#but i know plenty about renting in the states lol

[sentientcave]

And They Were Roommates

Got brainworms from Ceilidho talkin' about Fem!Soap and wrote out a few scenarios, and landed on this one as my favourite. Maybe personal trainer Soap and hot woman complimenting you in a dive bar bathroom Soap will get written about later on.

Part 1

Part 2 Here

(Fem!SoapxFemReader) ~2.2k words

Alcohol mention, but no other major flags at this point. (A few jokes about axe murderers) But also MDNI because this is an 18+ blog and there will probably be NSFW content in future parts

You had put an ad up online.

Your best friend had moved in with her boyfriend, leaving you with more apartment than you could afford. You had enough savings to get you through till the next month, but things were going to be dicey if you didn’t find someone to take over Fern’s half of the rent soon.

You’d had plenty of responses, mostly from men that gave you creepy vibes, even through digital means. You’d actually met with only one person, and she was allergic to cats, which made her a no go.

She’d been nice enough, though. If it really came down to it, maybe Fern would take Red Herring. She did love that fat orange bastard. And so do you. The thought of giving him up, even to Fern, doesn’t sit right.

Red meows loudly through the door as your key scrapes in the lock. You nudge him away with your foot while you enter the apartment, wary of any escape attempts. You feed him so he stops yelling at you, and boil water so you can feed yourself some instant ramen for dinner, and boot up your laptop to check the ad again.

A few more creepy responses, one of which is just a slightly blurry dick pic. You delete them. One that looks promising.

>Hey! I’m interested in the room if it’s still available! Can we meet soon? I’m a military gal and I’m being deployed again next week and I already gave notice at the last rat-hole I was renting. Seemed like 60 days was plenty of time for apartment hunting 60 days ago, but I haven’t found anything lol. Hopefully we get along! You can give me a call any time in the next few days, and we can set up a meet’n’greet. Thanks a bunch! Jamie MacTavish

Her number is in brackets below that, next to the soap emoji, for whatever reason.

No sense waiting around. You call the number right away.

“Hello?” The voice is a woman’s, a dusky alto, which is a good first sign.

“Hi, Jamie? I’m calling about the apartment. Or, um, from the apartment.” You give her your name as an after thought, feeling silly that you hadn’t led with that.

“Yaldy! I was hopin’ ye’d call. I’ve got a friend I can move in with if it comes down to it, but I really don’t want to. He lives in a worse rat hole than I do. Are ye busy now? I’ll buy ye dinner if you like, just for the short notice and the trouble.”

Anything would be better than ramen for dinner a second night in a row. “Yeah, alright. There’s a decent pub down the street, Keeler’s? It’s close so I can give you an apartment tour if you pass the ‘not a murderer’ vibe check.”

There's a beat of silence. “Does killin’ people in the line of duty count?” she asked. “Because, er, I have. But I’m not like, prone to doin’ that kind of thing in my spare time.”

You think about it a moment. State sanctioned violence does feel different than personal time violence, although you're pretty sure that speaks to some sort of unaddressed bias. Something to think about. “I appreciate the honesty, at least.”

She laughed. “I can meet ye at yer pub in half an hour. That work for ye?”

“Yeah. That works.”

“Great. I’ll text you a picture of me so ye know who tae look for. See you soon.”

You get the text a minute after you hang up. A picture of a gorgeous woman with big smile and bright blue eyes, the sides of her head shaved, the rest of it left long and braided back from her face. She looks normal enough.

You get ready and head out, texting Fern to let her know where you’d gone, just in case Jamie actually was a murderer in her spare time.

Jamie’s already there when you get to the pub, sitting at the bar with a pint, watching the door intently, her leg bouncing. You give her a little wave, and she beams at you. She’s even hotter in real life, wearing tight, ripped up jeans that cling to her muscular thighs, and a tight black tank-top under a cropped leather jacket. She has almost no jewelry, other than the dog tags around her neck and the silver hoops in her ears. She looks, well, normal. Friendly.

You go up and introduce yourself, earning a firm handshake. She’s strong.

“Hi!” she says excitedly. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jamie, but my friends call me Soap. I’d tell ye why, but it’s classified.”

“Is it really?”

“No. But it’s fun to say.” She flags down the bartender. “A pint for my friend here, if you don’t mind. You want to grab a booth? Or stay up at the bar?”

You look around, and there’s a few empty booths, but it’s early yet, and they tend to fill up quickly. “Let’s move. If we stay up here the single dads are going to start hitting on us.”

"We are a couple of dolls, aren't we?" She flashed another big smile at the bartender as he set a second pint out. "We're movin' to a table, if ye don't mind."

"No problem, love," he says, obviously besotted already. "I'll send Jenny around to take your order."

"Thanks, pal. Appreciate it."

You pick up the pint and follow her over to a booth, sliding in on the opposite side.

"So, you said you're military?"

"Ah am. SAS no less. Best of the bloody best. Not many jobs where ye get tae blow things up awl the time." She sheds her jacket, revealing impressively muscled arms. "I could just live on base, if things don't work out here, just so ye ken. No pressure on ye. But I hate stayin' on base when I don't have to. It's the communal showers. Most of the lads are, well, lads. Gotta shower in the middle of the night, and I keep bumpin' into my LT when I do. And he said I could move in with him too. I’m in a rush but I willnae be homeless, so ye don’t need to worry about me if you dinnae think we’ll get along."

You wince in sympathy. "That sounds terrible. I don't think I'd ever be comfortable showering in front of other people."

"Is naw so bad, if it's someone ye like seein' naked. But most of em are munters anyway. Wouldnae mind so much if more of 'em looked like you." She winked over the edge of her pint glass and took a swig.

You laugh at her little joke. She's fun, and you already feel at ease with her. She tells you about her old rat hole apartment, and a little about living on base, although she's a bit vague on the details of her actual job, beyond blowing things up.

She asks you about your work, and you tell her about the used bookshop you work at down the road. You're basically the only employee, and it's usually not too busy, although it can be annoying when you get a rush in the middle of pricing 'new' books. But it pays the rent, more or less. You talk a bit about Fern, and about Red Herring too.

"I love cats," she said excitedly. "Never been able to keep one, bein' away so much. LT had a dog, and he was awlright, but I'm definitely more of a cat girl. Got bit by a few too many pups in my day."

"Well, Red's a real love bug. Once we're done here you can meet him. I think we're going to get along fine."

"Och, really? Just like that, aye? Thought I'd have to work harder."

"Honestly, I thought I was going to have to accept some weirdo or give poor old Red away. You're a much better fit than I expected to find. I think we could be friends."

Her blue eyes track something behind you and narrow slightly. "Well, I'm holdin' ye to that. We're about to be accosted by my lads. Don't let them scare ye." She shoves her plate across the table into the spot next to you and clambers out of the booth. "Oi, what're you munters doin' here? I'm gettin' interviewed for an apartment. Dinnae need you scarin' my girl."

You look behind you, spotting a giant wearing a skull-print balaclava, and a more regular-sized (though no less muscular) black man with a brilliant smile. "We wanted to make sure she wasn't an axe murderer," he says pleasantly.

"Or a chainsaw murderer," the giant adds.

Soap cuts him off before he can take the seat beside you. "Over there," she orders, pointing at the opposite bench, where she'd been sitting. "I'm not lettin' you box her in." She grimaces at you apologetically as she drops into the spot beside you. Her thigh presses against yours for a moment, before you shift further down the bench. "They're sweet, in their own way. Think I need lookin' after. The big guy's Ghost, or LT. This handsome pain in the arse is Gaz. Don't let him sweet talk ye intae callin' him Kyle unless you want him tae put yer ankles up by yer ears. Made that mistake before."

"You don't have to bring that up every time you introduce me to a woman," Gaz says, clearly exasperated.

"I do. How else are they gonna know to call you for a good time?" She smacks his hand away from her plate when he reaches for it. "Oi! Order your own chips ye bastard."

"I only want a couple," Gaz protests.

"Ye always say tha' and ye always lie. Ah umnae fallin' for it again."

"You can have a couple of mine," you offer. "I wasn't going to finish them anyway."

"When do we get to see the place?" Ghost asked.

"Ye don't, unless yer carryin' boxes for me. I willna ask her to let three strangers in her home when she's only just met me."

"Well I guess we're helpin' ye move," Ghost said. "Was gonna leave it all to Price."

"Lazy cunts. Ne’er around when there’s work tae be done.”

“I was gonna help,” Gaz protests. “I already told you that.”

“And I did tell you that you could move into my place if you didn’t find somethin’ in time,” Ghost points out. “We’re not all bad.”

“Well, they’re not bad lads tae have watchin’ yer back in a fire-fight,” Soap admits. “But they dinnae know how to be normal about anythin’.”

“Are you supposed to be the normal one?” Ghost asks.

“Aye. And I willnae have you say otherwise in front of my new friend.”

She finishes eating long before you do, with the speed and gusto of a woman who often has to defend her plate against hungry scavengers. Gaz, true to Soap’s complaint, eats the majority of your chips, although he does thank you and give you a big, wide smile, the sort that could sell someone a bridge. He’s definitely a charmer.

Soap asks for the bill while you’re finishing up. You reach for your purse, but she puts a hand on yours and gives you an intense blue stare. “No, kitty. I told ye I was buyin’ ye dinner, I’ll no’ let ye make me a liar, especially when Gaz ate half your plate.”

God she’s strong. You’re not sure that you could shake her off to insist even if you tried. “Alright. I just—”

“Oh I ken. But I wouldna offer if I didna mean it. I’m a woman of her word.” She pays with cash, and offers you a hand up and out of the booth. She points a warning finger at her friends. “And dinnae follow us, ye creepy bastards.”

They laugh, like they hadn’t followed her to the pub in the first place.

“They really do mean well,” Soap says, linking her arm with yours as you step out onto the street. “But they’ve go’ a bad habit of thinkin’ they dinnae need to respect my space just ‘cause we’ve all spent nights crammed into one room sharin’ cots. I think if the captain had his way we’d all live in his house and sleep in a big fuck-off pile like dogs.”

“Sound a bit claustrophobic.”

“Aye. Ye understand why I’m so eager to make this work with ye, kitty-cat. If I move in with LT it’s just a matter of time before Price comes over tae help us fix somethin’ and says ‘Oh, I dinny know why ye both stay in this shitehole. Whyna stay with me a while, till we find ye somethin’ better?’ And then before we know it we’re all sleepin’ in the same bed and usin’ the same toothbrush.”

You giggle, hoping that's just a joke. “That’s gross.”

“I ken! Horrible men, they are. I need some girl time before I go mad.” She squeezes your arm and knocks her head against yours gently. “We’re goin’ tae be best friends in no time, kitty. I wish I wasna goin’ away so soon.”

“You haven’t even seen the apartment yet!”

“Och, tha’s a formality. I was more wurried about us gettin’ along, kitty. The apartment doesna matter all that much, so long as it’s got a workin’ shower and a place for my bed. If I pass Mr. Herring’s sniff test, I’ll give ye cash on the spot, aye? For next month an’ half of this one, since you’d be lettin' me move in before the first.”

And, well, it’s hard to think of a good reason to say no.

[eureka-its-zico]

After speaking with two doctors yesterday

I'm never felt so lost alone and depressed

Oh no hun 🥹i know you might feel alone right now but listen: YOU ARE NOT!! i‘m a real good listener so if you wanna talk feel free to!! We‘re all here for you even tho we might be only strangers to you (who ofc absolutely adore everything you write for us lil weirdos hehe)

It will get better believe me☀️

Osiyo, Nonnie 🖤

I’ve been having a hard time. I think the hardest part of having lung issues, especially lung issues after COVID, is that nobody knows what they are doing or what to look for.

I was admitted this year for the third time because I caught the common cold. My body literally cannot get sick or it immediately tries to unalive itself. I can’t clean my house (I still do because who else will clean it? lol) I can barely shower or get dressed or even walk from my bedroom to my kitchen on certain days when my breathing is bad. I can’t work. Not sure if anyone knows what it feels like to struggle to breathe (I’m sure some do), but it’s terrifying and painful and my body doesn’t respond to most treatments anymore.

I’ve been dealing with this for four years and every year it gets worse. I’ve finally gone to Stanford, a fancy hospital with fancy doctors, hoping they can help me but they are as lost as my doctors here. I got sent home from the hospital because no one knows how to help me. And yes, doctors tell me that all the time. They don’t know what to do for me except get me stable enough to go home when they know I’ll be back later.

I’m just very tired. I asked about permanent disability from my doctor and he refused. Said he believes in miracles and doesn’t want to believe I’ll always be broken like this even after three pulmonary doctors have stated that very fact. My lungs are collapsing. While it is a sweet sentiment, sweet sentiments don’t pay rent and bills and I can do neither of those.

I am just very stressed. Very tired. Very much heavily depressed. I’ll be ok. Christmas is coming and that means Christmas lights. I’m a slut for lights. 🥰

Thank you for your sweet message and reaching out. I’m sorry this is winded. I probably would say more but I’m sure no one wants to see sad things on their dash 🤣 I how you are well and taking care of yourself with plenty of rest Nonnie. Much love 🖤

[dirt-grub]

Saw the new Futurama episode! Gotta say, was pretty good. I wasn’t blown away but I wasn’t disappointed, and the writers were careful to not let their age show too much lol, that was my (and a lot of other people’s) criticism with late seasons of Futurama but yeah it was current and tactful. The satire was apt and a few jokes made me chuckle out loud. I muse on for a little more under the cut but yeah, excited to see more from writers I actually respect lol

I appreciate that Fry’s boomer brain is what saved him in the end. It’s mostly a joke that haha look Fry suddenly reads but in all seriousness it communicates how easy it actually is to get out of the constant stream of drivel content we experience from all angles, and the deceptive dopamine loop it traps us in. Like, I have arguments constantly with a lot of my irls about how they need to have better standards, because we waste so much of our lives and time filling it with useless noise.

There’s plenty of good art out there that does deserve your attention and you also aren’t going to die if you’re not “consuming” media for five seconds. I’m not perfect, much like 90% if not 99% of Americans my literacy has gone down the shitter since grade school, and I still give my time arguing about or wasting my attention on things that don’t deserve it. Truly though there was a time before The Endless Content Stream and if we want to preserve our brains we need to go back to it.

What WOULD have brought this to like a 10/10 is if they elaborated a little bit further on how the state of capitalism is the drive for all of this; they touch on it with the executive robots (which I just love, glad to see them make another appearance. Whenever they’re on screen I know the jokes are on point) but it’s a little accidentally deceptive having Leela (aka person who demands constant content) be the driving force behind the decision.

Futurama and the Simpsons have the center-left habit of assuming the population is lazy and demanding rather than stuck. This is a roundabout way of saying capitalism bad and that I’d love to spend more time outside and doing enriching new activities, but I have 8 hours to burn every single day in order to pay my overinflated rent. I, like many others, can’t do anything engaging in that time because work could suddenly demand me, so I resort to listening to something on my phone. (And, like a huge population of Americans, my job is tedious and not that demanding in reality- it’s only demanding because employers want to break you by not allowing bathroom breaks or sitting or whatever.) There is truth to the allure of laziness though- there’s something stopping me from going outside, but there’s nothing stopping me from reading a book.

So yeah. In conclusion, good Futurama episode. Also cool they cut Leela’s hair for the lesbians in the audience lol

[cowboybuckleys]

I don't know much about how contracts and stuff work in the UK, but is Alya allowed to demand her deposit back just 'cause she decided to move out?

Is that why shes trying to get money outta Eileen?? Would that even be Eileen’s responsibility?? O_O Alya’s been acting like a jerk towards everyone lately, I’ve just kinda blocked a lot of her stuff out tbh lol.

I’m not sure how it works in the UK either. I assume that she moved out early without a whole lot of notice? In the states at least, you would be lucky to get a deposit back if you moved out early on a lease. And even then the landlord would still have a few weeks or a month, depending on what state you live in, to return any money from it. When I moved outta my last place 6 months early I had to forfeit my deposit as “rent” for the months they couldn’t find a new tenant. We got maybe $50 back of a $1400 deposit and we were lucky to even get that lol. I would assume the UK at least has some similar tenancy rules to ours?? If so, i don’t think Alya would have much legal leeway to demand anything from Eileen just yet.