.
Eddie nods, seeing through all of Wayne’s bullshit. His stubborn air to automatically dislike anything that he didn’t do or buy himself.
“And living with Steve?” Eddie asks with hesitation.  
Steve keeps to himself well. Gets up for work and leaves peacefully. Never making a big fuss, or really alerting Wayne that he’s there too much. He’s quiet. A little too quiet sometimes.
Sometimes Wayne will wake up and there’s coffee waiting for him in the kitchen. One time he walked in after a shift and Steve left him some food in the fridge. And there’s always a note on the kitchen island letting Wayne know where he is. So, there’s nothing to worry about.
“Also fine,” Wayne responds.
Eddie almost sighs a breath of relief. Like he was hoping Wayne would like Steve. Would get along with him without a fuss. Like he hasn’t been more than cordial with Steve ever since Eddie woke up. They’ve already gotten along better that Wayne would have guessed.
But there was another layer to this. Wayne can approve of Steve as a friend, he certainly seems capable of doing that. The more that Eddie is secretly wanting though, that he’s not so sure.
Steve’s a fine kid. Just one with a reputation. Heartbreaker of Hawkins High. The one that every girl wanted to be with. Who got with everyone he could. It could be an exaggeration. It could be a bunch of bullshit rumors. Wayne wouldn’t, or really want, to know. Steve’s personal life is his personal life. He’s not inclined to share it.
But if that personal life comes back around and hurts his boy. Well, Steve should know what would happen about that.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Eddie suddenly averts his eyes. Finally eating the now massacred Jello.
“Because I know you, and I’ve seen this look before. Didn’t like it then and I don’t like it now.”
Eddie clicks his tongue. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” Because he does. But it wouldn’t hurt for him to be wrong sometimes.
“No, you don’t.” Eddie slams the Jello down on his tray as hard as he can. Just letting gravity assist him in making a point. He looks at Wayne with that anger in his eyes that Wayne would really like to avoid.
They don’t need the first disagreement they have since Eddie’s accident to be in a hospital.
“Alright then,” Wayne backs down. “How’s the physical therapy going?”
That starts a new rampage. But one with frustration not directed at Wayne. The doctor taking the fall of what Wayne started. Eddie getting frustrated at the way his limbs keep failing to do the things he once was able to. The way they stiffen up when he strains them too much. Or how the pain can just start shooting through and never stop. Not just for hours, maybe a day or two. Where the pain meds can’t seem to dull them enough where Eddie can stop thinking about it.
It's hard to watch. Has been and will continue to be. There probably won’t be a day where Eddie will be the way he used to. Constantly in some sort of pain. Reminded of the moment his life changed forever.
The visiting hours end, and Wayne has to leave. It never gets easier, leaving. Just marks another tally of the endless line of days Eddie’s been in the hospital. It seems endless, anyway. Even with the talks of being discharged, it still feels like there’s no hope.
He tries to find it. Tries to keep the candle lit for more than a few seconds. It doesn’t always work. But he’s trying.
No matter how many times Wayne opens the front door of the Harrington house, it still doesn’t feel real. He’s been staying there for a week now, and each time the key slides into the lock, it feels like a dream. Or a really cruel prank.
But it’s real. All of this is.
“If you get more flour in my hair, I swear to God,” Steve’s voice echoes down the hall.
“Well than stop making it so easy for me,” Robin’s voice, if Wayne’s remembering correctly, follows.
He unties his boots and places them on the floor mat by the front door. Being very careful to follow the one major rule that Steve had when it came to the house. It was easy enough to follow. He wanders down the hall and into the kitchen. Walking into a mess. Different measuring cups and spoons scattered around the island, small piles of flour and other dry ingredients surrounding it. A pile of dishes in the sink. The slight smell of something that was burnt.
Honestly, he likes it better this way. Reminds him of home.
“Hi, Mr. Munson,” Robin chirps. Eating chocolate chips right out of the bag.
“Oh hey,” Steve looks up from bowl he was mixing. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
Wayne nods hello. “What are you making?”
“Chocolate chip cookies,” Steve explains, looking toward Robin. “Because someone wanted cookies but didn’t want to do it herself.”
“We didn’t have any chocolate chips in the house,” Robin shrugs. Pouring another handful of chips into her mouth.
Steve rolls his eyes. “Didn’t believe it the first time and I don’t believe it now.”
He turns around to grab the baking sheets, leaving an opportunity for Robin to steal the spatula out of the bowl. Helping herself to raw cookie dough. Steve sighs when he turns around.
“Shouldn’t you also be scared of salmonella, Miss ‘Rabies is like my number one biggest fear?’” he snarks, searching in the drawer for an ice cream scoop.
“Rabies and salmonella are two very different things.” Robin continues to eat the batter off of the spoon. “How’s Eddie?” she asks, directed toward Wayne.
“Better,” he says with more confidence than he feels. Not being able to ignore the way Steve perks up when Eddie’s name is mentioned.
“That’s good,” Steve says. The gentle click of the ice cream scoop filling the break of silence.
Wayne nods. Feeling the need to cross his arms. “Yeah. The doctor says if he keeps his progress steady over the next week, he should be able to come home.”
Steve and Robin look at him with mirrored hope.
“That-that’s really good,” Steve smiles. “It’ll be nice seeing him outside of the hospital.”
“And hiding,” Robin adds. Throwing the spatula in the sink.
Wayne nods. Still feeling out the awkwardness of these interactions. “I’m going to turn in, just wanted to say hello.”
“Let us know if we’re being too loud. I can always kick her out.”
“Hey.” Robin slaps Steve’s arm.
“Night,” Wayne leaves the room. Swallowing a laugh.
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itsalwaysforyou · 5 months
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jay not asking coach about letting lonnie onto the team bc he doesn’t want to do anything coach might disagree with…….
#‘coach trusts me…’ like what if i cried#man i wish they made more of a thing of jay being TEAM CAPTAIN#<- i’ve made a post before abt how easily he gives it up & jay not liking positions of power etc etc#but i do think he treats the role like it could be taken away at any moment#coach TRUSTS him. holy shit coach trusts him#the first positive adult figure in his life trusts him to take care of the team#train them and critique them and lead them to victory#and coach probably wouldn’t have cared abt lonnie being on the team#but jay is sooooo hesitant to ask#coming from the ‘if you want it take it and if you can’t take it break it’ guy#like this is the one thing he doesn’t want to risk breaking…….#and then obviously he gives it up!!!!!#he gives up the thing coach TRUSTED HIM WITH bc it was the only way to let lonnie on the team#& mr ‘my only dislike is women being unhappy’ was like I CANNOT REST UNTIL LONNIE IS ON THE TEAM#it’s suchhhhh a sweet gesture not only from a hashtag feminism standpoint#but also character wise for jay#like this precious thing that coach has trusted him with but didn’t really want that much anyway…..#it’s going to mean more to lonnie if she had it. even though it means everything to jay#oh it makes me crazy#damn my mum was right. i think too deeply about things#im like i analyse things a normal amount and then i’m writing essays about 1 line from descendants 2#I AM UNWELL#anyway. jesus christ#descendants#jay son of jafar#EDIT i’m not finished actually#do you think jay fears the repercussions? what would happen if he went against coach’s word?#bc sure. he knows coach is nice. he knows auradon isn’t like the isle#but. ‘you don’t want to be at my house at dinner time’…….#he is still scared of his dad. you know. he can never get the lamp he can never do anything right
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werebutch · 4 months
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My mom getting a new place is kinda making me anxious I think she thinks I’m gonna move in w her instead of my dad 😭 and I’m not sure why I don’t want to. Cuz she’s way better. But I don’t. And I feel responsible I think and plus my sisters will never favor my mom over my dad… so we’d live apart. but I’m 20 years old I can live whatever I want. But. But but but
#idk I really like our house too. it’s great. it’s exactly my style. I would miss it LMAO#but again my mom is just.. she’s so much more organized and she and my stepdad actually get stuff done#and take care of themselves. living w her would be more like we’re roommates and not how it is w my dad#who needs to be taken care of and doted on like a child. my sisters too but I don’t think they’d survive living without me at my dads 💀#or they’d be really pissed at me. at the least#my dads house is constantly horrible so messy so so so bad no free counterspace anywhere can barely walk thru the house and cat vomit#everywhere. unless I take care of all of it. I can’t have company over unless I know a week in advance so I can make it look like a normal#house. and at my moms it’s never like that. it’s messier than average sure but it’s never disgusting like that#people are always telling me not to do anything and let my family learn to clean up after themselves but if I don’t it will just get worse#and worse. they’ll wait weeks before doing anything. it’s embarrassing. and depressing. if I let it go long enough I am miserable every day#after being homeless or on the verge of homelessness for 10 years my dad can’t even appreciate the fantastic house we have 😭#he has to fuck it all up. it’s not 100% his fault bc my sisters do fuck all but he DID teach them to be this way. the only reason I do#anything is because I snapped out of planning to kill myself and realized that I needed to be there for my sisters. so I started being like#their parent more and more. but they still never learned to unload the dishwasher or take out the trash without screaming about it.#I’m just very overwhelmed and nervous about this move. I also feel horrible as if I’m disappointing my mom if I don’t move in. I don’t want#to disappoint her any more than I already have..#she is soooo excited about giving me a room the basement so I can have my bunnies there..
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goldensunset · 4 months
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i think what amazes me about my parents is that they both fulfill like classic bad parenting stereotypes but like with the gender roles swapped. my dad is the jobless homeowner’s association member petty passive aggressive one who has to yell and criticize us about everything and my mom is the breadwinner who is always working and too completely emotionally detached from anything to care for better or for worse
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wawataka · 5 months
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i don’t know what to do about this cat i’m feeding. sigh
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ghostwithaheartbeat · 7 months
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Day three of holding everyone’s laundry hostage until my father takes a shower.
The last of my father’s beloved white socks have fallen to the filth. There is little hope, and even less in terms of rest. The battle is ongoing, and it feels often that I am fighting alone. Morale is low; my ally in this conflict, mother, is injured. I long for the days when I can rest. When this war will cease, and all will be clean again. The dishes done, the people bathed, the laundry washed and folded. Alas. We know the struggle will never end.
I am Sisyphus, and my father’s horrid stench and apathy are forever my boulder.
My father is a war profiteer, and I am a hapless young recruit greeting a doomed mission.
Last shower date: December 25th, 2023
#collective tag#it spoke#i’m venting#but like… only half serious#god I am so so so so tired.#I’m so pissed man#at just. everything#this house is falling apart around me and It’s like I can’t do anything#I have begged and begged and begged this fucking man to take a goddamn shower.#I cry about this#because he just doesn’t fucking care#I CANT DO EVERYTHING!!!!!#NOT FOREVER#huge ass ants everywhere? sure. fuck it. why not#piles and piles of laundry? okay. I can do that.#not paying the mortgage until our shit gets shut down and mom and I yell at you?#cooking halfassed meals that are only barely tolerable to you and inedible to everyone else#and then complaining when we don’t eat them despite how much we’ve all told you?#and leaving the whole kitchen to rot?#PISSING YOURSELF REPEATEDLY AND NOT CHANGING YOUR PANTS BECAUSE YOU DONT FEEL LIKE IT AND NEVER SHOWERING FOR MONTHS ON END?#I’m just… words cannot describe how tired I am right now.#mom has a broken foot too so I also have to take care of her even more than normal#how did baby me handle this all the time on top of school?#‘yeah sure i can take care of two fucked up angry disabled adults on top of my crippling childhood trauma and schoolwork!’#—>#‘I swear to fucking god I will telepathically make my heart stop beating by sheer force of fucking will if I hear you call for me again’#deepest apologies to any poor soul that reads this#i really just needed to cry and scream and cry harder again until I throw up#and maybe a hug
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tautozhone · 5 months
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idk how to start this so this post is ab individual action, trying to motivate positive change in the world, etc etc
a lot of growing up in the US for me makes things feel more scary than they are. like it’s actually not that difficult to go out of your way to get a bottle of water or iced cup of water from some random drive through if you think you should do it. either fast food conglomerate or local actually, it’ll usually be cheaper than 5 dollars to get drinkable water. i try to have 5-10 dollars i can justify spending on water, and asking for change, because sometimes when i’m out driving i need to go grab water.
i do not do this for me as much as i try to do it specifically when i see someone who’s most likely homeless on a street corner. i’m sure one day i might do this and they might not be there when i come back, but what have i lost really? a bit of time and a bit of money that would’ve meant more to them, that i can hold onto until i see them next.
the pressure that a lot of people feel when they think “what can i do” comes from this grand narrative that the average citizen can singlehandedly fix the housing crisis. rich people? maybe. nonprofits? not in a day, not all one person still. what can i do is a question i ask a lot. what can i do, not just because it feels bad to move along like nothings wrong with the world, but what can i do that will do anything. what can i do that makes even the smallest change.
i feel like it took me too long to figure out a personal method to what i consider individual action. it’s taking time to get to my own financial stability to be able to do more. but for now it’s as simple as water and cash. not water and food, but water and cash.
individual action means a lot in small steps, go get a bottle of water bare minimum and the price of a meal if you can and then just give it to them. if it wasn’t such a miserably hot place where i live i would keep a pack of water in my car, which i still want to do for the sake of having immediate access to water to give someone who might need it- hot or cold sometimes won’t matter. but when it’s hot out, get cold water, if it’s cold out, a warm tea will hydrate more than coffee will as long as it’s not super caffeinated.
#very genuinely i’ve always felt paralyzed by the idea i cannot doing anything to help and on the grand scale i kind of can’t#i can’t give someone a house to stay in where i could take care of the space enough to get someone back on their own feet#but i can give someone water and some money for whatever they need#one day i’ll be able to do more but for now. water bottles and cash.#what i want to say here is everyone knows bare necessities and everyone knows ways to get them#i also have an opinion that you should sit with and hold the harsh feeling of seeing the world fall apart and help people survive anyway#idfk man#i’ve met some extremely fucking jaded people in my time at college who seem to have no way to piece together that they can do SOMETHING#one of my classmates once complained about feeling bad about not doing anything for a guy on a corner and i recognized who#because i’d seen him too and done nothing at least 5 times before one day on the way home i gave him all the cash i had on me#she’d said she’d do more if she wasn’t so scared and anxious of being hurt. i don’t see how he could even look harmful or dangerous#he blessed me and offered a hug and asked me to have a good day and said thank you and i still can’t see why she was scared of him#at the same time i hadn’t done anything until i saw myself in someone else and thought it looked nasty. looked uncaring.#i saw him again today and gave him a water bottle and all the cash i had on me. i told him the weather seemed hot#he agreed with me and he took the bottle of water#i think i interrupted him opening it to hand him the rest#he got up and he blessed me again#offered a hug and more thank you’s and it’s so simple but i felt us both human in that moment. talking about the weather in a brief exchange#wishing each other well as we go different ways#he wouldn’t stop thanking me and wishing me well#i told him it was the smallest thing i think anyone could do and i still walked away hollow wishing to have done more somehow#to suddenly own an apartment complex nearby for him and anyone he knew that needed it too#not a rigid shelter but a place to make home#blah blah blah talking too much about a deed done because i get emotional about humanity#tauto talks
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threnodians · 9 months
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this family christmas hasn’t been too bad except apparently my sister invited her super conservative asshole of a coworker for some reason??? or very possibly he just. showed up. so now i would simply just like to leave 🫠
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pepprs · 2 years
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also the favoritism thing is still making me so fucking mad and insane btw. im not jealous / resentful of my brother bc he deserves her love and is also burdened in his own ways by it and bc i think my drama w my mom has shaped my life in profound ways and given me friends i cherish and i would never trade any of that for the world but jesus fucking christ. why do i have to beg you to interact with me like a mother. why do i have to talk to me at all beyond asking me to do you 847439473 favors a day. why do i have to beg you to take an interest in my life and apologize when you hurt me and be nurturing and perceptive for once in your fucking life. like it hurts to hear her asking him about his classes and whatever bc she didn’t think i was stressed out w school but i had to talk to a ****** hotline last decemver when i couldn’t take it anymore and my mental health was crashing and burning and it doesn’t even fucking matter to her at all and she’s going to get him the nice gifts and throw him the nice parties and whatever because she hates me and my sister for… and let me get this straight… being complicated and anxious and depressed and also girls. lol!
#purrs#delete later#sorry i knowive been insane about momposting but this shit has me screeching like an ape. the way when my brother was born she decided me#and my sister would be okay with each other bc we were twins and meanwhile she was leaving my sister to have anxiety attacks and me to take#care of her and all of this happening at like 7 years old and she would come into my brothers room every single night and kiss him goodnight#and talk to him for a long time and she wouldn’t even come in and say goodnight to us. LOL. ok. like our room being a depression nest is not#an excuse. us not helping out much in the kitchen or around the house (which is bad but also we have reasons for it that i think are valid#and i only do it here and not elsewhere btw.) is not a good excuse. you can’t decide you love your one kid more because he helps out and#keeps his room clean and whatever. maybe he is normal because you made it very clear from the time that he was born that he was your top#priority and you gave him your attention and didn’t take it away meanwhile my sister and i have always had to share bc we’re twins and she#cast us aside when he was born and has fucking tormented both of us for years over who we like what we want where we go all of that shit and#then has the AUDACITY to call herself a good mother. being a good mother is more than feeding your kid and projecting your childhood trauma#onto them by preventing them from ever developing cancer to the point where they’re afraid fo like. go outside. you have to be patient and#nurturing and kind and like.. motherly. ans i know no one can be a perfect mother and she has been hurt so badly and she is dealing with a l#lot right now but COME ON. for gods SAKE. i am right fucking here. why don’t you care about me? why do you make it clearer every day?#ask to tag#like the way she would say when my sister and i were growing up and going through it that she wished she could book a hotel and live there f#far away from us and miss out on us growing up so she wouldn’t have to deal with us being anxious and hormonal because we were teenage girls#LOL. totally did not impact me at all. totally is not a wound that informs every breath i take and every thought i have. not at all#* like maybe he is normal because you uh… idk. just a guess here. actually gave him the motherlove people need to be functioning healthy#human beings? idk. just a silly thought. haha
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ringneckedpheasant · 2 years
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i wouldn’t say that my parents are ““accepting”” of my ““lifestyle”” but it’s been sooo long since my mom has asked me abt having kids and also last time i brought alistair to their house i was constantly referring to my parents as his grandma and grandpa and when i left my dad was like “come back soon alistair :-)” like. he actually enjoys it when i bring him over whereas he’s complained Literally every single time one of my siblings has brought a dog over
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hellfireeddiemunson · 2 years
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i just want to have a nice day off and first day of the new year. why have there been people here since 11am. GO AWAY
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