#eviction process steps

[deadtower]

me after spending the past 12 hours or so in a blinding panic of anxiety like. hm. things are really gonna be okay, huh

[lawofficeofryansshipp]

A Florida Eviction Attorney's Guide to Mobile Home Evictions: Breaking Down Florida Statute 723.061

Florida Mobile Home Eviction Attorneys When it comes to mobile home park evictions in Florida, the rules are a bit different from standard residential evictions. Florida Statute 723.061 outlines specific reasons and procedures for mobile home park owners to follow when evicting a mobile home owner, tenant, or occupant. Law Office of Ryan S. Shipp, PLLC knows how important it is to guide park…

[jnnul]

falling in love at first sight (x3)

a/n: so i woke up in cold sweat and i had to write this. there's like 30k i could've written about this but tbh, i needed to get this out lol. also taesan has been living in my head rent free so this is his eviction notice. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

word count: 6.3k

tags: college au!, basketballplayer!taesan x nurse!y/n, honestly it's just a fluff piece, idiots in love, dongmin is DOWN BAD and falls in love with the same girl 3 times, uhh y/n is a feisty nurse warnings: taesan is called dongmin, uhh alcohol + memory loss involved with getting shitfaced lol

HAN DONGMIN DIDN'T REALLY BELIEVE IN SUPERSTITIONS. to him, things like 'knocking on wood' or 'not opening an umbrella inside' were just old wives' tales that didn't have much substance to them.

but after dongmin had shattered his bedroom mirror this morning (he'd accidentally launched his alarm clock across the room after sleeping too late last night), nearly every single thing in his life had gone wrong.

he'd put expired milk in his cereal because kim donghyun (his roommate) hadn't switched out the milk like he'd promised to the day before. then he went to take a shower, only to be burned by scalding hot water since the landlord refused to change the heating system, even though they'd been suffering through the sticky heat of august for fifteen days already. as if all of that wasn't enough, he'd accidentally torn his favorite hoodie trying to clean up the fragments that'd fallen on the floor. and when he was trying to salvage his hoodie, he scraped his forearm against the fragments, meaning he had a nasty gash along the long side of it.

which meant he'd have to go to the hospital to take care of this stupid bloody mess instead of going to class.

that was how han dongmin found himself sitting in the waiting room of the urgent care center of the hospital, a shoddy rag wrapped around his forearm, his essentials hoodie covered in blood, expired milk, and mirror dust.

needless to say, dongmin had gotten more than a few strange looks from the other people in the waiting room in the last four minutes he'd been there.

"han dongmin!" the receptionist calls out, and dongmin launches himself out of his chair, impatient to get this over with as soon as possible.

something about hospitals just gave dongmin the heebie jeebies. the fluorescent lighting, the smell of rubbing alcohol, the tangible feeling of sickness that wafted through the air.

ugh. dongmin hated hospitals. in fact, he was so sure that he would never even step foot in a hospital after this. if he needed to wrap himself in bubble wrap to do so, then so be it because he hated hospitals and he would never come ba -

dongmin stops dead in his tracks, right next to the recovery bed that the receptionist had led him to. standing in front of him was the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen in his life.

you were smiling at something the patient in front of you was saying, leaning over to bandage the patient's scrape with a little bandaid that had cartoon ryans all over it.

fuck that.

dongmin was ready to break his leg if it meant that he got to stay in the hospital and stare at your beautiful face all day. before he could find something big and heavy to knock his leg into, however, you make your way over to dongmin, clipboard and first aid kit in hand.

"hello," you say with a soft smile. "my name is y/n l/n and i'll be taking care of you today. is there anything i can help you with?"

"will you go out with me?" the words escape dongmin's mouth before he can even process what he's saying and you immediately lean backwards, a disproving wrinkle between your eyebrows.

"excuse me?" you say, and it's clear that dongmin's not gonna be in your good graces if he hits on you. he really hoped you were like this with everyone and not that you just found him super unattractive or anything (donghyun swore up and down that dongmin was not ugly - especially now that he'd dyed his hair! but donghyun also never had to chase after a girl in his life so...). or worse, if you already had a boyfriend.

but before he can ruminate about your affronted stance too deeply, dongmin rushes to fix his mistake. "i mean, hospitals really freak me out. the ethanol smell and the lighting and everything kinda gets in my head, you know what i mean? do you think you could just slap some gauze on outside?"

the tension in your shoulders immediately relaxes and you take a step forward once more, setting the first aid kit down next to dongmin.

"oh yeah, that makes sense," you say, sounding relieved. "unfortunately, i can only provide care while inside the hospital to make sure that the instruments and gauze are sterile to prevent any contamination. i promise i'll be as quick as possible so i can get you out of here!" you explain, a slight pout tugging your lips down in the most adorable way as you seem genuinely sorry for dongmin.

it was official: han dongmin was in love.

"no, don't worry. take your time. i mean, the cut is pretty bad and i don't wanna leave any mirror guts in it," dongmin says. as quick as possible, my ass, he thinks to himself. i gotta find a way to make this last for as long as i can.

"of course!" you assure, before looking down at the clipboard. "so i assume you cut yourself on a broken mirror? does it hurt when you apply pressure?"

what was the answer that would keep you here longer?

"yes?"

"are you asking me or telling me?"

"telling?"

"very convincing. i'm gonna need to apply pressure and confirm for myself then, if that's alright with you?" you look at him in a way that seems to be somewhat apprehensive and dongmin has never wanted to reverse time more than in this very instant.

until he doesn't because your hands are on his forearm, examining the wound gently and applying pressure around the open gash.

"does it hurt when i do this?" you ask, eyes trained on the way that his forearm muscles ripple and move as you apply pressure in different places.

dongmin's not the most buff guy on the planet, and you checking out his muscles was definitely not for your own pleasure, but at least all of his time on the court and in the gym has paid off in some way.

"uh...no. not unless you're super close to the cut," dongmin says and you nod with a gentle smile. it's in that moment that dongmin decides that he would kill anyone and anything just to see you smile like that again,

"that's good to hear. well, i guess that all we need to do is 'slap some gauze on' after disinfecting the wound and making sure we don't have any 'mirror guts' in it," you say, a hint of cheekiness in your tone. dongmin doesn't know what it is about it but it makes him blush, regardless.

"yeah. that sounds good," he says dreamily, trying hard to compose himself once more when you flash him a questioning look.

you work carefully on his arm, making sure to give a tiny little stress ball to dongmin to use when you descend upon his wound with some antibacterial medicine and rubbing alcohol on a cotton ball.

"so, uh, you look pretty young for a doctor...?" dongmin says, trying very hard to focus his attention on you instead of the stinging pain that came with every touch of the cotton ball on his wound. the more he looked at you, the more he began to wonder if he'd seen you somewhere before.

dongmin wasn't the superstitious type, and didn't exactly believe in 'love at first sight', but no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't place you anywhere in his memory.

"that might be because 'm not a doctor," you say somewhat distractedly. "i'm a nursing student."

"oh. oh! you're a nursing student?" he asks. student. that means that you were either his age or just a few years older than him. and it also probably meant that you were a student at a university near by - maybe his?

"yep. a second year. although, don't worry, i've completed all of my first aid clinicals last year itself," you explain, leaning back in satisfaction when you finish cleaning up the wound.

"my school has a pretty famous nursing program, you know. maybe you've heard of yonsei's nursing program?" dongmin asks, eyes shining with hope.

it's only then that you look up at dongmin with an excited look in your eyes, turning to throw away the used cotton balls.

"i go to yonsei as well! i'm just starting my second year. it's a little strange because the nursing program runs through the summer, which is why i'm working clinicals right now. i'm almost done though, so i'll be switching into a field i'm more interested in," you say and dongmin swears he hears wedding bells in his mind. beautiful, kind, intelligent, and the same age as him? it was like god was basically handing his soulmate to him on a platter. maybe love at first sight was real after all.

"me too! well, i'm not a nursing major, but i'm a second year electrical engineering major," dongmin says, watching you turn back towards him with a clipboard.

"mhm, well, i've gotta tell you to be careful for the next week or so. no heavy lifting, sports, and definitely no cutting things. we don't want to make the wound worse, now do we?" you say chidingly, scribbling instructions on the clipboard of how to clean the wound with rubbing alcohol and how many pills of ibuprofen to take per day.

"of course," dongmin says half-heartedly. as much as dongmin hated the feeling of pain, the was the only way that he could think of to get to see you again was to somehow hurt himself again.

"how about you come back in a week to just make sure that it closed up well? make sure it didn't get infected or anything?" you ask, handing him the sheet of paper.

god was real.

dongmin swore he was going to go to church and donate at least 10,000 won for the blessing after blessing he was receiving today.

"oh sure," he says, a mischievous thought popping into his head. "but is it ok if i find you on campus? i have a lot of labs over the next week and i can't miss them if i can't even participate in them, so i can at least get the information. i won't really have time to stop by the hospital," dongmin says carefully, watching your expression to ensure that it wasn't changing with every word that escaped your lips.

technically, it wasn't a lie. dongmin did have a lot of labs next week but that's definitely not why he wouldn't have time to stop by the hospital.

"i don't see why not. i don't need any sterile instruments to just check quickly, so that shouldn't be an issue," you say slowly, nodding to yourself as you look around the little station to make sure you wouldn't need any of the equipment.

"perfect," dongmin says, shuffling out of the bed that he was sitting in to leave before turning around nonchalantly. "do you think i could get your number? so i know where to find you?"

you look up at him, and dongmin tries his best to seem sincere and genuine rather than as calculating as he felt, trying every tactic possible to see you again.

"yeah. yeah, here let me type it into your phone."

he hands his phone over to you, and it takes every single fiber of his being to keep himself from looking excited about any part of this transaction. you were already suspicious enough of him; you definitely didn't need more reasons to add to the list.

you're frowning slightly when you hand the phone back to him so dongmin pockets it without a second thought, to prove that he wasn't trying to be weird.

"thank you so much again." dongmin waves as he leaves, flashing the award-winning smile that he usually reserves for aunties and restaurant owners for free sides. oh, and for his fans.

you don't blush and trip over yourself when he does like his fans do - although you offer him a soft smile in return.

although, dongmin muses, i guess it would be weird if a nurse who met me for the first time would be anything like a college basketball star's fan though. maybe.

he shakes his head, opening the door to the hospital, looking down at his arm wrapped in gauze. yeah. there was no way that dongmin was taking a break from basketball. season started in less than three weeks and as yonsei's point guard, he had no choice but to just power through the injury.

it might work out in his favor after all. at least it would give him more chances to see you.

+++

turns out, the universe gives him a chance less than two days after he sees you for the first time. and in any other case, dongmin would be incredibly excited to see you again. he'd probably be ready, waiting with freshly showered hair and clean clothes and nice smelling cologne.

instead, when he sees you again, he's wearing raggedy shorts, a stained shirt, and holding a basketball that he definitely should not be holding.

dongmin knew he was fucked the moment you walked in through the double doors that opened up to the indoor basketball court of yonsei, light spilling in from the outdoors, along with the chatter and excitement of students returning to university.

you walk in wearing white, along with six other people dressed similarly, the basketball team's physician (dr. moon taeil) at the head of them all. dongmin hopes that you don't recognize him - or at least don't see him actively playing but of course, you manage to turn your head to see dongmin throw the ball out of his hands in a random direction in panic.

the ball, then of course, managed to fall neatly through the hoop, as though dongmin had intentionally thrown it there, causing him to want to die on the spot.

so he couldn't do that during a game with korea university, but now that he was doing everything in his power to keep you from seeing him play basketball, now he manages to throw it in the one place it shouldn't go.

your eyes narrow when dongmin turns to face you, your gaze falling to his (poorly) wrapped forearm. he offers you a trembling grin, which slowly turns into a frown when you look away, shaking your head as you start talking to the girl next to you.

at least you wouldn't say anything to coach about how he wasn't supposed to be playing right now, dongmin thinks to himself. even if i've effectively ruined my chances of her ever believing me about anything ever again. uh. not that i've had more than one conversation with her. or might have more in the future.

dongmin shivers, jogging over to where the basketball had fallen to pick it up and return to his place at the three-point line and continue shooting practice.

he returns to where he's supposed to be practicing, so that his back is facing the group of people who'd entered - namely, you.

"i forgot coach mentioned that we've got new on-site medical staff," dongmin mutters to himself, dribbling the ball before lining up his shot. "i didn't know that she'd be a part of that though - she can't be the sporty type if she didn't recognize me from the hospital."

dongmin is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't even feel the dark presence looming over him until the ball is released from his hand.

"HAN DONGMIN!" someone yells, right next to his ear, and dongmin scrambles to attention, wincing when the basketball bounces off the rim and into the cart of basketballs he was practicing with with a resounding clang!

he turns slowly, eyes closed, as if that would make you go away.

"i cannot believe that i bandaged you up so carefully just for you to start playing again! how could you be so careless? do you not want to be able to play during the season? you're yonsei's ace and you're being this irresponsible!" you're heaving by the end of your rant and dongmin blinks, trying to come up with a response.

you definitely didn't know him well enough to yell at him like this - much less in front of all of his teammates - but for some reason, that's not what stuck out to dongmin.

(much to his chagrin, you being angry was hot. like really hot. especially since he'd thought you'd be the soft and cozy type, not the impulsive and quick to anger type. he really liked this side of you.)

"you know who i am?" he asks slowly.

"OF COURSE I KNOW WHO YOU ARE! OH, YOU ARE GETTING ON MY NERVES. YOU ASS, I DIDN'T BANDAGE YOU UP THAT NEATLY FOR YOU TO BE WALKING AROUND SHOOTING THREES!"

you're yelling at him, and for some reason, dongmin has never wanted to kiss someone more in his life. he'd never though he'd be this attracted to someone that he's just met yelling at him, much less in front of his entire team and her own entire team. but for some reason, as dongmin looks at you waving your hands all crazy and annoyed, all he can think about it how much he likes you.

it wasn't just physical. of course, he thought you were beautiful - possibly the most beautiful person he'd ever seen in his life and he would die on that hill - but it was more than that. it was as though he'd genuinely fallen in love at first sight.

you could tell him that you were a serial killer and at this point, dongmin would just admire your bloodlust.

"uh. dongmin?" coach jung says behind him, hands crossed over his chest. "do you guys need a moment to step out and come back?"

even coach jung seems a little bit intimidated by your livid state of being and dongmin has to cough to cover up his life.

"no coach. we're done here," you say, turning dramatically on your heel to turn back to your friends. but dongmin moves quicker than even his own mind can process what happens.

before he can think, his hand is wrapped around your wrist, spinning you closer to him, almost as if the two of you were ballroom dancing.

you look up at him, shocked, but dongmin is slow to let go of your wrist, not wanting to lose contact with you.

"no, we need just a moment," dongmin says, his eyes never leaving your own. it's clear that you neither expected this nor were used to this kind of behavior from anyone and before the fight that's building inside of you bubbles out, dongmin tilts his head toward the door that leads to a hallway extending to the equipment room, practically begging you with his eyes.

you aqcuiesce - or at least, dongmin thinks you do - from the way that your shoulder melt just the slightest and you let him pull you into the hallway.

"what?" you snap the second the door shuts behind the two of you. "okay, maybe i didn't let on that i knew you from our encounter, but that's irrelevant. i didn't need to tell you that i knew you. and besides, as your healthcare provider, it would have been extremely irresponsible on my end for me to let slip that i'm a fan - or that i know you personally at all."

dongmin can't help but let a small smile slip. "personally? we know each other personally?"

you fluster in that moment, looking anywhere but at dongmin, bringing a large smile to his face. he'd never thought that the feisty, quick to temper and quick to lose it, loud type was his type but he was starting to enjoy it very much.

"alright, well i know you personally enough, alright?" you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "we've met before."

now it's dongmin's turn to look flustered, as he wracks his brain, trying to come up when or where the two of you have met before. he wasn't the one-night-stand type, so that couldn't be it. he also didn't have an insane amount of friends outside of the basketball team and donghyun's friends, so that wasn't it either.

"i'm really sorry - and i'm definitely trying to hit on you, just not right now - but i don't remember. i'd definitely remember someone like you," dongmin says, and he's well aware of the fact that his tone does not sound any level of displeased, and rather dreamy.

you roll your eyes, looking down at the ground. "we kissed once. twice actually. but um. that's not my point."

you clear your throat, as if you hadn't just dropped the biggest bomb of the century on dongmin, shaking your head. "why the hell are you playing basketball on an injured arm anyway? i specifically said no sports!"

dongmin raises an eyebrow. "you say you're my fan and yet you're still asking me why i'm playing when we have our first game in a week. and hold on. i'm not letting go of that first part; we've kissed? twice?"

you shrug, but it's clear that you don't think of it as nonchalantly as you're trying to make it sound when you speak. "yeah. in freshman year. once in spring semester and then once in fall. it's not a big deal. to you at least. clearly you kiss a lot of girls, if you don't even remember us kissing at all."

"now that's not fair," dongmin pouts, but he's well aware that he's not conveying this well at all. suddenly, a flash of a girl wearing a red dress, looking up at him with big eyes and a pouty lips crosses his mind.

good god. were - were you dongmin's mystery girl?

+++

"what do you mean dongmin finally found his mystery girl? the one he's been crushing on for a full year?" myung jaehyun says incredulously, instantly pulling out his phone to look you up on instagram.

dongmin sits in the middle of his friends, all sitting at the same table as they were supposed to be eating lunch, his head resting in his hands.

"you mean the one that he swore was the love of his life? god, he wouldn't shut up about that for at least six months," lee sanghyuk says, shoveling noodles in his mouth.

"try a year," donghyun groans, rubbing his forehead in pain. "do you remember the state of this kid when he woke up the next day?"

"good god, it was horrible. all he could say for a full week was that he wanted to jump out of the window because he'd lost her number and that he was never going to find true love because he couldn't remember her name, number, or even what she looked like," sanghyuck adds.

park sungho, the newest addition to their friend group, blinks, looking at dongmin, who's head is still in his hands.

"you were down bad, man," he muses and jaehyun on the side of him snorts.

"down bad doesn't even begin to describe it. it got to the point where we had 'girl in the red dress' and 'true love' jars because he would talk about her." jaehyun sighed, looking at dongmin pointedly. "he'd put enough money that we'd bought alc for the rest of freshman year. just in spring semester."

"that's what you get for trying to prove that you could drink a 4lokos without getting shitfaced," donghyun says, nose crinkling as he recalled the hours he had to spend making sure that dongmin wasn't going to die by choking on his own spit. "and he went and did it twice. it took us months to get to the point where we could invite this guy anywhere so as long as he swore not to bring her up again."

dongmin looks up, almost excitedly. "do you think that if i drink another 4lokos, we'll kiss at another party?"

sungho leans over, smacking him upside the head. "you're so fucking dumb. and i can tell just by these stories. you're not allowed to drink until season's over, idiot. and she's on your medical team. why don't you start by making a good impression while you're not so drunk you're going to start insisting that spongebob is hydrophobic."

("you were there when that happened?")

("you idiot, you thought i was spongebob. you kept throwing my drinks away because you thought i was going to disappear into them if i drank them. which makes no sense because that's not what hydrophobic means.")

("oh. sorry man.")

"yeah. just go to the med clinic tomorrow, apologize to her, and bring her flowers or something. women eat that shit up!" sanghyuk says with a mouthful of noodles and jaehyun nods, pointing his chopsticks at him excitedly.

"they do! my girlfriend always feels better with food and flowers," he says, cheeks stuffed to the brim with carbonara.

dongmin's mind races with all of the implications of doing so, but every single one of his thoughts fade away in light of the fact that he could redeem himself in your eyes. he slams his hands down on the table, swinging his legs over the bench to run to the nearest flower shop.

"i'll be back before practice!" dongmin calls out over his shoulder, waving a quick goodbye as he sprints towards the florists.

he makes it to the edge of the courtyard before he hears the yelling of his friends behind him, turning to see them waving at him (and waving some very rude fingers at him).

"YOU FORGOT YOUR WALLET, YOU IDIOT!"

+++

dongmin's friends were useless. absolutely useless.

he'd went and bought the prettiest bouquet of flowers he could find, a nice meal from his favorite bento place, and had even bought three different types of ice cream bars because he didn't know which one you'd like.

he'd walked right into the medical clinic office, his apology gifts all in hand, ready to apologize to you, redeem his honor, and become your own true love.

the last part probably wasn't going to work anyway, but the first two should've been foolproof.

instead, he manages to prove that he was a fool.

as it turns out, he wasn't the only person who thought that the flowers were beautiful; dongmin had managed to bring the queen bee as a secret surprise in the bouquet, which meant that the rest of her hive was NOT very happy that he'd committed royal kidnap, as far as the bees were concerned.

"HAN DONGMIN WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!" you yell from underneath your desk, where you were hiding from the sudden swarm of bees that had followed dongmin in.

he doesn't respond, too busy opening the window to drop the flowers out of, hesitating when he sees the number of people that were lounging around the courtyard that the medical office looked out of.

dongmin lines up the bouquet, sending a prayer to god (any one that would listen) as he shoots the best three he's ever shot in his life, so that the bouquet (and all of the bees that accompanied it) landed far away enough from people to prevent them from getting hurt.

of course, a few brave souls had stayed behind to exact revenge for their queen on dongmin, resulting in upwards of five bee stings, before dongmin finally evaded the great medical bee disaster once and for all.

he turns sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

"i don't suppose i could find medical care in this clinic, could i?" he says, and he's well aware of the fact that he's flushed bright red, as he always seems to when he's made a fool of himself.

thankfully, there are only four or five people, including you, in the office to witness this disaster - although, dongmin can see the girl you were talking to yesterday surpressing a smile.

"yeah, of course you could. but we're all headed on break so unfortunately, y/n is the only person who's gonna be able to give you medical care. you know, since you've already brought lunch for her," your friend says with a knowing grin. she ushers the rest of the medical staff out of the office, closing the door behind her with a telltale click.

"you can come out from under the desk now," dongmin says, and despite the situation, he finds it adorable that in the case of a bee swarm, your first instinct had been to hide underneath a desk.

"i was going to," you grumble, slinking out from your hiding spot and dusting off invisible dust from your pants. "what were you thinking, bringing flowers with bees in them?"

dongmin blushes, tilting his head as he tries to look anywhere but where you were. "i wanted to apologize to you. in my defense, i kinda always thought bees were made up. i mean, they're so fat! there's no way they should be able to fly. that directly violates like every law of aviation in the world."

your eyebrow quirks upward as you look at the ice cream and lunch he had set down on your desk in his bee-induced panic. "i can't believe you're quoting the bee movie at me right now."

"i can't believe you know i'm quoting the bee movie. i should've known the love of my life was an internet connoiseur," dongmin says with a sigh, examining the bee stings on his arm. how did these bees even manage to crawl underneath the sleeves of his shirt?

"excuse me?" you bark, hands on your hips. "did you just call me the love of your life? when you couldn't even remember who i was like yesterday?"

"okay, wait. you don't understand. first, i need you to help me out by getting some ointment on these stings because they're starting to burn and i don't know if that's so normal. and then, i'll explain everything, trust me."

you reluctantly reach back into a cabinet that reads 'insect stings' and grab the kit for bee stings, pulling a cream out of it, beckoning dongmin to come closer so that you could treat it.

"do you remember what happened that night? or those two nights, i guess?" you ask softly, eyes trained on dongmin's arm so that you don't have to look him in the eyes and he nods.

"i remember. well, as much as i can, anyway. i was blackout drunk both times. and from what i remember, you weren't exactly sober either, so i don't know how you remember me but trust me, whatever you think about me is not true. i was - i was so down bad that my friends had to make a 'no y/n' jar!" dongmin yelps the last part when your hand on his arm presses a little too hard.

"i'm sorry! sorry!" you gasp, immediately leaning over to blow cool air on the place you'd accidentally put too much pressure. "what do you mean by a no 'no y/n' jar though? i thought you didn't remember my name."

"i didn't! and it killed me! i don't remember exactly what happened those nights but i remember how much i liked you. i remember thinking that i'd never meet a girl like you in my life. it still frustrates me that i lost your number - although, i do remember the part where you smacked me over the head the second time that we met. i think i suffered permanent brain damage from that.

"but i remember glimpses of that night. like that red dress you were wearing and how much you were rambling about stars. you were giving me an in-depth explanation about how black holes work and something about how rockets look like they're stuck in time in black holes. not the point. but the point is that i genuinely fell in love with you that first night we met.

"i've got this horrid habit though, when i get drunk - i become either super scared of water, or super infatuated with it. it's honestly a coin-toss. so imagine my feeling the next morning when i wake up with a dissolved piece of paper in my pocket that's supposed to have your number on it, semi-wet clothes, and a raging migraine.

"i thought i met the love of my life and i couldn't even remember her name, number, or even her face. it drove me and my friends absolutely nuts. me because i didn't know how to find you when i couldn't remember anything. my friends went insane because i would talk about you so much that they bought me those swear jars for every time i mentioned you.

"of course, i didn't know your name so you were just 'the love of my life' or 'girl in the red dress' but i think i dumped at least 300,000 won in those jars by the end of the semester. and then as if the universe was out to make my life living hell, we met again and i was shitfaced again. i swore to never touch a 4lokos after that, if that's any level of redemption.

"anyway. i brought you flowers and all this stuff because i wanted to tell you that - that i've liked you for a lot longer than even i've known! i remember most of the conversations that we had, even if i couldn't remember exactly who you were. when i saw you at the hospital, i genuinely thought i was falling in love at first sight. but i guess, that's kinda not true. cause that would be my third time falling in love at first sight."

"why, though? three times? i mean, i don't think i'm ugly or anything but three times? yeah, i mean i guess i kinda also had a thing for you after those two nights. god. i wish i remembered what we talked about for us to get this attached," you say, mumbling the last part. dongmin turns to you somewhat confused, watching you as you open up the bento box he'd bought you.

"you don't remember what we talked about? besides the black holes and stuff?"

"nope. but i've also got a horrible reputation amongst my friends for how much i talked about you. the worst part is that i remembered you but not what we talked about. it was so stupid because no one believed me that han dongmin, yonsei's point guard was the guy i'd had my heart for the past year." you instinctively smile the moment you take a bite of the food and even though it's so small, dongmin's heart swells with pride.

"why didn't you ever come up to me? i mean, this whole year of pining could've been avoided if you'd talked to me," dongmin says, accepting the ice cream bar you handed him. how the hell did you know that was his favorite ice cream?

"i gave you my number once, and i kissed you twice. i figured you were just ghosting me at some point if you weren't going to reach out to me. and besides, nursing really picked up right after basketball season so...i kinda just ended up torturing my friends for the past year," you say, somewhat sheepishly, but dongmin is barely even listening anymore.

after all, how many people can say that they fell in love at first sight with the same person three times?

"well. we're here now. will you go out with me? i promise i won't even touch a 4lokos!"

"deal. as long as you promise to tell me everything we talked about that night. i still can't tell why i fell so hard for you that i chased you down a basketball court in front of your whole team."

"my stellar looks? my killer smile? my stupidly handsome personality? my superb basketball skills?"

"try your stupid attraction to water molecules."

"i have a feeling i shouldn't have told you about that."

+++

freshman year, spring semester.

"really? you've never fallen in love before?" you ask incredulously. you and dongmin are sitting on the balcony of some random friend who decided to throw a party, feet dangling over the edges in between the bars.

"nah. i don't think so," dongmin says, leaning backwards on his palms. "i don't think i've ever met someone who's ever made me feel like my entire heart is their's to do whatever they want to do with."

"then let's play this game," you say, clumsily pulling out your phone. "that one thing on new york times, where you fall in love with someone within 36 questions."

"why? you want me to fall in love with you?" dongmin says, leaning over with a cheeky smile. you push him playfully, focused on trying to pull up the questions list.

"you'd do that whether i told you to or not," you fire back. "and besides, i think i'm a fantastic kisser. so you're probably already in love."

"you're right," dongmin says with a sigh. "i think i am."

freshman year, fall semester.

"question 36. i can't believe we never finished all the questions last time," you say. this time the two of you are sitting so close, dongmin can still taste the watermelon chapstick you're wearing. at this point though, dongmin might as well be the one wearing it.

"to be fair, last time i think we were otherwise preoccupied."

"get your mind out of the gutter!"

"i was talking about how many times you kept getting distracted by the dog."

"anyway. we're on question 36; are you in love with me yet?"

"i should be asking you that. i've been in love."

"han dongmin! i thought you weren't the superstitious type?"

"i'll be whatever you want me to be."

[johnbrand]

Where Would You Rather Be?

“You know I love you right?” Malcolm reaffirmed his boyfriend. “And I’m here for you.”

It had been a difficult week for Shane. He had lived in the city for almost ten years now, having moved originally for college and then sticking around after graduation. It had been a scary transition, but thanks to the quick friends he had made, the journey was easier.

One of them, Shane’s freshman roommate who he had lived with and then nearby since they had first met, had received an eviction notice the week prior. Shane had been as supportive as he could through the entire process, but watching his dear friend pack up and leave was stressful. His friend would now be living hours away, no longer right next door.

Shane nodded his head, followed by a quick “Thank you.”

“I’m happy to be the shoulder you can cry on, I know this is hard,” Malcolm sympathized. “Would you still like to go out for dinner tonight? We can cancel plans if you need some time.”

“No, no I’ll be fine,” Shane smiled a bit. “Plus it’s our third anniversary–you’ve done more than your fair share and I'm thankful for that.”

Malcolm chuckled, quickly grabbing Shane from the behind, “Then perhaps you’ll have to show your gratitude later tonight.”

Rolling his eyes, Shane gave his boyfriend a soft peck before departing back for his apartment. After climbing a few flights of stairs, he was surprised to find the door to his friend’s former apartment wide open. Curious, Shane swung his head in, noticing boxes and other assorted items sprawled across the otherwise empty space. Before he could investigate further, a voice from behind ordered him to move aside.

“Get out of the way, bro!”

The rich baritone caught Shane by so much of a surprise that he visibly jumped a bit, scurrying as a large figure stomped through the doorway before dropping a few boxes down. At least above six feet tall, the buff, masculine intruder immediately intimidated Shane. 

“Mind being useful and helping me grab the rest of my stuff?” the man asked. Shane, a bit petrified by the pure masculinity in front of him, did not utter a word. The man did not need his response however, knowing Shane would help him in whatever means necessary. Shane could not explain what had come over him, his mouth unable to formulate words as cardboard boxes were dropped into his waiting arms. Before he knew it, two hours had gone by and everything had been brought into the man’s apartment.

“Martin,” the mysterious man finally offered his name, alongside a giant meaty mitt that crushed Shane’s. “Are you my new neighbor?”

“Uh…yeah,” Shane finally spoke, pointing to the wall that their apartments would share. 

“Cool bro,” Martin replied. “Wanna go sit out on the balcony with me for a bit?”

Martin checked his watch, noting that there was still a little time before he had to get ready for his dinner date. “Sure.” Following the muscular alpha outside, Shane took a seat on the wicker couch as he waited for Martin to grab himself a drink. He did his best to schedule out the remaining amount of his free time, and to finally register how hot his face was. 

“Sit over there,” Martin directed as he stepped onto the balcony. Shane did not stop himself from getting up and moving aside so Martin could sit on the couch. It was not until he had moved to the other side of the coffee table that Shane realized that Martin wanted him to sit on the deck.

“That’s right, faggot,” Martin responded, noticing Shane’s confusion. “Sit in front of my feet.”

Shane was shocked, offended by his neighbor’s sudden bigotry. Yet he did as he was instructed, taking his seat in front of the two massive soles that were placed in front of him. 

“You got any plans tonight, fag?” Martin questioned. 

In a flustered, embarrassed, and strangely lustful state, Shane answered, “Yes, I have an anniversary dinner with my boyfriend.”

Martin snickered. “And when is that?”

“I should start getting ready in 10 minutes,” Shane’s response was robotic. “I’ve got to shower, get dressed, wrap my present, and then travel.”

Martin considered this for a while, basking in the fact that Shane would await his next prompt. Shane could smell the man before him, Martin’s natural musk and body odor holding an authority over him like nothing else had ever before.

“Let me offer you a deal, faggot,” Martin finally said. “You can leave now, get ready and go have a great night with your loving boyfriend. Or you can stay seated exactly where you are, at the feet of a straight man, waiting for my next command and praying that I let you service me through whatever means possible.”

Shane did not reply, shocked by what Martin was insinuating. With casual indifference, Martin wiggled his casual toes in front of Shane, knowing the silence was already his answer. But in true alpha fashion, Martin made sure to drive his superiority home.

“Where would you rather be, faggot?”

They remained there without uttering a word: Martin laidback, comfortable, and minding his own business, and Shane at his feet. Neither got up as time ticked past. In his head, Shane’s plans slowly altered. He did not need to wrap Malcolm's present, he did not need to shower, he did not even need to change. But eventually, the anniversary dinner came and went, and Shane was still at the feet of the straight man.

Shane could only hope that someday Malcolm would understand that their relationship would never have been as fulfilling as one with a straight man's feet.

[vidals-harkness]

i’ll come back to you (lilia calderu)

summary: lilia meets agatha, and has to convinve you--her inexhaustible 'stray' baby witch--to allow her, before she embarks on a journey to the witch's road.

fic type: angst/fluff

pairings: lilia calderu x fem!child!reader (family)

warnings: reader invading agatha's personal space, some crying, so much soft lilia you might just weep <3

word count: 1.4k

Afternoons in the sleepy town of Westview were very often uneventful.

A gentle breeze carded through the curtains, ruffling the papers on the table, eviction notice included. The birds twittered faintly outside, along the cars which rolled past with a steady, quiet rumble. The windchimes jingled softly, caught in the wind's dance, the suncatchers on the windows casting tiny rainbows on the hardwood floors.

The kettle rattled as you kept an eye on it like Lilia had asked. Beside it, a pot stood full of dinner--contents of it long gone cold.

Through the quaint shop in the front, you heard a jingle. You reached up and switched off the kettle, following Lilia as she took her place through the beaded curtain.

The front room, or, the shop, was lit with candles, Lilia's magic keeping them from overheating the place. The scent of essential oils and incense was strong, but comforting. You took your place beside the nearby shelves, ready to help Lilia.

"Welcome to the curious," she said mystically as two people--a boy and a woman who had a strange energy around her. You didn't like it. Or rather it took you longer than usual to get used to it.

"Good day, madam," said the woman in a thick Southern accent. "Oh, thank you so much for seein' us,"

"You look strange," you admitted, coming up to her and touching her shawl.

"Y/n, sweet little, if you could please step away," Lilia smiled, noting the look of scorn and disgust on Agatha's face as she yanked the shawl out of your grasp. Trying to quell the situation, she added, "Don't mind my apprentice, she is young, a bit too curious sometimes,"

"That'll get her in a few spats," Agatha muttered, hissing at you like a cat, making you frown.

"Y/n, can you go out back, find me my special deck of tarot cards?” Lilia smiled, looking at you pointedly.

You nodded immediately, rushing out back to find the special deck--the one which felt like her, the one which made you feel safe.

"Miss L--huh?" You skipped back to the reading room, to find her nowhere to be seen.

You heard pained yelling from the kitchen and saw her--golden aura around her head like a halo, making you concerned. You hurried over, tugging at her sleeve for her attention.

"Miss Lilia," you whispered, poking her slightly. "It's just your mind, it's making up silly stuff,"

She took a deep breath, smiling down at you. "You're such a darling, sweet little," she chuckled.

"So you’re a bit of a kook. Every witch has their process," Agatha butted in. "You showed some real skill out there,"

"I didn’t read your fortune. I read your reputation," Lilia said, turning to her, placing a hand on your chest to push you behind her protectively. "Witches like you are the reason people think we poison apples, and steal children, and eat babies,"

"You eat babies, Miss Lilia?" You gasped, looking up at her, tiny brows furrowed with worry.

Her nose scrunched a bit as she smiled and shook her head. "No, sweet little, I don't,"

"I do," said Agatha. "Babies are delicious,"

"Ugh," Lilia groaned, going over to the stove to start with dinner.

You went over to Agatha where she sat on the sofa, poking at her inquisitively. "I've never met a baby-eating witch before..."

The chaos witch made a face at you. Despite her ease around children, you made her regret ever having an affinity towards them. "No, shoo, get away," she said, flicking your nose.

"Ow!" You exclaimed, pushing her shoulder.

"Y/n," Lilia warned without turning around. "What did I say about space?"

Agatha made that hissing noise at you again, which you countered with a blown raspberry before you stood next to Lilia again.

"How old are you? 410? 415?" Agatha asked, giving the older witch a once-over.

She turned sharply, offended. "How dare you?"

"Oh, I apologize," she chuckled in return. "You don’t look a day under 450,"

"Years old?" Teen asked, baffled.

"Mhm, Miss Lilia is very old," you nodded at him, which earned you a sharp but gentle smack upside the head.

"You get, what, maybe two suckers a day in here, and 20 bucks later, you’re sitting on a bed that’s also your wall," Agatha pointed out, her hand gesturing at the bed you and LIlia shared. Which, to be honest, was indeed a bed that was also a wall.

Agatha stood up, trying her hardest to convince her. "Don’t you miss the glory days?"

"When I was chased out of every village I passed through for accurately predicting tragedy?" Lilia asked, heading towards the kitchen. "No, I do not. Beat it, Harkness,"

"Yeah, beat it, Harkness," you said, crossing your arms to give Agatha a once-over.

"Tell your familiar to watch it," Agatha snapped.

"Absolutely not, you heard her," Lilia scoffed. "Beat it,"

"I’m gonna walk The Road," she finally admitted.

"The Road is a death wish,"

"I survived,"

"Yeah? Where’s your power now?"

A beat passed. She'd hit a nerve.

"Time to restock," she countered finally. "I need a Divination Witch,"

"Are you honestly asking me to coven up with the single most infamous witch on this continent?" Lilia laughed.

"Oh, please. Name a badder bitch in South America, or Europe," Teen said, crossing his arms.

Lilia gave him a look, scrutinising him. "Who is this child?"

Before he could reply, Agatha butted in. "My pet. This is my pet. Say hi, pet,"

Looking like he'd have rather swallowed nails, he sighed, "Hi,"

"Hi, pet!" You smiled, giving him a high-five.

"Y/n, sweet little, why don't you go play outside?" Lilia asked, patting your head gently, her gaze fixated on Agatha's.

You huffed, but nevertheless obeyed, grabbing a stick to play with as you went outside of the shop to play in the empty street outside.

Eventually, Agatha left with a disgruntled hiss at you, which you again countered with a raspberry, stomping back inside.

The candles were dimmed, and there came the sounds of Lilia singing soft Sicilian love songs in the kitchen. The pot bubbled, the refrigerator hummed, the lights buzzed and flickered.

"Sweet little, would you be a dear and set the table for me, please?" Lilia asked with a soft smile, turning to you, her song ceasing momentarily.

You nodded, grabbing the plate for yourself and placing it on the table. You sensed a variation in her energy, and asked, "Miss Lilia, why was Miss Harkness asking about the Witch's Road?"

Lilia paused, plating up the pasta she'd made. Her expression was thoughtful as she sat, handing you a fork.

"Well...Miss Agatha needs me for a sort of...plan that she has," she explained as you started to eat.

"Why does she need you?" You asked, swinging your legs a little as you ate happily.

Lilia's heart swelled--such an adorable thing you were, and she'd have to leave it behind. She didn't want to, but she had to.

"The process to begin the plan involves me, sweet little," she said, standing up as you did, too, plate in hand.

"You're super important then," you said, yawning a little. Afternoon nap time.

"Mhm," she hummed, scooping you up in her arms, grinning aas you squealed. "Super important,"

"I think that's so cool, Miss Lilia," you giggled softly.

"Problem is, sweet little, I'll be gone for some time," she whispered, laying down with you in bed, you flat on your b ack while she lay on her side, head propped up on her fist.

Your heart stopped. "G-Gone?" You whimpered, hand coming up to grip her shawl. "I don't want you gone,"

Her heart broke. "I know my little dove," she said, stroking your hair soothingly. "But I'll be back before you know it, I promise."

"No, no, no," you shook your head, tears streaming down your soft cheeks. "You're not gonna go!"

Lilia was quick to pull you close, your head on her chest as she soothed you by rubbing your back in gentle circles. "I have to go, sweet little, but don't fret, I'll come back..."

"But--but--" you began to protest, but her voice was firm.

"I will return to you," she said. "Have I ever broken my promise?"

You sniffled and shook your head. "N-No, Miss Lilia,"

"Have I ever lied?" She asked, making you face her, one hand wiping your tears.

You shook your head again. "N-No, Miss Lilia..."

"Precisely," she chuckled, kissing your forehead. "I'll come back to you, I promise,"

You nodded, eyes drooping as she rocked you to sleep, your worries washing away slowly as the tide of drowsiness dragged them away. One thought was what kept you content, one simple thought.

She'll come back to you.

hi my bao buns! jace here! i'm so sorry i've been mia for so long, but i'm back now! i would like to thank my anon bao buns as well as @lilia-caldareyou and @evildin0saur for motivating me to write again <3 thank you all!

love, jace

[estrellami-1]

Worth It

Listen.

Steve can deal with a lot, okay? He’s taken on Russian soldiers and interdimensional monsters and Billy fucking Hargrove, for Christ’s sake.

He’s strong and capable and he knows that. He does. Okay?

So the spider in the shower isn’t why he fell, tearing down the shower curtain in the process. Of course not.

Except… maybe it is.

And it’s not like spiders remind him of the Mind Flayer. They don’t, and he knows that’s done and over with. Henry’s dead and the gates are sealed. So that’s not it.

It’s just… spiders.

He hates them. He doesn’t really have a reason. There’s no traumatic childhood story. They’re just creepy and they freak him the fuck out.

He’s thankful he’s alone in his house, because having someone run up and see him sprawled on the floor, dick out, because of a spider would actually make this the worst day of his life.

So he’s safe this time. He was mostly finished with his shower anyways, so he grabs his towel and dries off in his room, but.

But.

Who’s to say the spider won’t crawl into his room? Into his bed? Who’s to say it won’t just follow him around the house, turning up on the couch cushion next to him, or on the coffeemaker.

His breath stutters in his chest.

No. He needs this spider gone. And he needs to be sure it’s gone for good. He has to kill it.

Come on. Come on. He killed demogorgons and demodogs and bit a demobat’s head off. He can kill a spider.

He gets dressed. Grabs a shoe.

Stalls on the edge, where the carpet meets the vinyl.

He steps back, paces around, charges at the bathroom.

Stalls on the edge, where the carpet meets the vinyl.

Come on, he thinks. “Come on,” he says. It’s just a spider.

It’s not like he’s gonna call anyone. Everyone he knows wouldn’t be able to stop laughing long enough to help him.

Except…

“‘Lo?” Eddie says.

“Eddie,” Steve says.

He can hear the smile in Eddie’s voice when he speaks next. “Hey, Steve. What’s up?”

“Um,” Steve says. “Are you busy?” His voice sounds high, thready. Anxious.

A pause. “Is everything okay?”

Steve blows out a breath. “I- I need help, okay, and you’re the only one who I think wouldn’t immediately laugh at me. Can- can you come over?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, still concerned. “Yeah, of course, I’ll be right over.”

He is. Steve spends his time waiting on the edge of the bathroom, running downstairs when Eddie knocks.

“Hey,” he says, trying and failing to make it sound like everything’s fine.

“Hey.” Eddie’s brows are furrowed. “What’s wrong? What do you need help with?”

Steve huffs out a stressed laugh, running fingers through his hair and tightening, pulling for a second. “Listen, I know this is- it’s embarrassing, okay, I know it is, I’ve- I’ve survived so much worse, and I know realistically it probably can’t even hurt me, but.” He bites his lip. Can’t look at Eddie. Leads him upstairs instead, stops at the threshold to the bathroom. “There’s a spider,” he mutters.

Eddie looks into the bathroom. Sees the curtain and puddle of water on the floor. Puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder, squeezes slightly. “Stay here,” he murmurs. “Where is it?”

“In the shower. Corner.” His eyes squeeze shut. “I- I know it’s nothing. But… be safe.”

“Hey.” Eddie nudges his arm. Steve opens his eyes. Eddie’s right in front of him, smiling softly, brows still furrowed a little. Worried for Steve. “Would it be better for you if you were out of the room?”

He thinks about it. Shakes his head. Eddie smiles, nods, and steps into the bathroom.

The door is blocking Steve’s view, but he can hear Eddie just fine.

“Hey, little mister,” Eddie says. “Listen, I know the bathroom’s a cool place, but you pervin’ on him isn’t really gonna fly with either of us. Sorry, but you’re getting evicted.” His boots stomp around, grabbing toilet paper, before moving back over to the shower. “Sorry,” he says again, before a light thump reverberates through the room. Steve feels it in his chest.

Eddie flushes it, washes his hands, and smiles at Steve. “Want me to check for more anywhere?”

Steve shakes his head, wraps his arms around himself. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Eddie promises. He nods to the shower curtain. “Did you fall? Or just pull it down?”

Steve shakes his head. “Fell.”

“Are you okay? Any bumps or scratches anywhere?”

Steve blinks, takes stock. “Um. My- elbow, I guess, but it’s just a bruise.”

Eddie smiles, extends a hand. Stops before he touches Steve. “Mind if I check?”

Steve wordlessly holds his arm out. Eddie gently prods his elbow, feeling around. He smiles at Steve again. He’s still holding on. “All good,” he murmurs. “Anything else you need? I don’t mind looking around.”

Steve shakes his head. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t- I don’t need that. Can I thank you with a beer?”

“If you want to, sure, but I’m willing to call this a favor for a friend.” He inclines his head. “Mind grabbing it for me? I’m just gonna look around in here for a minute, make sure none of his buddies got in.” When Steve hesitates, Eddie puts his knuckles to Steve’s chin. “Hey,” he says softly. “I’ll be fine. How about you get us both a beer and sit in the living room. By the time you do that, I’ll be downstairs. Okay?”

“Okay,” Steve murmurs. “Thank you.”

Eddie chuckles, steps away. “Anytime, Stevie. Now out!” He cries, shooing Steve out of his own room, shutting the door behind him for good measure.

Steve laughs, walks downstairs. He’s still a little on edge, but he doesn’t see another spider.

Eddie’s true to his word; he’s been sitting on the couch for about a minute by the time Eddie comes thundering down the stairs. “My liege!” He exclaims, coming to kneel before Steve. “I hereby proclaim your quarters to be pest-free!”

Steve laughs. “My hero,” he says dryly, sitting forward to tap Eddie on both his shoulders with his beer. “I, uh, hereby proclaim you Sir Spider Killer.”

Eddie grins up at him, takes his beer, and sits on the couch next to Steve. “Do me a favor?”

Steve hums.

“You ever see one again, and you wanna call someone. You can call me.”

“I shouldn’t need that-”

“Shouldn’t or otherwise, you do,” Eddie tells him. “And I’d like to make your life easier if I can. So if that means coming over here and taking care of any creepy-crawlies that find their way in, then that’s that. I will, and I’ll do so gladly.”

Steve looks away, picks at the label of his beer. “Why do you care?”

“Because you’re worth it,” Eddie whispers. “You deserve it.”

Steve shuts his eyes. “What if you’re the only person who thinks that?”

“I’m not,” Eddie says immediately. “And Robin would probably inflict bodily harm on you if she knew you were talking like this. But even if I am… that doesn’t make it less true. It’s still true. You still deserve it. You’re still worth it. Not because of anything you’ve done, or who you are. It’s just because you are.”

Steve sighs out a shaky breath. “Okay,” he whispers. “If you say so.”

“I do.” He squeezes Steve’s shoulder. “Now, the only question is, what are we going to watch?”

[oxo3xx0]

PART TWO

Okay I lowkey hate this but I'll keep updating it until I finish the show and can come up with a better storyline🙏

Its been a little while since you last met gojo and medumi, during that time you'd moved into the jujutsu high dorms after being forcefully evicted (literally thrown out by your landlord) and secured a position as yuji itadoris mentor. You see, the real reason gojo had wanted you to come back to the school was so that you could help to train and manage Sukunas vessel, when you were first told the news you actually laughed in gojos face, there was really no way sukuna was living inside a 16 year old boy right?

"Just this way" gojo said, smiling as he led you down a set of stairs and into a basement. "You see a while ago sukuna ripped out yujis heart, but he later repaired it" your eyes widen a little at this news, sukuna saved someone? That's actually laughable "your joking right? Why would sukuna ever help anyone but himself?" Your question was rhetorical obviously but gojo replied nonetheless. "Because he needs a vessel now, if he wanted to he could've let yuji die and just waited for someone else to eat one of his fingers." "He ate his fin-" your words were cut off as you reach the bottom of the stairs and gojo slams open the door to the basement. "We're back!" He says with a smile as he beckons yuji to step forward to meet you, however the only thing he's greeted with is your Face that was contorted into absolute disgust. "No way you ate someone's mumified finger.." were your first words to him as he stared at you with wide unblinking eyes.

After that unfortunate first impression gojo introduced you and explained why yuji was hidden down here in the fist place. "So the people in charge want him dead? Thats messed up" you said with crossed arms as you sat on the couch next to gojo and yuji, some weird old movie playing in the background. "Indeed, thats why I need you to look after him for me, not only dose he need help controlling sukuna but he's being targeted too" gojo explains with a stern expression, the tension in the air was thick as you processed the gravity of this situation, however yuji was still struggling to understand. "Gojo who is this weird lady? How's she gonna help with sukuna??" he whispers to gojo as he covers his mouth to prevent you from hearing, however it didn't really change anything as he was basically still talking at a normal volume. "[Name] is a jujutsu sorcerer, well kind of, she's technically still a student since she never finished her training" gojo 'whispers' back to yuji.

You cleared your throat as you turned to look at them with an unimpressed expression before sighing and explaining why gojo wanted you specifically to help him. "My cursed technique, its called spiritual control, you see these tattoos? They were made from the ashes of a cursed spirit, and with my technique I can manipulate them" you explain briefly as you point to your serpentine body art and a look of shock graces yujis face "so.. your a vessel to??" He asks with impossibly wide eyes before smiling widley and grasping your hands "thank you so much for coming to help me! I was starting to think people would only ever think of me as sukunas vessel! But if your also a vessel and a jujutsu sorcerer then it's not that bad right?" He asks hopefully, poor kid, I bet some people don't even think of him as a person anymore. Just sukunas host. "Hold on now yuji, don't forget the cursed spirit who lives inside you is he king of curses, despite being similar you two still have many differences" gojo says as yuji nods in understanding and let's go of your hands to cross them over his chest "I guess I'll just have to work harder then! To become a sorcerer and to let people know they can trust me." Your heart clenches at the sentiment, this poor kid still thinks he'll live long enough to become a sorcerer. Just the thought of his kind mentality being crushed by the countless perils he will endure is enough to make you feel ill. But he doesn't need to worry, your here now, and your here to stay.

After your first meeting with itadori you were informed of the sisters school event which would be happening soon, and that you wouldn't be directly introduced to the other students until the day it began. Well that was the plan anyway, you were walking up to your sleeping quarters when that same boy from when you first saw gojo stepped inront of you. "Its you, why are you here?" He asks with a stern expression, he doesn't seem too pleased to have you living near him.

Thank you for reading

[gravitysgone]

My daughter. I guess I need to sort of explain what happened. So we got evicted. It was a straight forward eviction I didn't contest. I had my role in it. And cannot put it all on the landlord. But they wanted me out so they could bomb the house for bugs and stuff to try to sell it. Still I had a hand in it, I stopped paying rent about when I was told they would be going forward with the eviction. I was stupid and thought I could use that money and win more money online gambling and then just buy us into a place...I know, I am stupid. I did the dumb. And so it goes. I had time and the ability to search for a place. And might have even found one. It would have required a huge effort and the drive to keep bugging people and remaining visible. But it became pretty clear when my then 16 year old daughter asked me to get her alcohol and I did. Then she asked if I could order her cannabis vapes....and I did. Then it became quickly apparent she wasn't going to be worried about my response to her missing class or staying out too late. I had become a sort of shadow. I was not being the parent I needed to be. That she needed me to be. It was basically parenting lite. And she needed parenting extra strength. On top of that I had faded into a sort of madness and depression and wasn't cleaning or caring about caring for the apartment. I was just...gone. Then there was the medical stuff. I was diagnosed with ankylosing spondylitis, a bone disease that has my hips and spine and ribs fusing and crushing nerves in the process. It creates spinal arthritis and hurts like hell. Plus a bad heart and blood pressure and then an auto-immune disorder that causes my nerves to make red bumps on different areas that itch like hell. I was in bad shape and absolutely not present. Add to that the money and food situation from being on disability. It was a mess for her. I had a moment of clarity and it was devastating. So it was decided she would go live with her grandmother. Her mother's mother (my parents are dead). And it was made to happen much faster than I even expected. She spent much of the last week with her friends and I spent it bawling and planning a suicide. She left and I floundered for a bit.

Somehow I was connected with this place and the nice old lady who owns the house. And the suicide ebbed. I used to judge people who let their kids be raised by other people. I thought it was selfish and they were just not as determined to be a parent as I was. I was very wrong. Sometimes the best parenting decision is knowing when to step back and away. As hokey and talk showy as that sounds. Or at least I tell myself in moments where I see it clearly.

At times when I am sad and feel depressed. I feel like I betrayed her and I am wracked with guilt and shame. The truth is she is going to be better supported and cared for at her grandmother's than she ever could with me. And there is discipline and boundaries there. Plus her grandma is financially stable and married and she and her wife can give Ruby the things she needs. I don't like her grandma and she doesn't like me. But those things are irrelevant. It is just best for my daughter. I don't know when I will see her again and getting her to text back is like pulling teeth, so it's very sad for me sometimes. But that is to be expected I suppose. I also know for some people she is framing it very differently than the reality. Telling them I kicked her out and abandoned her. Which hurts my heart. But I understand why. It's not for me to tell her how to feel or to tell it. She has now had both parents move her. It's a lot for any kid to deal with. I didn't abandon her. I made a choice I thought was best for her. I just hope someday she understands, or at least sees it for what it was. So there it is. In long form and too many words. I am not sure how others feel about this. Hell, I don't know how I feel about this. I just know she is going to be better off now. And that is what matters most.

[brokebonewritings]

All My Battles

Matt Murdock x Reader

Tags: 18+, fluff, slight hurt/comfort, making a home

Summary: A trip back to Bar Harbor creates a summer a new memories as you and Matt renovate your childhood home into a place to spend your future summers. Song: Lover, You Should've Come Over by Jeff Buckley

Word Count: 3K

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“Don’t worry! We will make sure both your apartments are safe and sound!”

“And we promise no major ragers while you’re away!” Foggy quickly said after Karen’s initial reassurance.

“Ha Ha, You’re hilarious.” You say with a deadpan expression.

Both you and Matt were packing for the summer to go up to your childhood home and fill it with your own furniture. Thanks to your wonderful team of attorneys, you were able to expedite the paperwork of signing the house over to your name.

It was a long battle, but your mom was out of the house at the beginning of the summer. Though it didn't come without a fight. She was very slow at moving the process along until you finally sent Foggy up to Maine with eviction papers.

"I just can't believe it's finally over!" You sigh as you close the trunk of your car.

"I'll drink to that, serving your mom that eviction notice was the best theatrics I've seen in a while, and Marci took me to see Phantom of the Opera last week!"

All three of you laugh, as you wait to finish locking up his apartment. You see him step onto the sidewalk and make his way towards the group.

"Okay, ready to go?" He asks.

"Yep, I just closed the trunk so we're all good here."

Karen is the first to step forward and give you both a big hug. Foggy being the last and stepping away with tears in his eyes.

"Don't you forget about us here in the Big Apple." He says tearfully.

"I'll miss you most of all, Scarecrow." You respond playfully.

The man wipes his metaphorical tears, and turns to Karen. "She thinks I'm a Scarecrow."

"Yeah, probably the lack of brains." She snarks.

"Hey!"

This earns another group laugh, as you and Matt get into the car. It was going to be a long summer, but it would be worth it. You get to redecorate your family home, even though you thought the previous decoration was perfect. Your mom took most of the furniture when she moved.

As the car pulls out of the city, leaving behind the familiar hustle and bustle, a sense of sadness fills you. "So, any ideas on what we should do with the place?" you asked, eager to hear his thoughts.

"You're asking the blindman for decoration advice?" He smirks, which pulls a giggle from your chest. 

"Well this is gonna be our summer home, so I just want to get an opinion of someone who will be spending every year there."

Matt paused for a moment, his fingers tapping rhythmically on his knee as he contemplated. "Well," he began, "I think we should start by repainting the walls. I know your favorite color is orange."

"You remembered my favorite color?" 

"Of course, maybe a soft shade of blue to give it a more serene atmosphere."

You nodded, imagining how the color would transform the space. "And what about the furniture? I know we'll have to buy new pieces, but do you have any specific style in mind?"

"God, just anything without plastic wrap on it." He laughs.

You laugh along with him. "You really hated sitting on that couch."

"It was an overstimulation nightmare."

"Yeah, well, no more plastic-wrapped nightmares," you reply with a grin. "We'll find something comfortable and stylish."

As the two of you continue to discuss ideas for the house, you feel the excitement building up inside you. This summer was going to be a fresh start, not just in terms of your living situation but also in your relationship with Matt. It had been a long journey to get to this point, but now that you were finally together, everything felt right.

The landscape outside transforms from towering skyscrapers to vast green fields and rolling hills. It's as if the world itself is mirroring the sense of calm and new beginnings you feel in your heart.

With the passing hours, you make sure to stop frequently so that you both stretch your legs. Soon enough you enter the Bar Harbor limits and begin to recognize your surroundings. 

As you approach your childhood home, memories flood back — running through the fields, chasing fireflies on warm summer nights, and sitting on the front porch with your dad and a big cup of iced tea.

The familiar sight of the white picket fence and the old oak tree in the front yard is a relief to see. It hasn't changed much since you were last here, except for the overgrown grass and faded paint on the house. But that's all about to change.

You and Matt step out of the car, taking a moment to breathe in the crisp sea air. The scent of wildflowers and fresh pine brings a smile to your face. This place holds so many precious memories, and now it's time to make new ones.

"I can't believe we're finally here," you say, your voice filled with wonder.

Matt reaches out to take your hand, his touch grounding you in this moment. "Ready to get to work?" He asks and you reply with a soft 'yes'.

Together, you approach the front door, pulling out the key and inserting it into the lock. The door creaks open as you step inside, dust particles dancing in the sunlight streaming through the large bay windows.

As you make your way from room to room, deciding on furniture layouts and discussing which pieces to buy, the house starts to feel like home. Matt's fingers glide over the surfaces as he senses the textures and dimensions, his uncanny ability to visualize the space turning into an invaluable asset.

The next day you and Matt set to work immediately, armed with paintbrushes and a vision for transforming the old house into your dream summer retreat. The walls soon shed their faded colors and come alive with the soft shade of orange you chose. The air is filled with the scent of fresh paint, invigorating and promising.

Days turn into weeks as you tackle each room with determination. The living room is filled with cozy furniture, perfect for curling up together with a book or watching movies on lazy afternoons. The kitchen becomes a vibrant space, adorned with colorful tiles and filled with the aroma of delicious meals being cooked. And the bedrooms become sanctuaries, personalized with photographs and cherished little touches.

As the final touches are being made, you and Matt stand back to admire your handiwork. The transformation is remarkable, a testament to the love and care you poured into this project. The summer home now radiates warmth and comfort, a haven from the outside world.

You begin to cry as you both stand in the middle of the parlor. Matt's arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you into a tight hug. It was all finally done, and you couldn't feel the overwhelming sense of sadness. The very same you felt as you left the city.

"It's alright, sweetheart. I got you." He whispers as you continue to sob.

You hold onto Matt, feeling his steady presence anchoring you amidst the waves of emotion. The tears flow freely, a mixture of relief, joy, and a bittersweet longing for the old memories that haunted these walls. You couldn't wait to bring your friends and family here in the future summers, and make new memories that were happier than the old.

After a while, the tears subside, and you sniffle, wiping away your damp cheeks with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," you murmur against his chest.

He pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face gently. "There's nothing to apologize for," he says softly. 

You nod, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. "You're right." You pause, feeling a surge of love radiating from the man in front of you.

"We made it," he says softly, his voice filled with reassurance. "We turned this house into our own little sanctuary."

"I love you," you whisper, burying your face in Matt's chest.

He holds you tighter, his heartbeat reverberating through your body. "I love you too," he replies.

That night you decide to have a picnic on the porch. You turn on the fairy lights, and set the radio to the local classic rock station. As you set up outside, Matt was in the kitchen preparing the meal you both were going to enjoy. Everything was perfect.

As twilight settles in, casting a soft golden glow over the porch, you light a few candles and spread out a cozy blanket. The scent of freshly cut grass mingles with the aroma of the meal Matt has prepared, creating an intoxicating symphony for your senses.

After dinner, you both clean and decide to stay outside for the rest of the evening and bask in the romantic setting you had set up. He notes that he forgot to bring the best part of dinner and runs back inside to grab dessert.

Matt emerges from the kitchen, carrying a basket filled with delicious treats. He carefully sets the basket down and joins you on the blanket, wrapping his arm around you.

"This is amazing," he whispers, his voice filled with awe.

You lean into him, feeling the warmth of his presence enveloping you. "I wanted to create this special moment for us," you say softly, your gaze fixed on the flickering lights.

The two of you spend the evening laughing and reminiscing, savoring each bite of food and each tender moment shared. As the night deepens, you find yourselves lost in conversation under a sky sprinkled with constellations.

Matt's fingers trace patterns on your arm, creating a soothing rhythm that matches the cadence of your conversation. You pause for a moment, overcome by a wave of gratitude. Gratitude for this beautiful night, for the love that fills your heart, and for the journey that has brought you here. You lean in closer to Matt, resting your head on his shoulder.

"I never imagined we would be here," you say softly, your voice filled with wonder. "Creating a home together, filled with love and happiness."

Matt squeezes your hand gently. "Life has a funny way of surprising us," he replies, his voice laced with sincerity. "And I'm grateful for every twist and turn that led us here."

As the hours pass, you find yourselves lost in conversation, delving into topics ranging from childhood dreams to future aspirations. Each word exchanged deepens your connection, solidifying the bond you've built over the years.

Eventually, the conversation mellows into comfortable silence, yet the electricity in the air remains tangible. You nestle closer to each other under the blanket, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours. With every passing second, it becomes clearer that this is where you're meant to be.

You look up at Matt, gently grabbing his chin and pulling him in for a kiss. As your lips meet, a surge of warmth courses through your veins. The kiss is gentle yet filled with a quiet intensity, a beautiful reflection of the bond you share. Time seems to stand still as you savor the taste of his lips, the feeling of his arms wrapped around you.

When the kiss deepens, you feel a sense of belonging and contentment settle within you. Under the soft glow of the moon, you and Matt continue to share sweet, lingering kisses, each one filled with an unspoken promise.

Eventually you both feel the exhaustion from the long work day, and decide to head inside for the night. Matt is the first one to head inside and as you pick up the blanket and turn off the lights on the porch. 

You linger long enough for Matt to come back out and wrap his arms around your waist and kiss your neck lightly. "We have a lifetime of moments like this ahead of us," he says softly. "Come inside now."

Nodding, you follow him back inside for the night. Inside, the house is bathed in a soft, inviting glow. The scent of freshly painted walls lingers in the air, a gentle reminder of the transformation you both undertook together.

Matt leads you upstairs to the bedroom, where the moonlight spills through the open curtains, casting ethereal shadows on the hardwood floor. He pulls back the covers and invites you to slide into bed. You nestle against the plush pillows and feel the weight of the day slowly melt away.

As Matt joins you under the covers, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. His touch is gentle yet possessive, a silent affirmation of his love for you. The room feels hushed, as if it holds its breath in reverence for the intimacy shared between two souls.

You close your eyes, letting the tranquility of the moment wash over you. The sound of your steady breaths fills the room, creating a soothing rhythm that lulls you closer to sleep.

The day before you leave is filled with eventful commotion as you invite some of your neighbors over for a small barbecue. You and Matt spend the morning setting up the backyard, draping string lights across the trees and arranging tables and chairs.

The aroma of grilled burgers and vegetables fills the air as the food sizzles on the barbecue. You decided to man the grill to give Matt a break from all the cooking he insisted on doing. The neighbors arrive one by one, carrying dishes to share. Laughter and conversation fill the backyard as everyone gathers around, sharing stories and exchanging smiles.

Another car begins to pull into your driveway, and you realize who it is before you see the two figures step out of the vehicle.

"No fucking way" You say as you turn to Matt who has a huge smile spread across his face.

"I called them last night when you went out to pick up dinner." He replies.

You start sprinting towards the car as Foggy steps out and walks around the car. Once he sees you running, he mutters an 'Oh shit' as you jump into his arms. He catches you and spins you a bit before setting you down. You give a gentler hug to Karen.

"I can't believe you guys drove all the way out here!" You say happily.

"We had to come see this house! Especially if we're invited here every summer." Karen says while lightly nudging your side.

Leading your friends to the picnic area, you introduce them to your neighbors and some old friends from high school. The backyard is filled with the joyful chatter of voices, as everyone embraces the sense of community and love that permeates the atmosphere.

As night falls and everyone leaves, the four of you gather around a crackling bonfire, its dancing flames illuminating the faces around you. Matt sits beside you, his hand entwined with yours, as you listen to Foggy telling one of his infamous stories. You all add in little quips to enhance the story as everyone listens and drinks.

The crackling sound of the flames blends with the soft hum of laughter, creating a harmonious symphony of friendship and love. As you look around at the faces illuminated by the fire's glow, you can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

Gratitude for the unwavering support of your friends, who have stood by you through thick and thin. Gratitude for this beautiful home that has become a haven, a place of solace and happiness. And most of all, gratitude for the love that surrounds you, weaving its way through every moment shared.

As the night wears on and the fire begins to die down, you find yourself lost in a comfortable silence. The embers glow softly, casting a warm light that dances across your friends' faces. Karen leans her head on Foggy's shoulder, while Matt rests his chin on top of your head.

"What a great night, amongst friends." Foggy sighs.

"I'm really glad you guys came out here to see the house." You begin. "It's like this house was built for our family."

"You wouldn't have this house if it weren't for your dad." Matt reminds and you nod in agreement.

"To Tommy!" Foggy says while raising his beer can.

You smile as the rest of you raise your drinks and cheers to your dad. A tear rolls down your cheek, but Matt wipes it away before it's able to fall from your face.

"You know," Karen says, breaking the silence, "your dad would be so proud of you right now. Look at what you've built, what you've overcome. It's truly amazing."

The moment is bittersweet, as the memory of your father tugs at your heart. It's been years since he passed away, but the house stands as a testament to his hard work and love for his family, a symbol of the legacy he left behind.

As the night winds down, you and your friends gather up the empty beer cans and remnants of the barbecue feast. The fire has dwindled to mere embers, casting a soft glow upon the yard. 

With a final round of goodnights, Foggy and Karen retreat to their respective rooms. You and Matt finish cleaning in the kitchen and make sure everything is put away before you all leave in the morning.

As you climb into bed, exhaustion weighs heavily on your eyelids. Matt wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. The warmth of his embrace soothes you, easing away the worries and stresses of the day.

"Thank you for everything," you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He tightens his hold on you, his voice filled with affection. "I would do anything for you. You know that."

With a final sigh, you surrender to the gentle embrace of slumber, knowing that tomorrow will bring new adventures and challenges. But for now, in this haven of love and sanctuary, you find solace.

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[beardedmrbean]

LOS ANGELES (KTLA) – Gov. Gavin Newsom issued an executive order Friday prohibiting landlords in Los Angeles County from evicting tenants who open their doors to wildfire victims.

“At a time when so many have been suddenly displaced, we need more housing and shelter than ever. Opening your place of residence to help shelter those in need is not only encouraged and generous, but deserves to be protected,” Newsom said in a statement.

Specifically, the order prohibits landlords from “using the unlawful detainer process… to evict a tenant for violating a term of their lease that would otherwise prohibit them from sheltering one or more people displaced by the recent emergency,” a news release said.

The order, however, doesn’t prohibit landlords from enforcing other parts of a tenant’s lease.

Local leaders in the Los Angeles City Council have also taken steps to protect residents displaced by the deadly wildfires.

Councilmembers Eunisses Hernandez and Hugo Soto-Martínez introduced a motion that calls for a moratorium on evictions for tenants affected by the fires and a one-year pause on rent hikes through January 2026. Under the motion, any tenant impacted by the recent wildfires couldn’t be evicted, should it pass.

That motion is expected to be heard by the Housing and Homelessness Committee and then returned to the City Council for a vote in the coming weeks.

The governor’s executive order will be effective until March 8, 2025.

The Palisades and Eaton wildfires have killed 27 people and damaged over 17,000 structures. As of Monday afternoon,  the Palisades Fire is 59% contained, and the Eaton Fire is 87% contained, according to Cal Fire.

[apocalypseornaw]

Truths

You and Dean finally tell Sam the entire truth.

Part 2 to Secrets

Warnings: cursing, mention of ending a pregnancy. Yall this is Angsty

Everything had calmed down, for the moment anyways. Gadreel as it turns out had been the angel's name had been evicted from Sam's head thanks to Crowley of all people. The hunt for a way to kill Abaddon was ramping up but that was a worry for a different day. You'd take the wins you could.

You weren't surprised to find the other side of your bed empty. You suspected Sam hadn't even been sleeping in the same room with you at all. It hardly felt like you were a couple any more. You wanted to talk to him, to be completely honest but how the hell did you approach the subject?

Sam stopped at the lake that was about five miles from the bunker. He'd gone out on an early morning run, not sleeping next to you meant he barely slept anymore.

You had stayed through what happened with Gadreel, losing Kevin... when he pushed you away you stayed. He still wasn't sure what was going on between the two of you. It had been weeks since you let him touch you, he missed you. He missed having you in his arms. He missed you talking to him about little things. He missed the way things were before he tackled the trials.

---------

The problem? He didn't know how to get it back. The bond between you and Dean hadn't faltered any. There were still times he'd walk into a room to you and Dean cutting off mid conversation. The two of you had even gone on a few solo hunts. Dean citing you needed to clear your head and he didn't want you alone.

He loved Dean. He'd been a mother and a father to him despite there only being a four year age difference. He owed a lot to Dean but you were his heart. He'd never loved anyone the way he loved you.

The day he realized he had fallen in love with you a part of him had felt guilty thinking of Jess but Dean had been the one to remind him she'd want him to be happy and loved.

He didn't hate either of you for what was clearly going on. How could he? You were the most important people on earth to him and it would hurt like hell but he'd prefer the truth to whatever was going on. The problem remained if you would barely talk to him how could he ask you something as heavy as he needed to? How could he ask when you'd fallen out of love with him and in love with Dean?

You sat across from Dean staring down at the coffee cup in your hand. "How did the doctor appointment go?:" he asked and you nodded slightly "She said it all looked good. I'm thankful to Bess for getting me in with her doctor"

He cut his eyes up then glanced down towards your stomach "So the healing process?" You shrugged one shoulder "She was amazed at how fast I healed and the minimal scarring. Amazing what having an angel and the king of hell on your side can do for a girl"

He laughed slightly then his face sobered "How are you doing? The last few months have been a lot for us all, you and Sam especially" you shrugged "Some days are better than others. I want to talk to him so bad and tell him what happened but how do I tell the man I love that?"

"I'm sorry again sweetheart. I never for something like that to happen" you reached across to take Dean's hand "Wasn't like you're the only one who was there to make that choice"

----------

A sound in the hallway made you both jump up, Dean instinctively stepping in front of you until Sam walked in "Sammy? What's wrong?"

The first thing you noticed beyond the anger simmering off of Sam was the tears in his eyes. He looked from Dean to you "How long?" You and Dean exchanged a look of confusion "How long what baby?" You asked and he laughed humorlessly "How long have you two been sleeping together?"

"What?" "Oh C'mon man!" You and Dean were speaking over each other. Anger at the accusation mixed with the guilt of what the two of you had kept from him.

"The dropped conversations. The solo hunts. The spending time together then Dean not meaning for something to happen and you saying he didn't make that choice alone?" Sam's eyes were on you. "Sam it's not like that" Dean tried, reaching out for Sam's arm and having to duck when Sam swung on him.

"I'm not a fucking idiot Dean!" You jumped between the two of them without thinking. Yeah standing between two men with tempers like theirs and as strong as they were both was probably a dumb idea but no matter the accusations swarming you were confident neither would ever intentionally hurt you.

---------

You cut your eyes up at Dean when he spoke your name "It's time to tell him" you nodded. "Tell me what?" Sam asked and you saw the slightly tremor to his hand.

You took a deep breath "We've been hiding something Sam. Well the two of us and Cas, Crowley, Garth and Bess" he laughed "So damn near everyone we know besides me, the man you claim to love?"

"Ease up on her Sam" Dean warned stepping closer to your back. Sam watched the movment with hurt in his eyes "I'm sorry Y/N. I shouldn't have said that but for I've watched the woman I love get closer and closer to my brother. You barely let me touch you anymore I just want to know the truth, please"

You took another deep breath "I had to have an abortion Sam"

---------

He felt all the air leave his lungs like if he'd gotten punched in the chest. You'd been pregnant. "Was it mine?" He asked and when you shook your head he felt his heart crumble "Was it yours?" He asked Dean who shook his head "God no. She'd never cheat on you and I'd never hurt you like that"

Sam's head was spinning. If it wasn't his and you weren't sleeping with Dean and hadn't cheated on him...it was a Nephilim. "It was Gadreel's" he spoke in all but a whisper. You nodded feeling tears spring from your eyes. "Crowley and Cas helped heal her up" Dean explained but Sam's eyes were solely on you. That was why you'd pulled away, why you'd been leaning so heavily on Dean. You hadn't wanted to put anymore on him.

"C'mere baby. I am so sorry" he pulled you into his arms and for once you let him. You laid your head over on his chest "I love you Sam with all my heart" "I know baby I know. I love you too" he wrapped both arms around you. Dean motioned to the doorway before walking out to give the two of you alone time.

----------

"What now?" You and Sam had ended up taking a walk through the woods that surrounded the bunker. He turned to face you "I wish you would've told me. I would've been there for you" "I had hoped it was yours" you whispered looking up at him. He pushed your hair back from your eyes "I never should've doubted you"

"Are you mad at Dean?" You asked and he shook his head "For protecting you? Never" you pulled him into a hug and he wrapped his arms around you tightly. It wouldn't be easy, there'd been a lot of secrets being hidden amongst the three of you but maybe now all of you could truly start to heal before the next catastrophe landed.

[lawofficeofryansshipp]

St. Lucie County Eviction Lawyers | Law Office of Ryan S. Shipp, PLLC

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[thozhar]

The Manjolai tea estate, once under the control of the Singambatti Zamin before independence, was leased to The Bombay Burma Trading Corporation in 1929 for 99 years. Despite numerous changes in government administration, this lease prevented the forest department from taking control of the dense forest area of Manjolai.

With the lease set to expire in 2028, the forest department is now making efforts to bring Manjolai, Nalumku, and Kakachi under its jurisdiction. As part of this process, the government has begun taking steps to evict the workers, even though the lease period still has four years remaining. The urgency from the government stems from the logistical challenges of managing and transporting the produce from the tea estates, which could take several months. Consequently, the livelihoods of the workers who have lived and worked there for more than 90 years are now in jeopardy, leaving them deeply concerned about their future.

[girldragongizzard]

Chapter 9: Breakfast sans bed

Do you ever get tired of your own thoughts and the words in your head?

It’s Thursday, day six of my actual life, the life I’m finally living, and the Kims have opened the shop again. But Jill is hanging out in the lobby, and Nathan is helping the delivery man carry the coffee shipment into the back.

Nathan is a graying, bearded man with a gruff cheerfulness that’s delightful and friendly, and I love him. He’s almost like a human dragon himself, but not a threat to my territory. And, even though he’s nearly six feet tall, he looks like a dwarf in one of the shop aprons, which are all hand sewn by one of the owners. He usually picks a brown and orange one with a floral pattern and black frills. It goes pretty well with his Spanish moss green button down shirt, khaki cargo shorts, and brown Keen Austins today.

Nobody is talking to me. But they are all talking to each other, and that suits me just fine. Though I can’t really hear what’s being said inside the shop. I get snippets of conversation when Nathan or the delivery guy go through the door.

Kimberly’s given me her tablet, and I’m occupied with the now lengthy and tedious task of making it mine.

I can’t remember my cell account information, and I’m not sure this device is compatible with it anyway. In order to try, I’d have to get back into my apartment and look for the original paperwork, which I’m not even sure I can manipulate well enough to keep it legible. Or open the locked door somehow and get someone like Rhoda to do it for me. That means finding my keys.

Doable.

But, in the meantime, I do have the shop’s wifi code. The tablet is already set up with it, but Kimberly gave me a slip of paper and weighted it down with an empty coffee cup, when she delivered my morning joe.

My stomach is full of a couple of awful seagulls, though. I feel like the process of getting them in there should have left me more disturbed by it than I am. They were alive recently, but not when I swallowed them. But I didn’t cook them and I didn’t pluck them. And coffee just doesn’t sound appetizing yet.

I’ve just got the AAC app set up again, and am now examining my deeply singed and questionable purse, when someone vaguely memorable walks up to my table with fists on his hips. There’s an envelope in his right hand, flapping in the morning breeze.

“This isn’t working,” he says to me. “We’ll box up your belongings and deliver them to an address you supply. But you cannot re-enter your apartment. Furthermore, we can’t have you on the premises anymore. [Deadname], you are being evicted.”

I sit up so that my head is slightly above his, and turn my gaze to face him, without saying anything or making a noise. I just study him.

This is Dave. He works with the property management. One of my landlords.

He takes a step back, blinking a couple times, and then holds out the envelope for me to take it somehow.

I look at the envelope, but do nothing else.

“Meghan? Is this man bothering you?” Nathan asks from the other side of my table, where he’s standing now, arms folded across his chest.

“Yes,” I say with my new tablet. Easy and quick. I don’t even change my focus from the envelope.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Nathan says with obviously great relish. “The lady here has expressed she has no business with you.”

Dave blinks at him, appears to stammer without making any noise, and then says, “I’m just doing my job and serving this… individual… an eviction notice as required by law.”

“I think not,” Rhoda says from behind me, well within my peripheral vision. 

I did see her coming up, but had only shifted my focus to Dave’s face.

“What?” Dave says.

“If you evict this dragon, Dave,” Rhoda says. “Another will just take her place. And I don’t think you want any of the alternatives. She’s keeping the riffraff out. And I know. I’ve seen one of them.”

Nathan takes a determined step toward Dave, moving to crowd him off the sidewalk, or further down it.

But Dave stands his ground and raises his voice. “This… dragon’s former apartment must be repaired, and that hole properly shored up and patched, or this whole building will be condemned. Including this coffee shop. Do you all want that?”

“You can give her another apartment, or the roof, if she can’t stay in that one while you fix it,” Rhoda says. “I don’t know what law you’re referring to that requires an eviction. She’s not the one that damaged the building.”

Dave addresses her, “With the kind of racket it’s been making, we can’t have it –”

“Sir,” Nathan snaps, stepping up until he’s pushing against Dave’s arm with his crossed forearms.

“What?”

“You will address the lady properly,” Nathan insists. “Her pronoun is she/her.”

Dave glances at me, and I yawn. There may be seagull meat or feathers between my teeth. My breath probably doesn’t smell great. Then I give him a sarcastic cat smile.

“Well,” Dave says, swallowing. “She… cannot reside in that apartment while it’s being repaired. And we do not have any vacancies. And the roof is not a suitable living area. For one, there is no running water there. And… And we cannot have the noise that she is making. There are people trying to sleep at all hours.”

Both Nathan and Rhoda open their mouths as I raise a knuckle to my new hand-me-down tablet, but Dave raises a finger and clears his throat.

“It’s out of my hands, anyway,” he says firmly. “It’s not my decision. I’m just the messenger.”

My knuckle hits the tablet screen, “No.”

Completely flustered, Dave asks, “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I believe she means that you can’t make her,” Nathan explains.

“Well, normally she’d have thirty days to vacate the premises, but construction must start today,” Dave replies. “She cannot be allowed to return to her apartment. Otherwise, management’s next step is to call animal control.”

Oh, there it is.

I laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh, and it sounds like a WWF wrestler banging a couple of wooden blocks together as hard as possible.

Then I start bobbing my head, punctuating it occasionally with an upward head jerk.

Eyes wide, Dave backs off, leaning forward only to toss the eviction envelope onto the table, and then hurries back down the street toward the apartments’ lobby door. Slows down halfway there and straightens himself out, huffing and stomping his feet as he goes, working his shoulders and trying to take up as much space as possible. But he does not look back.

Oh, I want to chase him down so bad.

But, I am a civilized dragon, and I do not.

I do one more head bob as Nathan and Rhoda watch me, then I turn to my tablet and type something out, while they wait patiently.

“This not work,” I say. “None of it work.”

Dammit, this app doesn’t work on the cloud and I need to rebuild my saved phrases. Not that I had that many.

Rhoda heaves a big sigh and moves around the table to sit opposite me, while Nathan relaxes his arms and steps back out of her way. Then, while she’s sitting down, he goes to get his own chair to come over and sit in it.

I’m already typing out more to say, but Rhoda speaks before I’m done.

“Chapman and I spent a lot of time in the library yesterday, and I think we may have found some good candidate lairs for you, Meg,” she says. “I know you don’t want to move from here. I can tell. But –”

“I am not leaving,” I say. “This building is mine.” Then I look pointedly at her, then knuckle in two more words to remind her. “You say.”

She said it herself to Dave.

She leans back in her chair and exhales through her nose.

Nathan makes a humming noise, as if he’s about to say something, then leans forward a little and looks like he’s chewing on his words while he squints at the eviction envelope. There’s presumably a letter in there.

“I’ve done property management,” he says, after a bit. “Unfortunately, they are legally within their rights to serve this to you. I don’t like it, but it is a fact. I don’t think we can fight it legally.”

“I do wonder if you can hang out on the roof anyway. Are you an animal in the eyes of the law or a person?” Rhoda asks. “But your stuff needs a home.”

“I worry they’ll declare her an unsanitary infestation,” Nathan says. “But, I’ve got a garage we can put her stuff in.” He looks at me, “Animal or person, you’re family.”

I have emotions. They’re all in me. And the two of them wait for me to say my piece.

“I fight dragons and win,” I say. “I mark my space. If I leave, other dragons fight here. Things get worse. You are family. I protect you.” Then I huff and try my cool coffee. It’s getting to be a hot day, and coffee that’s not exactly hot seems fine.

I can’t exactly feel the heat of the day, but I see it. I think it needs to get a lot hotter before my body notices in a way I’ll recognize it. But my mouth is more sensitive, despite what it can do, and cooler liquid is desirable right now.

“There’s a… Meg,” Rhoda says. “There’s a… right…”

“I’ve got it,” Nathan says, and leans forward and plucks a small seagull feather out from the corner of my mouth, and then turns it in his fingers to examine it in the sun. “Did you eat a seagull?”

I stop drinking just long enough to hit the numeral, “Two.”

“That must have been some breakfast.”

“I’m glad I didn’t see, or hear, you do that,” Rhoda says.

And then we spend the next half hour or so of the morning just enjoying each other’s presence and maybe thinking about things. Except me. I’m doing my best to not think.

I’m not great at not thinking, but I find that if I focus on the fact that this is my coffee and these are my friends, my mind doesn’t bother wandering over much else.

“So, Meg,” Nathan says, after a bit. “I haven’t seen you since before, you know. Kimmy told me your name and pronouns, even. What’s it like?”

I consider this question. I want to tell everyone all about it, really. There’s so much to say.

“Hard to talk,” I say. “Many thinking. AAC not easy. Slow.”

“Ah, I imagine so,” he says. “Take your time. I’m off shift now.”

I take my time with my next sentence, spelling it out, “No, this is part of it.”

“Ah, yeah.”

“You’re getting pretty good with those knuckles there, though,” Rhoda observes. “I wonder what you could do with an oversized keyboard on a laptop.” She looks at Nathan, “Do they make those?”

“It wouldn’t help much here. Kind of clunky,” he says. “But let me do a search.” And he leans further forward to fish his phone out of his back pocket, so he can do some screen shopping. He gets results pretty quick. “Oh, here’s one! And it’s called a Redragon. Woah, it’s expensive, though. Gaming keyboard. Twenty-eight inches across, though. That’s about this big.” He holds his hands apart, his phone in one of them, displaying an image of the keyboard.

“Let’s get her that,” Rhoda says. “She really does need to write up her experiences. All of them, if possible. The world needs to hear from the dragons, I think. It’s early in all this, but I can tell. It’s going to be critical.”

“Hmm,” Nathan considers it. “I’ll talk to the bosses. I think she could use the backroom as an office when they’re not doing management stuff there. And I’ve got an old desktop that can do LibreOffice and probably run this keyboard.”

“That, I think, would be perfect,” Rhoda says.

I begin typing again, and they wait.

“My brain is home now,” I say. “My body is home now. I have friends now. Seagulls taste like shit.”

Both of them laugh, and Nathan says, “Then don’t eat them!”

I patiently say, “Then eat what? Hungry for seagulls.”

“Well,” Nathan suggests. “If you’re not going to pay rent anymore, what if you use all your money on steaks?”

I tilt my head.

“Here. I’ll do the math,” he says. “You get, what, something like $640 a month, I imagine?”

I lift my head in affirmative. It’s close enough.

“Alright. If you’re eating seagulls, and you just want as many calories as possible, let’s go with the cheapest steak from the most reputable store. Don’t want to get sick,” he says as he types into his phone, looks at the screen for a bit, and then switches apps again. “Well, OK, with ground chuck, you could buy about 95 pounds of meat a month. And that’s…” he scowls at his phone. “3.1 pounds of meat a day.” He looks at me. “A hamburger is a quarter to a third a pound of meat, usually. Though I make half pounders sometimes. I honestly don’t know if that’s enough for you though. Or if you need variety.”

I consider this.

“But it’s gotta be more efficient and easier to eat than hunting down seagulls,” he says.

“I want hunt,” I reply, after another moment of thought.

He quirks an eyebrow and smirks, saying, “I could tie a steak to the back of my truck and drive down the street for you.”

I give a light knocking noise and bob my head a couple of times, then tilt my head sideways away from him.

“It’s amazing,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “You are at once totally different now, but also really just more you. I recognize you, Meg. I see you. And if you don’t mind me saying, you are beautiful. I don’t know if I understand all of your expressions and gestures, but I feel comfortable and calm around you, more so than ever before.”

“And that is what I think everyone should know,” Rhoda says.

“I agree,” Nathan concurs.

“Let’s get that keyboard.”

“Yeah.”

We spend the rest of the morning talking about lighter things, with me taking time to program my AAC with useful phrases while listening to them share stories about neighbors and tenants, or customers at the coffee shop. And for a little bit, I demonstrate my ability to imitate various sounds, and try to learn a couple new ones. I can do a really good seagull and a crow. And then that gets me on to the subject of my neighboring dragons. And I share the names I’ve made up for them:

Loreena

Waits

Poink

Theremin

Chickadee

Godzilla

Wilhelm the Screamer

Weedle

Turbolaser

Lumberjack

Cricket

and

Caterwaul

All names that describe the sounds that they make, to me. I know they’ve actually got their own names, and maybe if they start updating their own blogs I might learn them. I don’t think we’ll be having face to face conversations, though.

I do wonder what they all call me.

And it’s right about that point, just after noon, that Chapman comes walking down the street on hir lunch break, and Kim gets off her shift and comes outside.

The sight of Chapman reminds me of something I don’t think I’ve told anybody yet. Maybe I told Rhoda, but I don’t remember, and I feel like bragging to Chapman.

When the other two join us, standing briefly in the empty-ish spots around the table, I say, “I can breathe fire.”

“What,” Kim says.

Chapman lights up.

Nathan raises his eyebrows.

And Rhoda says, “I think I’ve gotta check the news again.”

[fuckyeahmarxismleninism]

Over 100 faculty members from Barnard and Columbia gathered on Low Steps at 2 p.m. Monday for a “Rally to Support our Students and Reclaim our University.”

aculty in the Barnard and Columbia chapter of the American Association of University Professors voiced support for students’ freedom of assembly and condemned the suspensions and arrests of “peaceful” protesters. At around 2:40 p.m., faculty members marched in a procession toward Barnard to deliver a letter to Barnard President Laura Rosenbury and Dean Leslie Grinage demanding that Barnard lift all student suspensions. As of Tuesday, Barnard has suspended at least 53 Barnard students.

“Barnard members of the AAUP are shocked and outraged at the illegitimate arrest, suspension, and eviction of over 50 Barnard College students who are engaging in a peaceful protest on the designated free speech zone of Butler lawn,” the letter states. “These actions have disrupted our ability to teach and our students’ ability to learn far more than any protest has.”

[1yyyyyy1]

Tips & tricks on how to stop giving a fuck about other people, specifically their feelings and chimpout reactions, if you're sensitive to that stuff?

This is a complex topic. You can become sensitive to people's reactions for quite a few reasons, ranging from mild workplace disagreements to severe trauma. The most effective approach will depend on the cause. As such, I will always advise to consult a qualified professional if it is possible. The following is what found helpful in my own introspection and what I personally find important to understand about mental health.

Do you have these moments in your life where, long after a conflict subsided, you replay an event in your head wishing you had retorted with something clever? Do you find yourself thinking how stupid you are for being bothered by something this petty? Is your immediate decision to shut your eyes tight and wish for it to go away? Don't. Stop in your tracks and finish your line of thought. A disturbance like that is not petty. In situations where retaliation is not an option for a variety of reasons, be it the danger of calling out your superior, or simply because the opportunity is long gone, people tend to not only opt out of confrontation, they opt out of experiencing the related emotional feedback as well. How often do you feel that your anger is useless? That the situation is simply too dire to be resolved with a simple display of emotion, and that expressing your displeasure would be a waste of time? Anger is an indication that something is wrong, and it is useless for as long as you devalue yourself and your own biological processes. The reaction you wish you had had has not gone anywhere, you are simply suppressing it over and over again, just like you did during the incident. Recalling it in an untimely manner is what the brain does in an attempt to process the event in earnest.

The solution comes down to the following psychological phenomenon: it does not matter to your brain whether the person you are referring to is real or imaginary, it treats them all the same. If it is not safe for you to confront the person, do it retrospectively and it will have a similar effect relieving emotional tension. The same principle applies to situations where it is dangerous for you to express your disdain outright: dealing with an abusive ex-boyfriend, your parents threatening to evict you should you make a fuss. You can see me refer to an imaginary person in this post as to avoid a spat and let off steam all the same. I have had women confide me in the fact that they talk to themselves in private, and it is crucial to recognize what this process functionally is. Do not deny yourself this on the premise that it is stupid or bizarre. Whenever you catch yourself slipping into an unpleasant memory, take a step back and play out the event as if it were real. Defend yourself to the best of your ability and don't mince words. I assure you, you will not only feel better, you will no longer be haunted by the incident soon after the exercise is over.

If I were you, I would ask myself this: Why do I care? Why do I care about people's feelings? Why do I feel like I have to take them into consideration?

Many a thing with insecurities are an inverse trauma response. It is easier to assume that you breaking down means you are unfit for the job, and not that your supervisor is a bully. It would require reflecting on the circumstances that led up to the moment: financial instability, fear of losing the job, a potentially triggered flashback; that in itself is traumatic. The best thing you can do is not make an enemy of yourself. Few a person has your best interest in mind. Now is not the time to be insecure.

I do not care about people’s opinions and feelings because their input is of limited value to me. Living by this world’s principles has never worked for me, it is stupid to assume that it will now. A common concern I have seen women express over consistently making a harsher judgement is that they will end up not having enough self-awareness not to go overboard, and that they will needlessly hurt the people around them and themselves in the process. The truth is that people who are malignant behaviorally do not ask themselves these questions, and they certainly do not consider themselves being at fault a possibility. With a smidge of awareness, you are good to go.