#get home and to the one garage that is still open. they do not stock tyres the size i need bc they are small but they can order one in

[lxnelyhearrt]

bro i’m so sick of owning a car

[thedroneranger]

Centerfold

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Précis: Jake's favorite duo gifts him an anniversary surprise he'll cherish forever.

Note: An imagine in the To-Do List collection. This one is for @cherrycola27, who came screaming into my dms with this idea after reading Car Wash. 🖤

Third image is what I envisioned for the described panty-garterbelt combo. Courtesy of Honey Birdette.

Warnings: 18+ only, nudity, body parts, adult themes.

Word count: 1.1k

Jake hustled into the house, worried he was going to be late. Tossing his keys on the table in the entryway, he thudded up the stairs to the bedroom. As he crossed the threshold, he pulled his shirt over his head. Once he could see again, he stopped in his tracks. There, on his side of the bed, lay a neatly wrapped package. Curious, he walked over. 

As he approached, Jake read his name in her handwriting on the card tucked under the bow. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jake pulled the package into his lap and unearthed the card. 

Enjoy. xo

He sat the card beside him and tugged the bow until it fell apart. Once the ribbon was off, he lifted the lid to find a square black leather book with “For your eyes only” debossed in the middle of the cover. He ran his hand across the small words and curled his fingers around the edge to open it.

The cover page read, “Happy anniversary.” A smile graced his lips as he flipped to the next page to see her leaning out the window of his 1967 Ford Mustang parked on a scenic cliff somewhere along the coast. Her chin rested on her haphazardly folded arms, and she was smirking into the camera. Jake loved everything about it.

His smile widened as he turned the page to see her in the first of several traditional pinup poses. 

She donned an open black bomber jacket that revealed just her sternum and the inner curve of her breasts. A gift from Jake to mimic his flight suit, it bore his squadron patches and a call sign patch that read “Mrs. Hangman.” She paired it with the most delicate black lace panties and garterbelt. Jake wasn’t sure how the belt was even holding up her stockings. She was perched on the hood of the car, legs on full display.

In the next photo, she was standing back to the camera, looking over her shoulder, clutching a soapy sponge against ‘Stang, the nickname they gave his vintage muscle car. A smirk curled Jake’s mouth as he noticed she was clad in the infamous black triangle bikini and high-waisted cutoff denim shorts.

The outfit took him back to the day he came home to find her washing ‘Stang in the driveway. His heart began to race as he thought about her riding his lap in the front seat parked in the garage. The mental replay had him shifting in his seat. For a minute, he tried to think about less sexy things to keep himself together. After all, he still needed to get ready for dinner.

Clearing his throat, he thumbed further through the montage, enjoying each pose of his favorite duo.

The upcoming page was thicker than the previous ones. Interest further piqued, he turned it to learn it was the middle of the book and folded out twice its size. 

“Holy…” he trailed off as he unfurled the centerfold to reveal her draped naked across the hood. ‘Stang’s shiny chrome grill with the iconic wild mustang galloping in the center was the least impressive part of the image. 

She was casual yet sultry with her elbows resting on the hood and her temple pressed against the knuckles of her interlaced hands as she stared at Jake from the page. Her biceps strategically covered her nipples, but left the bottom swells of her breasts exposed. Suddenly, Jake had cottonmouth.

When his gaze fell upon her barely parted pouty lips, he felt a sudden rush of blood to his lap. Her hair was also mussed just right and her skin had a certain glow, reminding him of how she often looked after they fucked.  

Next, he was drawn to the slope of her shoulders that led to her back then her waist and finally rolled up her perfectly shaped ass. The soft curves of her thighs trailed to the backs of her knees where her legs extended off the hood, jutting into toned calves and ending with perfectly pedicured toes. 

Jake’s fingers traced her figure on the page. His mind autofilling the feel of each curve.

“Do you like it?” Jake jumped up, nearly dropping the book. Instead, he caught it by the pages. Terrified, he inspected it and found no damage. Once he was sure his gift was ok, he looked at his wife in the doorway.

Immediately, he did a double take as she leaned against the door jamb, donning the bomber jacket outfit from the book.

She swaggered over to Jake, and together, they sat back down on the edge of the bed. She sidled up to him so she was pressed against his side, a hand planted behind him on the bed as Jake held the book in his lap. “We should look at the second half,” she added. 

Jake looked between her and the book. “Do we have time?” He was thinking about their dinner reservation.

Her smile said it all. She folded the pages back in, so they could browse the back half. “These are a little more intimate,” she added.

His mouth fell open as she flipped the page to reveal herself nude and laying upside down in the driver’s seat. Her forearms tastefully covered her breasts as her hands cupped her neck. Head hanging off the seat, her hair cascaded out the open door. Her long legs reached up to the ceiling, the balls of her feet anchoring her.

Mesmerized, Jake held the book as she reached across him to reveal another set of images. On the left, ‘Stang’s hood was open, and she was leaning into it with one leg popped. All her scandalous bits in shadow, but the lighting perfectly shone the silhouetted curves of her backside and supple breasts. 

On the right was a straight-on view of her wide hips, round ass and long legs as she leaned into the trunk. Of course, she was naked, but her core was shadowed perfectly to keep the image in good taste.

They finished the rest of the book, her flipping pages as Jake stared in awe. In his wildest dreams he had not thought about having a keepsake of professionally shot images of his wife and vintage car. 

She closed the book and slid it off his lap, revealing an impressive bulge. A smile pulled her lips as she looked up at him through her eyelashes. His green eyes were dark with lust. “We’re gonna have to skip dinner…” he trailed off, as she straddled his lap.

“That was the plan.” She smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.

[callunavulgari]

Chapter 4 is up! This one has one of my favorite scenes in it! Chapter banner by the lovely @firefly-party! <3

.

It’s eleven o’clock in the evening and Eddie, despite his best efforts to hold out, has given into the impulse to pull out his acoustic. He’ll be quiet, he reasons, unzipping the case with a level of hush that would probably be downright comical to an outside observer. It’s been too long since he’s held one of his babies in his hands— life still being a bit too hectic for weekly practices, and he’s just—

Well, the way he figures it is if Steve can sing his way through the top 40s at the top of his lungs at 3am without feeling the wrath of their elderly neighbors, Eddie can damn well quietly strum his guitar. Nobody’s going to kill him. The police will — hopefully — not break down his door and haul him off to jail.

He’s just a guy with a guitar. Trying his best.

His acoustic is a little old, a little worn, but it was the first gift that Wayne ever got Eddie. It had been missing half its strings when he’d gotten it, but Eddie had loved it fiercely and still does to this day. Nowadays it doesn’t get as much use as his Warlock, so he spends the first ten minutes meticulously tuning it. For the most part, he just fucks around. Plays with some chords, shaking the rust from his knuckles. 

It’s a muggy night and his AC has been making gurgling noises for the better part of a week now, so he’s thrown open the window in the kitchen in a desperate attempt to coax in a breeze. It’s not really working if he's honest with himself, his hair frizzing up as the humidity grows. 

Eddie should be sleeping probably. He’s got an early shift at the garage the next morning, but the heat left him feeling restless, full of a need to do something.

Anything.

He’s halfway through a playfully plucked rendition of I’m a Little Teapot when there’s a clatter from the direction of the kitchen. Eddie blinks, fingers stilling on the strings and squints towards the dark hallway.

This is how people die in horror movies. 

He’s contemplating whether it’s a good idea to go check when there’s another clatter, a jingle of a bell, and then a blur of gray sprints out of the shadows towards him.

Eddie isn’t ashamed to admit that he shrieks like a little girl, drawing his legs up onto the couch cushions and holding his guitar up and out of the way, clenching his eyes closed like that’s going to protect him from whatever eldritch beast just crept its way into his home.

And then—

Mraor.

Eddie squints one eye open and slowly, so very slowly, peers over the edge of the couch to where a fucking cat is sitting on the floor in front of him, peering up at Eddie expectantly.

“What the fuck,” Eddie mutters, unclenching slowly. “Where the hell did you come from?”

The cat just blinks up at him. It’s an ugly cat. Something’s wrong with its hip and it’s missing an entire eyeball, the place where it once was just a gaping socket. Worse still, it’s just looking at him with its singular milky eye, licking its chops as if it’s planning on making a meal out of him.

“What do you want?” Eddie asks it. “Sorry to break it to you, but I don’t keep this place stocked with tuna and I hear milk is bad for you.”

The cat just keeps blinking at him and then opens its little cat mouth and lets out another plaintive meow. With a jingle of its collar, it hops up onto the couch cushion next to him and begins to slowly groom its tail.

“Well okay, then,” Eddie says. “Guess you’re just… here then.”

Does he just have a cat now? Is that how the cat distribution system works? After all, how does one get rid of the cat that just crept in through their effing window? He can’t throw the thing out— he’s six stories up and doesn’t know how it got in without offing itself by accident in the first place.

“Any requests?” he asks the cat, resigned as he settles back down against the couch and pulls the guitar back into his lap.

The cat doesn’t even look at him, just keeps grooming itself, but when he plays the first few notes of Freebird, it starts purring.

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

Fatherly Comfort

Summary - Part 10 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure)

Warnings - slight angst, mentions of pregnancy

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N - G’day guys, I just wanna start by thanking you for all the likes, reblogs and follows since my last post, I really appreciate it. I hope you like this one too. And remember my inbox is always open for requests or even if you just wanna chat. Until next week, enjoy! 

Night falls and morning rises and Dean still hasn’t returned. You’re sitting in the kitchen alone sipping a cup of tea when Sam walks in half asleep. 

“Have you heard from Dean?”

“Sorry, Y/N, I haven’t. I thought he would’ve been back by now. He’s probably sleeping off a hangover in the Impala somewhere. I’m sure he’ll come home soon.”

“You don’t think he would’ve gone back to his old habits, do you? You don’t think he’s in some other woman’s bed right now? I mean, he said one-night stands are easier…”

“No, no, no way. Dean loves you, so much. No matter how upset or hurt, he would never. Just give him time, he’ll be back.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

Sam pours himself a cup of coffee and makes his way into the library, leaving you alone again. You try Dean’s phone again but you just get the message bank. So you call Bobby instead. Much like how he’s the boy’s surrogate father, he had taken you in quickly too. He answers on the second ring.

“Hey, kiddo, what’s up? What have those Idjits done now?”

“Hey, Bobby, I need some advice, I don’t know what to do.”

“Was it Dean? Did he hurt you?”

“Honestly, I think it’s my fault. Do you think I could come stay with you for a while?”

“You know you’re always welcome here. I’ll make up the guest room and stock the fridge.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”

“Anytime, kid.”

You go to your room and pack a bag, ensuring to slip in your knife and gun just in case. You stop by the library on your way to the garage.

“I can’t sit here and just wait for him to come back. I’m gonna go stay with Bobby for a few days, maybe he knows where Dean is. If he comes back here just tell him to call me.”

“That’s a six-hour trip, do you want me to come with you?”

“I need some time to myself. I have my silver knife and gun, I can handle myself.”

“Please, let me come with you. Dean will kill me if he finds out I let you out of here on your own.”

“I’m not a child, Sam. In fact, I am having one. I can look after myself,” you turn to walk out.

Sam follows you to the garage. “Fine. But call me whenever you stop and when you get to Bobby’s. I’m gonna be tracking your cell also.”

“I will. Thanks, Sam.”

He pulls you in for a brief hug. You pull away and hop into the bright red vintage car, tossing your bag on the back seat. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Around six hours later you drive into the Singer Salvage yard. You’re utterly exhausted. Bobby comes out to meet you, opening the door for you before spotting your bag and grabbing it off the back seat.

“You look exhausted, kid. Come on inside and have a drink.”

You’re so drained you just nod and follow him inside. He takes your bag upstairs to the guest room before joining you on the couch with two open beers. You take one but you don’t drink it, you just swap the bottle from hand to hand inspecting it.

“What this cheap stuff ain’t good enough for ya anymore? That boy been spoilin’ you?”

“No, I’ve actually just recently given up drinking.”

“A hunter that doesn’t drink? That’s new. He knocked you up, didn’t he?”

You don’t say anything. You put the beer on the side table and grab a cushion, pulling it close to your chest. Tears start to well up again as you take a deep breath.

“Aw, darlin’, does he know?”

You nod.

“Alright, then what are you doing on my couch?”

“I’m not sure if I should keep it.”

“And Dean?”

“We had a fight about it…I haven’t heard from him since. He has been nothing but supportive, he wants this baby so badly and I know I hurt him when I mentioned thinking about an abortion. 

He said that our relationship was a bad idea and that one-night stands are easier. I’m scared, Bobby. What if he-”

“I’ve known that boy since he was a kid, he’s loyal to a fault and he loves you. If I know that boy then he’s driving around trying to find a way to disperse all the evil from the world so you have no reason to doubt keeping this baby. Deep down this has always been his dream, and now that there’s a chance of it coming true he’s gotta be struggling. Then you go and say you want to take that dream away from him?”

“Yeah…”

“I also can see where you’re coming from. You’re scared, unsure of how you’re gonna protect your child. Unsure of whether Dean will be able to give all this up and live a normal life with you? Am I close?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, let me tell you something. Those are fears every expectant parent has. I may not have had the chance to have children of my own but you three are pretty close to it. And even without all the demons and spirits and ghouls, I’d still worry about you being safe. Parents worry about how to protect their children from getting sick or hurt. That’s completely normal.”

“So you’re saying for the first time in ages I’m experiencing something completely normal?”

“More or less. Listen, you’ll always worry about the safety of your child, regardless of demons and such, but at least they’ll be surrounded by family who will protect them with their lives and do everything they can to keep them safe from all of this and anything else that comes their way.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”

“Aw hell, it’s getting late and I haven’t even fed you yet. What can I get you?”

“I’d love a pizza, but I think the bean would disagree. Just think of anything Sam would eat and get me that.”

“You got the morning sickness, huh?”

“Unfortunately…”

“Alright, I’ll be back soon. You know the drill, make yourself at home.”

After Bobby leaves you pull out your phone and try to call Dean again. You get the message bank again, but instead of hanging up, you leave a message. “Hey Dean, it’s me, I’m worried about you and I miss you. Please call me, we need to talk. I love you, and I love the idea of raising this baby together, you keep saying we’ll do this together and I believe you-” The beep cuts you off. You get up and go upstairs to shower.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You wake up to the smell of pancakes, so you get up and make your way downstairs. You find Bobby standing at the stove with his back to you. You spot the orange juice on the table with two plates. 

“I didn’t realise you cooked.”

“Well, good morning to you too.”

“Sorry, good morning, Bobby.”

“I don’t really not since, well you know. But it’s not every day a pregnant woman turns up on my doorstep. You need a fulfilling breakfast, you’re growing my grandbaby.”

“Your grandbaby, huh?”

“Family don’t end in blood, kid.”

“This baby is lucky to have such a caring and protective grandfather. Oh, and orange juice instead of whisky? It’s a weird look.”

“Shut up, ya idjit.”

“I love you too, Bobby. Thank you again for all of this.”

While you wait for Bobby to finish cooking you grab your phone to call Dean again, but you find it’s flat so you plug it in to charge. When it lights up you find 20 missed calls from Sam but none from Dean.

“Bobby, did Sam call you?”

“Yeah, I told him you were here. He said you promised to call. He was really worried about you.”

“I forgot to call him when I got here.”

You call Sam and apologise for not calling and scaring him. 

Over breakfast, you discuss the ongoing demon situation. And then you help with the dishes. As you’re drying up you hear an all too familiar purr of an engine. You turn to Bobby and say, “you called him?”

“Damn right I did. I need to set that idjit straight.”

“Did you tell him I was here?”

“No, but I bet he spotted that sweet red ride the second he drove in.”

“He’s gonna be so mad I left the bunker. I need more time! I don’t know what to say to him.”

“Hey, Bobby! Please tell me you picked up a car identical to one from the bunker!” you hear Dean call out. The sound of his voice makes you freeze.

Dean walks in without knocking but stops as soon as he sees you. You keep your eyes locked on the ground. You can feel his gaze on you. You start to tear up again, guilt filling your body.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Tag list: (Leave a like or comment on this post or let me know below if you want to be added to the tag list for this series)

@bitchwitch1981, @muhahaha303, @justrealizedimmascifygurl, @mcdowell-123, @leigh70, @marvelsmarauder, @losa12308, @tapedeck-hearts, @luvjaida, @peachtxa, @ambearsstuff,

[invisibleraven]

Haunted Holidays

December 25: Family <-AO3 link!

Merry Christmas all!

Ray had one rule when the band made it big; they always came home for the holidays. No ifs, ands, or buts. No matter what else they were doing, or where in the world they were, Christmas time was family time. They had rolled their eyes but agreed, and had stuck to the agreement ever since.

At first it was just Julie, since the rest of them had their own families to spend time with, though they all migrated over to the Molina house at some point and didn’t really leave after that. But Ray didn’t mind, regardless of blood, they were all still his kids, and he’d rather have them here with him than out on the streets or getting into trouble.

Then Ray found out what Reggie was going home to and insisted he just stay with them from here on out. Went so far as to make himself a foster parent should Reggie ever need it, and by the next holiday season Reggie was emancipated and living with them full time.

The next year he found out about Luke running out on his parents, and squatting in their garage. He gave the boy a good talking to, but once he saw that Luke was determined to not go back, he urged him to at least let his parents know he was safe, and that he was always welcome. Things would always be tense with the Pattersons’, but they could at least rest easy knowing their son was somewhere safe, and loved.

By the next year, Julie, Luke, and Reggie were together as well, so Ray figured it was better for them to stay in the house where he could keep an eye on them rather than not. Plus it meant he didn’t have to look further into adult adoption and let the guys figure out a way to make themselves Molinas another way. He’d keep a hold of the family heirloom rings just in case.

Alex and Willie followed soon after-they usually stayed with Willie’s foster dad, but he often travelled for work, so any year they didn’t want to follow him, they were welcome to spend the holidays with the rest of the band. That became more and more frequent over the years, with both boys coming to become honourary sons to him, and he was as much of a dad to them as he could be.

Flynn and Carrie were the last to join. Flynn because she genuinely did have a good relationship with her family, and usually only came over for a gift exchange with Julie more than anything. Carrie had taken her time coming back into the fold, and it wasn’t until she and Flynn had worked themselves out that Ray really thought about her spending her holidays with her rockstar father up in that big mansion, or perhaps alone when Trevor was working or on some retreat. Ray would bet it was more so the latter rather than the former.

So that was how he found himself with a houseful of people for this year's celebration. Three couples, plus himself and Carlos, and he was sure Victoria would stop by at some point, probably with food. Which wouldn’t be unwelcome given the number of people.

Ray decided to get the house ready before they arrived; cleaning and getting the decorations up, but he left the tree for when Julie was home, since that was her favourite thing. He picked up groceries for the week, then went back for extras, and a few snacks to hide away for himself. Plus things he could stick in their stockings; candy, socks, guitar picks, pens, and hair stuff.

He already had presents sorted, even though all of them insisted he didn’t need to get them anything. But he couldn’t have nothing under the tree for them to open! So he got everyone their traditional matching pyjamas, those were non-negotiable, but he also got everyone a book, plus a nice photo in a frame for each of them to do with as they wished.

Ray hummed as he placed the last gift under the tree, hoping Julie would get here soon so they could put the ornaments on. Wondering if this time next year she’d be wearing a ring on her finger, the guys had been hinting about wanting to ask for some time now. Maybe a few years down the road, they would all come home with a bevy of kids. Ray would like that, having children around to celebrate the holidays with. To be an abuelo to them all, regardless of blood.

“Raymond! I’m here with the food!” Victoria called out.

“You know where everything goes!” he called back, then went to help because he’d catch hell if he didn’t.

Soon enough Carlos was home, and the three of them got to work cooking, doing any last minute wrapping, and playing phone tag with the crew flying in.

“Flynn says their flight is delayed, but she and Carrie will be here by supper time,” Victoria confirmed.

“Alex and Willie are driving down now, ETA two hours,” Carlos said, barely glancing up from his phone.

“Julie says they have a stop to make along the way, but they should be here soon,” Ray said. “And asked if we had room for two more.”

“Who did they adopt now?” Victoria asked, good naturedly.

“It’s probably Kayla and her new partner,” Carlos said. “Julie said they weren’t sure what they were doing for the holidays.”

“Well the more the merrier!” Ray declared. “Carlos, help me dig up some more chairs por favor.”

Soon enough, the doorbell rang, and Ray smiled. Everyone knew to just come in, but they delighted in letting him answer the door, welcoming them home for Christmas. And as soon as he opened the door, he got an armful of Julie, hugging him tight. “Feliz Navidad papi!”

“Feliz Navidad mija. Where are the boys?”

Julie gestured to where Reggie was getting the bags, and Luke ws helping someone from the back of the car. An older woman and man that Ray instantly recognized. “He reconnected with his parents?”

“They’re trying,” Julie whispered. “And he wanted to celebrate with his whole family. You don’t mind, do you?”

“As long as everyone is civil and respectful, of course not,” Ray assured her. “But if Luke goes missing out to the garage for a bit, I won’t question it.”

Julie hugged his side briefly before letting go to help Reggie with the bags, so Ray could get a Reggie hug in. He then greeted Emily and Mitch warmly, insisting they weren’t intruding and were more than welcome. He grabbed Luke into a side hug and whispered his pride into his ear afterwards though, and by the man’s smile, Ray knew Luke had needed to hear that.

The rest of the crew arrived shortly, with warm welcomes all around, and Willie said if he knew they were allowed to bring parents he would have dragged Caleb along. They all laughed at the thought of Caleb Covington coming here for the holidays, but Ray told Willie to try next year, they’d make a big thing of it.

They ate and caught up, had a round or two of carols, and some snacks-nothing fancy, but it was a lovely night. “Alright gang, presents are at nine sharp, be here in your jammies, or be square!” Ray declared as he went to head off to bed after they finished the tree. “Emily and Mitch, you are more than welcome to come back, even though I’m afraid I don’t have matching Molina family pajamas for you.”

“Maybe next year?” Emily suggested. “We’ll be by for dinner afterwards though, I’ll bring a pie.”

“Oooh, I do love your pie,” Luke said. “Come on Ma, I’ll drive you and Pop home.”

Maybe Ray waited up to ensure Luke got home safe that night-but the hug he got in thanks more than made up for the lost sleep. Plus the next morning was a lazy affair-no need to get dressed, just warm up the cinnamon buns, start the coffee, and wait for the kids to get up.

It wasn’t a grand Christmas, nothing over the top, but Ray felt warmed by the spirit of the season as he watched his family gather together, exchange gifts, laugh and love together. Plus he spied the diamond now sitting on Julie’s left hand, and the slim bands on both Luke and Reggie. He wasn’t going to say anything-he was sure they wanted to wait until everyone was here. He could be patient.

So Ray sat back, drinking out of one of his many World’s Best Dad mugs, content as anything, and happy to enjoy Christmas with his family.

[cwarscars]

heidegger's home |

i always imagined heid's house looking a certain way and in the past made aesthetic / headcanon posts about it. i'm not sure if they exist on this blog anywhere or if it's lost media (lol) so i figured i'd detail his home here.

of course, he lives above plate ( not with the peasants in the slums, lmao gotem ). i imagine his home is quite a lonely place. it's a sleek two-story home out toward the outskirts of the plate. so high up it's almost amidst the clouds, his home overlooks the distance of the fields surrounding midgar and is facing kalm. if one squints, they can see the sea - but they'd probably need a telescope.

it's always windy there, kind of cold. even when the sun hits the house and the false soil/grass surrounding it, it's still a little chilly. real jumper weather sort of surroundings.

his home is fairly big, open-plan. lots of dark, muted colours. greys, blacks - he doesn't care for colour.

on the outside, a garage for his bike and his trinkets. woodworking kit, building tools, a mini gym. a parking space for his car on the outside of his house - large windows that look out from the house. the house is all windows, y'know.

you go through the front door and there's a wide open lounge that partners nicely with a bar/kitchen. as said, it's all open-plan. in the main living area is a greatsword above a fireplace, surprisingly still on the wall despite being incredibly heavy. it carries as many scars as heidegger does and like him - looks like an antique.

the bar is equipped with rich whiskey and whatever other booze heidegger fancies. it's always well-stocked. the edge of the bar has a noticeable chip from where he fell once while drunk. he didn't get it repaired in an attempt to tell himself to stop drinking ( it never took effect as he'd liked ).

the kitchen is wide and rich, a lot of devices that do a lot of nothing. in truth, he never bothered to learn how to use them. the fridge is hardly stocked. more alcohol, some sweet treats. he does all of his eating at work and on business rendezvous.

out back leads to a large room containing a swimming pool and a sauna. again, windows surrounding the pool - they're the ones looking out over the back of the house. he makes such sure to swim for at least an hour every evening. sometimes, he just hovers in the water, floats on his back - wonders what it'd be like to drown to death.

there are two bathrooms in the house ( one up, one down ) and an en-suite in the bedroom. all look similar, the one to see the most use is the en-suite.

should one head up stairs, their met with the landing - then the master bedroom and two spare rooms. the spare rooms are untouched, pristine. a bed, a dresser. some antiques. they're for his daughters. they never stay.

the main bedroom has a large bed adorned with deep black, silk sheets. a balcony overlooks the grey of the sky; there's two large walk-in closets within the bedroom. one with clothes, the other for more unsavoury hobbies.

going out onto the balcony leads one to another small room, accessible only via here - the room is full of old trinkets and photos. photos of old missions, soldiers, friends and family. it's a physical manifestation of heid's bonds - bonds he struggles to voice or acknowledge. he rarely ventures in there - though it calls to him all of the time.

[gate4043]

This was the first outfit I wore out of the house.

I was terrified. Wearing an old blue shirt I've had for years that was kinda girly but you can't really see it, it was more for me and for my confidence, a black pinafore dress, stockings, and you can't see them but just my white cheap kmart sneakers. I was also wearing breast forms (I think D cup ones) I'd bought off amazon and a shitty Bonds bra that had managed to keep them in place. I hadn't shaved my arms in a while, so I was afraid to take off the jacket. You can't see it, but my bald spot had gotten really bad, which I thankfully didn't notice until I got home.

It was a Saturday. My mum and stepdad would get back from holiday the next day, so I only had that day to do it. But it was late in the day by the time I'd actually mustered up the courage and put together an outfit. My car was parked out on the lawn, and our neighbours talked a lot with my parents and the neighbour across the street was pretty nosey and watched us a lot. I had zipped up my jacket and put on a pair of jeans so that I could drive my car into the driveway, go back inside and take my pants off, then hop back in the car and go to the only shop that was open at 9:30 something on a Saturday that people wouldn't recognise me at.

It did go wrong a little. The part of the garage that opens up to the back was a little ajar, which meant the dog ran through and out into the front yard. I panicked, pulled back into the driveway, and then ran around to the front door and desperately called him in.

I drove to the shop panicking the entire time. It was amazing, and it was scary as shit to be doing it, I assuredly accidentally broke some traffic rules out of sheer nervousness. Rolled up to the shop. Worst experience I've ever had out in public. Everyone stared. Got called a freak by a passerby whispering under his breath, to this day that's the only time that's ever fucking happened. Got inside, bunch of stares and misgendering from old cis white dudes, and everyone else in the shop was actually really lovely. Clocked the checkout as kinda queer, they were super nice about everything, headed home, freaked the fuck out.

Here I am fourteen months later in May of this year

So that's just under six months on E at the time. Went out to a friend's first year E anniversary, it was wild, there were multiple people being held by their partners with leads, there was a person in crazy makeup and a top hat and boot heels and they explained to me where they got their hat, I got to sit in a cute girl's lap and snuggle, it was great.

I wanna talk about confidence

When I was in the closet, when I was finally starting to come out, I was doing a lot more than I'd ever done before. I'd gotten clothes from my brother's fiancée, then girlfriend, which fit me, and I'd dress up around the house and run around with the lights off upstairs because the neighbours on both the front and back of the house could see through into ours and again, they talked. All it would have taken is one dickhead blabbing and suddenly a shitstorm would've broke loose.

I have an awkward body for transitioning. What's worse, I could've prevented it because I've known I was trans for that long. Shoes won't fit me, don't even bother trying, my feet are fucking massive, even for guys. My shoulders are just wide. I know the jacket didn't help, but believe me, it wasn't as thick as it looks. I have a serious body hair problem which I hope to all fuck will get sorted out in some way with hormones, but I expect before long I'll be getting full body electrolysis, damn the expense.

This is why I'm showing this stuff, is because I was not confident, I was not the kind of trans person who posts a bunch of pictures of themselves to the internet and I'm still not that and I don't think I'll ever be that. Right now it's almost 2 AM, I haven't shaved all day, the toilet's clogged and I didn't want to sit down in the water so I was forced to stand up to pee because I was busting which made me feel dysphoric and gave me impostor syndrome at the same time and I have work tomorrow. But I know seeing a trans person I can relate to helps me whenever I'm feeling down, and I felt like sharing this.

It's okay to be a mess of a person, you don't have to be like the really fucking beautiful people I see on the internet all the time. You can be a goblin that struggles to achieve humanity, let alone gender presentation, and that doesn't change who you are on the inside and that doesn't mean that you can't do everything you wanna do and be everything you wanna be. Don't let it discourage you, you're awesome. You're always gonna be awesome. G'night.

[catierambles]

Public Relations Ch.6

Pairing: Clark Kent/Superman x Charlotte Danvers (OFC)

WC 1239

Warnings: None

@kingliam2019 , @greensleeves888 , @peaches1958

Oddly enough, there were no pictures of the two of them the next morning either in print or online. Probably because the guy had shoved Clark and he could press charges for assault if he so chose if the pictures were printed. Charlotte prepared for the meeting with her Acquisitions department, Melissa making sure the mini fridge was stocked with water as Charlotte went over the proposal ahead of time to familiarize herself with the basics. It was solid enough, but she still had questions to which she knew they had the answers.

“Charlie,” She looked up at Melissa’s voice through the phone, “Mr. Daniels from Acquisitions is here for your meeting.”

“Send him in, Mel.” Charlotte said and looked over as the door swung open. “Jeff, thanks for looking into this for me.”

“No problem at all.” Jeff said, “May I ask why you want to acquire The Daily Planet?”

“We’re not in the communications business and I thought it would be good to branch out a bit.” She said and he gave her a look. “Besides, as far as I can tell, nothing is being done with it and I see the potential for growth.”

“It’s not to annoy Bruce Wayne?”

“Not entirely, although that is a pleasant side effect.” She said with a toothy grin and he snorted, shaking his head. “What did Wayne Enterprises say when you reached out?”

“They’re willing to give it up.” Jeff said simply, “But they want something in return.”

“Of course they do.” She said with a shrug, “They say what?”

“The wind farm in the Adirondacks.” He said, “They’re looking to go deeper into clean energy.”

“Yeah, they’ve been eyeing that one for a while now.” She said, “How’s it pan out?”

“I looked over the earnings reports for the last two years from The Daily Planet and the farm and they’re…roughly the same? Not exact because of fluctuations and differences in the market, but not too far off to where we’d take a significant hit.” Jeff said and she sighed, swiveling back and forth in her chair. “However, I share your assessment of potential in The Daily Planet. Physical print has been slowly but steadily dying the more people move online and while the Planet does have a website, it’s barebones and hardly maintained, more a backup than anything else.”

“Okay, what’re you thinking?”

“I’m thinking we get a social media team in there, as well as a web development team. Strip the website down to its foundation and redo it. We also work on their social media presence, Instagram, TikTok, YouTube, that kind of thing. Podcasts that are live-streamed, uploaded to their website, as well as put on podcast hosting services would go a long way. Put in place some kind of subscription service that takes the place of, or adds to, their newspaper home delivery service.”

“Podcasts of what?”

“Live interviews and discussions of current events.” Jeff said, “It would also cut down on their overhead as they wouldn’t have to wait for it to come out in print and spend the resources on that. Many people, myself included, like to listen to their news in audio form while doing something else rather than reading it. Not saying we get rid of their physical print altogether, just narrow the scope a bit.”

“Yeah, I have the Armageddon Update playing in the garage while I work on my cars.”

“Christopher Titus, really?”

“I like his comedy specials.” She said with a shrug. “What kind of growth are we looking at here?”

“Get the right person in front of the camera and behind the mic, either from in-house or outside, and we could see significant growth. The Daily Planet already has a fantastic reputation for integrity, we just need to capitalize on that and dropkick them into current times.” Jeff said and she put her hands on the top of her head, swinging back and forth in her chair as she ran the numbers in her head and thought about potential paths.

“I like it.” She said, “Do it. Work with Legal and the FCC. Start the process of swapping over ownership of the wind farm with the stipulation that they’re not going to go in and clean house. We don’t need any casualties here.”

“You got it.”

“Thanks, Jeff.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He said, “Of course, we wouldn’t do all this restructuring of the Planet until the ink is dry.”

“Oh, of course.” Charlotte said, “And talks of it doesn’t leave this office. Don’t need Bruce catching wind of it, backing out of the deal, and doing it himself.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Jeff said.

“Okay, get on it. Let me know if you need anything.” Charlotte said and he gave her a brief salute, leaving her office. Reaching over, she pressed the button on her phone. “Mel, I’m thinking sushi for lunch, you want anything?”

“Oh, I’m craving eel.”

“One unagi don, you got it.”

“Thanks, Charlie.”

“No problem.”

“Oh, the shipping company from Berlin called while you were talking to Mr. Daniels. You should be getting delivery in the next couple of weeks, but they’ll let us know if there are any delays.”

“Fantastic, thank you.”

“What is it with you and muscle cars?”

“I just think they’re pretty and they give me the happy tingles.”

“Yeah, I bet they do with the engines you put in them.” Melissa said and Charlotte cackled. “Also, Clark is basically a muscle car in human form, so that makes sense too.”

“Nah, he’s more a classic pickup truck.” She said, “Although he does like taking the Shelby out for a spin whenever he comes over.” She paused for a moment, thinking something over. “Hey, Mel, can you see if you can track down a 1954 Ford F100? The condition doesn’t matter, I’m going to fiddle with it anyway.”

“Not your usual flavor. Thinking about a present?”

“I’m flip-flopping the idea around.”

“Yeah, I’ll get on it. There’s bound to be one somewhere.”

“Thanks, doll. I’ll let you know when I order lunch.” She said and picked up her phone, bringing up the texts between her and Clark, typing in a message, and hitting send.

When’s your birthday?

June 18th why?

No reason ;)

Charlie.

Shush.

When’s yours?

July 10th

Marking it down. Dinner tonight?

Yeah, order in or go out?

I thought I’d make you something

That made a slow smile pull at her lips.

Oh yeah?

Yeah

My kitchen or yours?

Yours is better kitted out than mine

Thinking about it, she’s never actually been to Clark’s apartment in Metropolis, although he has mentioned it. Conversation for another time.

Let me know what you need and I’ll get it delivered.

Rather it be a surprise. I’ll be over at around 6 to get a jump on it?

Sounds good to me. I’ll send you the code for the spare key lock box so you can get in if I’m not home yet.

Thank you 🙂

They texted off and on for the rest of the day, although he refused to say what he was making her no matter how many times she asked and she found herself looking forward to it. Charlotte didn’t often have time to make food, opting instead to order in, so this was a rare treat for her. And the fact that Clark wanted to cook her something himself was just adorable in and of its own.

[faithhopeloveandtherapy]

We’re away staying at my mum and dad’s, we’ve been here since 23rd December. My sister, hubs and my two nephews also live a couple of miles away. We’ve had a good Christmas. On Christmas Day, some of us did the local Parkrun. We came home and drank excessive amounts of Buck’s Fizz and I ate a croissant without giving it a second thought (subject of many Christmas Day tumblr ramblings in years past). Then we opened presents for an hour… the girls got stockings and pillowcases “from Santa” as did the baby. Most of the girls’ gifts weren’t surprises but there were a few things that did get a good reaction. The baby got the idea of opening presents this year, but still ended up opening his over a few days as he enjoyed playing with each new thing as it was opened.

My sister and family came over for Christmas dinner. We had the traditional turkey with all the trimmings. Since my parents still have one arm each out of action, we helped out with most of the prep and cooking under their instruction. In the afternoon we opened more presents and then lay around looking at our gifts.

Boxing Day we went for our traditional walk up a local hill. It was cold with a bitter wind but blew the cobwebs away. Since then we have mostly stayed in, doing jigsaws, reading books, napping, eating and drinking. d2 and d3 caught the train home today 🤷‍♀️ apparently they had places to be and people to see. I wasn’t too impressed since we are driving home tomorrow evening anyway, but I guess they’re adult enough to make they’re own decisions (and pay their own train fares). d1 is off tomorrow afternoon to go and stay with her boyfriend on the Isle of Man over New Year.

The baby unwrapped his final present today which is the toy garage of his dreams. He is obsessed with cars, wheels and ramps so he is a very happy boy with this five storey creation, putting cars down a ramp as tall as he is. We’ve done a video call with his siblings and exchanged photos too. Another set of adopters pulled out a couple of weeks ago, so his social worker has been messaging back and forth getting information to update his profile. I can see that he doesn’t look great on paper as he has so many health professionals involved and his development delays and uncertain future make people hesitate, but if anyone were to meet him they would see what a wonderful little boy he is, so much more than the some of his support needs. He needs permanency but it will break my heart when he leaves.

Back to the present, my parents, d1, H and I are sitting in front of the open fire watching Glass Onion. An intriguing film. And here I am catching up on tumblr which is a little piece of escapism.

[louis--wifey]

Mele Kalikimaka

Hawaii x Alaska

Summary: Hawaii joins the Statehouse for Christmas

Hawaii decided to join the Statehouse for Christmas. The day after Thanksgiving she walks towards the house. Connecticut, Maryland, Minnesota, Michigan, Idaho, Montana and Wyoming are setting up outside decorations. Texas is laying on the ground groaning.

She walks over to him, "What happened?"

"New York kick me off of the roof." Texas responds.

"Why?" She asks.

"I miss spelled 'Merry Christmas' is Christmas light." Texas explains. "I accidentally forgot the 'h'."

Hawaii looks up at the roof. Indeed he did, it said 'Merry Cristmas.' "Oh. I'm sorry. Do you need help up?"

"No, just leave me be for a little while."

"Ok." Hawaii responds then walk towards the door. As soon as she opens it. It reveals the chaos. New York is bossing everyone around. Delaware is struggling to put the mistletoe in one of the doorways. California, Nevada, Washington, and Oregon are putting the stockings in order. Florida, Louisiana, and Georgia are decorating one of the fake trees. North and South Dakota are bickering about something. Pennsylvania and Massachusetts are also bickering while walking to the kitchen, they get caught under the mistletoe, PA kisses Mass and also most gets punched in the face until PA points above them, Mass still punches him and he almost gets knocked out. Rhode Island and New Jersey are decorating one of the fake trees. DC and Utah are cooking in the kitchen. Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine are decorating another on of the fake trees. Oklahoma, Kansas, Nebraska, and Iowa are setting the table. New Mexico is sorting couch pillows of one of the couches and Arizona is sorting the other. Colorado, Missouri, and Wisconsin are decorating the last fake tree. Illinois and Indiana are bickering while hanging Christmas home decor. North Carolina and Virginia are making out under the mistletoe. South Carolina, Arkansas, Mississippi, and Alabama are hanging Holly around the house. Kentucky, Tennessee, and West Virginia are wrapping the banisters in garland. And Alaska is no where to be seen.

Hawaii walks over to New York with a smile, "Mele Kalikimaka! How can I help?"

"Go get you fucking boyfriend and tell him to get his Moose ass in here." New York says as nicely as he can.

"Where is his room?" Hawaii asks.

"The garage. That way. You'll know when you see it. " New York points in the direction that the garage is.

Hawaii walks in that direction. She approaches a door with a sign that has the word Garage written on it crossed out and replaced with Alaskan Wilderness. She opens the door to find Alaska sitting on his bed watching Supernatural on his computer. "Mele Kalikimaka!"

He looks over at her, "Merry Crisis."

"Oh, don't say that." Hawaii scolds his playfully. "Mele Kalikimaka me ka Makahiki Hou"

"Merry Crisis and Happy New Fear." He says trying to keep a straight face.

"No! Stop that! Stop being depressed! It's Christmas time. A time for joy not sadness."

Alaska smiles at her, "Fine."

"New York told me to tell you, and I quote, 'get his Moose ass in here'."

"Ugh, I guess I better go." Alaska says and gets up. They walk into main room. "What do you want me to do?" Alaska asks New York.

"Go fixed the Christmas light outside. Texas miss spelled Christmas and I want you to fix it." New York says.

"Why me?" Alaska asks.

"Because you're not doing anything."

"Fine." Alaska walks outside with Hawaii to find Texas still laying ground. "What happened to him?"

"New York kicked him off the roof." Hawaii explains.

"Ow." Alaska laughs the walks over to Texas. "Hey, little buddy."

"Go away. Let me lay here in my misery." Texas complains.

"Suit yourself." Alaska says the goes on the roof and fixes the lights while Hawaii helps Wyoming put up a wreath. When Alaska is done he goes back over to Texas. "Do you need help up?"

"Yes." Texas says and holds his hand up. Alaska takes his hand and pulls him to his feet. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

[rakka-kasahara]

2024-11-4

Dream:

Had a few kind of like usual.

The first one started at Walmart. I think I am in the back with the employees. I go out to start stocking shelves maybe? Somehow, I end up outside in a field next to my high school. So, I think I am missing some parts here. I believe Chroniko is there, and there are a lot of other people. We are playing a game of some sorts and have to get to the other end of the field. Maybe she was leading the game? There are several chain link fences in the way, so I am climbing them. At the end of the field is an alleyway in real life. When get there, it is an alleyway, but it is the one next to my parents' house. We go down it when the ground starts shaking. A large chasm opens up and I fall down it. There is just a flat plane at the bottom and I smack into it. I think I woke up a little after that.

The second one is at a church in my hometown's downtown. We had a lot of meetings and such in the basement of this church. They also did free lunches for students on Wednesday, so a lot of students would walk the three or four blocks to go eat there. I am in the basement with several other students. I don't remember all the details, but one girl asks another girl something along the lines of, "What sea creature, when it undergoes mitosis, is referred to as the Solar Eclipse?" What the heck that means is beyond me. The other girl responds with belga ray, but I think we all knew she meant beluga ray (which I don't think is a real animal, but is some sort of manta ray that divides itself in the dream). The girl who asks the question kind of waits for her to correct herself, but eventually gives it to her since her answer was close enough. After that, we are doing some clean up and there are a lot of kids down there. I accidentally refer to a friend as Carlos instead of Tristan, and he was kind of hurt.

I forgot to update my alarm clock, so I woke up a bit earlier than expected and managed to fall back asleep for another dream. I am at Grandma M's house (my Mom's mom). I have been there for a bit and am packing up to head home that day. My Grandma says she has made some breakfast for me. It is in the microwave in the living over the fireplace, and I can see some sort of pastry in there. I head up to the kitchen, and there is more food and pastries in the microwave in there and on the counter. I guess I will be taking some of it home. I leave the kitchen to go the entryway to start packing my bags. I see my aunt coming downs the stairs with a little orange kitten, and she says she has been keeping it a secret from Grandma. I think there was some trash on the stairs as well. I go back to the kitchen and look out over the living room. There is a cheese stick on the floor and what looks like dog poop smeared across the floor. There is other trash on the floor. I exit the kitchen to the back porch, and it is now my parents garage? I sort lead a truck out of the garage by standing outside and holding the steering wheel of the truck as it moves. It almost hits my dad's truck. At this point, the truck is now backwards and the tailgates are right next to each other. There is a book shelf in my truck that I am transferring to my dad's truck.

Analysis:

Dreams at Walmart or involving high school are pretty common, so I don't think there is too much to read into that one. Chroniko is, of course, my favorite artist.

Since I spent a lot of time at that church, it is no surprise it shows up in a dream, though I don't remember if it had before. Most likely it has and I don't remember it.

For the third, well ... My aunt and her daughter (my cousin) has been living at my Grandma's for about ten and two years respectively. I sort of feel like they are taking advantage of her. They don't really help with much housework, and despite being in her 80s, she still has to mow the lawn and shovel snow, something they could and should do. My cousin also has her own food and doesn't like when other people eat it, so she has her own drawer in the fridge. She doesn't eat much of what Grandma makes, so Grandma usually just cooks for herself. My cousin has a dog as well. It doesn't poop all over, but it has sort of commandeered the basement for itself and is just trapped down there most of the day. My aunt also apparently was thinking of getting a kitten behind Grandma's back according to my Mom. Her house is actually fairly clean, though my aunt's cat does make bit of a litter mess. As for the bookshelf, I am thinking of buying one.

[katherine-villyard]

Book of Shadows

This story was originally published in Love Stories.

When I got home, there was a statement from my retirement account in the mailbox and an eviction notice taped to my front door. I tore open the account statement. My IRA was worth nothing. I guess I shouldn't have invested in my company's stock. I crumpled it up and opened the door. Inside, everything I owned was in boxes. I'd sold my sofa and TV, so there was nothing but boxes and carpet. I'd sold most of my books to the used bookstore. I supposed I could have another garage sale and sell the bookshelves and kitchen stuff, but the eviction notice said I had a week so I'd better hurry. Mom didn't have the money, and I'd cut up my credit card when they jacked up the interest to 29%. No U-Haul for me. Maybe I should abandon all this crap and drive to Mom's, if I could raise money for gas. I was not going to abandon my computer or my father's Book of Shadows. I couldn't do contracts without the computer, and I wasn't going anywhere without the book. I pulled it out and opened it. Inside, spells in my father's handwriting, the sum of his magical life. It even contained the spell they used to conceive me. I turned to the page on fast money. "Hail, Habondia, Lady of Plenty," I began. I felt a sudden surge of grief for my father, but took a deep breath and went on. There were words of power, and I spoke them, calling Her to me. It's important to visualize during a spell. I tried to remember when I felt really prosperous; the measure of my success. My Daddy's pride in me. That was what always made me feel successful. I'd never feel that again. He was gone. As the spell demanded, I took out my last twenty dollars and burned it on the stove. Which was just as well; the spells that demanded a trade were more reliable that the spells that asked for something without giving something in return. Those relied on luck, and it seemed I had little or none to spare. My father had been gone a little over two years. Everyone said it would get better over time. Ha. He was the one who believed in me. He was the one who taught me magic. When I decided to get my degree in computer science, he was the one who never doubted for a moment that I could do it. That was before the cancer. Great workings often shorten the lives of magicians. He never told me what it was that he had done, what had been worth giving up part of his life. What had been worth the cancer eating his bone marrow, the dark magic of chemotherapy that had robbed him of his thick black hair? The change to his tastebuds so only ice cream, popsicles, and cotton candy tasted good had been in exchange for a few months before the cancer had won. Had the cancer itself been a price? And which would be worse, the cancer being meaningless or the cancer being the price he paid for something else? The phone rang. I answered it. "Sandy?" my mother said. "Anna Rodriguez just paid me some money she owed me, so I'm sending it to you Western Union. You can pick it up at the office on University and Oak." "How much?" I asked. "Two hundred," she said. "Is that enough?" "It'll do," I said. "Thank you." Clothes, computer, college diploma, Book of Shadows. The landlord could sell the rest for back rent, or throw it out for all I cared. I went to load the car. I piled the computer equipment on the desk and looked around. My mother had kept my bedroom the same as I had left it, which meant that the Backstreet Boys posters had to go. I hung up my clothes in the closet, next to my prom dress and cap and gown, both wrapped in plastic. I pulled the thumbtacks out of the posters and rolled them up to store them in the closet. Then I flopped down onto the bed, still fully clothed, and slept. When I woke up, I set up my computer. I'd have to ask Mom to get dialup so I could email out resumes. I headed downstairs, where Mom was waiting at the table. "Phew," she said, and wrinkled her nose. "Can we get some kind of Internet so I can email out resumes?" "Does that work?" She poured me a cup of coffee and handed it across the table. "In my day we pounded the pavement." "Well," I said, "you didn't write websites." She shrugged. "Maybe you should consider something else, since that's so slow. Substitute teaching. Clerical work." I made a face. I'd tried that. They said that they wouldn't take me for either, since I was guaranteed to leave them the second anything came along in my field. Ha. I'd been unemployed for two years, ever since the company went under, and no amount of magic seemed to be getting me a job. "I'm sorry," she said, raising her hands. "I always end up saying the wrong thing. If your father were here…" I sighed. "Is there anything I can do to help out?" "I have some software I'd like you to install," she said. "You know I'm hopeless. Your father always handled the computer. Quickbooks; Jennifer says that she couldn't run her shop without it, so I bought it and now I can't figure out how to set it up." She started to laugh. "Hopeless." "I'd be happy to," I said. "Just sign up for whatever you need; you can put it on my credit card." She got up and poured herself some more coffee, then looked back at me. "Have you tried prosperity spells?" she said. No, mother, that never occurred to me. "I miss him, too," she said. "Sometimes I think I would give up ten years of my life to get him back." "Don't you say that," she said. She grabbed the salt shaker and rushed to the sink, filling a glass with water and pouring salt in. She sprinkled me with salt water, then picked up the knife from the butter dish and drew a circle on the kitchen floor around me with it. "You came from the ocean; the ocean will protect you," she said, and sprinkled me with more salt water. "Never say anything like that again." My father's Book of Shadows had a spell to raise the dead, tucked in between the spell to meet your true love and the spell they used to conceive me, which partially involved making love on the beach--too much information, if you ask me. The spell was about a third of the way in, written in his youthful handwriting. Based on the spells around it, he'd probably learned it from Nana, or maybe even great-Aunt Carmella. In the margin, he had written, "Don't even think about it, Sandy," in the shaky, pain-addled scrawl he used at the end of his life. It made me angry. Partly because I was tempted. I really would give ten years of my life to get him back, but I knew that wouldn't be enough. Besides, I knew my father wouldn't want me to shorten my life for his, and that was the price. We're all born with a finite bit of life, and if I wanted him to have more, I had to give him some of mine. At the bottom of the page, in his normal handwriting, it said, "Sandy, ocean child, my greatest bit of magic, my baby girl." I couldn't see the page any more; my eyes were blurry with tears. I closed the book. "Hail, Athena, Lady of Wisdom," I said, and lit a candle. "I'm here to ask for a job. It's been two long years, Lady, and since it was a very mental job, I'm asking You for Your help." I put a resume in the candle flame. It wasn't much of an exchange, but it was the best I had. The resume wouldn't light, no matter how long I held it in the flame. I lowered the paper, and extinguished the candle flame. Offering rejected. I was desperate, and not yet ready to give up. So I relit the candle. "Hail, Athena, Lady of Wisdom. I need a job. Please help me." I placed the resume in the candle flame. It still wouldn't light. I lowered the page, and the flame spread across the underside and singed my fingers. I dropped the resume and swore. At which point it ignited, taking the carpet with it. "Fuck!" I leapt to my feet, and stomped on the flames until they were out. Then I extinguished the candle. As omens went, this was pretty bad. I hit send on the last set of resumes and hung up the connection. That made twenty today. I went downstairs, and found my mother, who asked me to set the table for dinner. I picked up two plates, two forks, and two knives and walked into the dining room. I put a plate, a fork, and a knife at each end of the table. I turned to go back into the kitchen, when something on the mantel caught my eye. It was a large urn. I stepped a little closer. It was unmarked. Mom came in with a bowl of mashed potatoes and a plate with corn on the cob. "Is that…?" I asked. "I forgot you hadn't seen that," she said. "Yes, it's your father." My father. "You should have gone to the funeral," she said. "You probably would have found it comforting… Sandy?" I realized I was shaking. Mom came over and put her arms around me, but I couldn't take my eyes off the mantel. It was like part of me was trapped in that jar. "Honey?" "It's so small," I said. "It's just wrong that it would be so small." Intellectually, I knew that the human body was sixty percent water, but… no. Wrong. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't realize you'd react like this. I would have taken it upstairs or something." "We were just going to eat with him in that…" "Would you rather eat in the kitchen?" I shook my head and wandered back to my chair. Mom gave me a skeptical look and came back with a plateful of meatloaf. Dead burnt flesh, like my father, dead in a jar. I waved the plate away, nauseated, and picked up an ear of corn. "Are you sure?" she asked. I nodded, and spread butter on the corn. She cut into her meatloaf with a knife. It was like watching someone cut Daddy. There was no way I could watch her eat it. I burst into tears, clapped a hand over my mouth, and raced to the bathroom. It was just wrong, and it had to change. He shouldn't have died. Not yet, it was too soon, he was too young, it was wrong. I could feel it in my gut. I had the urn. The other things weren't difficult to get: sea water, a snake skin, a robin's egg, some herbs. The sea water being my special protector was encouraging, although I knew I couldn't rely on that. I didn't know how he would come back to me, if he would still be him. And there were practical things to consider: taxes, health insurance, the insurance money for his death--would we have to give it back? Would he still have cancer? Would we be taking him away from a better place? I suppose this is why no one does it. But I needed to make things right, and his counsel, and his faith, even if he would be angry with me. "Hail, Hecate," I said, standing in a circle of seawater where three roads met. I laid the robin's egg and the snake skin on the makeshift altar. "I offer part of my life for more time with my beloved father. Come back to me, Daddy." There was lightning, and the wind rose, but there was no rain. And then the ceramic urn started to shake, and exploded. I wasn't sure I wanted to look, but I couldn't help myself. Inside the shards was something that looked like a shriveled fetus. It grew, and was then a small, spindly boy with sad eyes. He had cuts on his arms from the shards. "Sandy, no," he said. I wanted to speak, but there was a sudden, unbelievable pain in my legs. I fell to the ground and screamed, and he reached out and touched my arm. His hand was cold, so cold. "You don't have enough life left in you to trade for mine," he said. My hair was falling out. "It's the chemo, isn't it?" I said. He nodded. "I don't think either of us will last until dawn." "Are you mad at me?" I asked. "No," he said. "I should have known. Like father, like daughter." Of course it had never crossed his mind that I couldn't do it. Oh, Daddy. I've missed you. "You were only four when the car hit you," he said. "I couldn't see the license plate, it was moving too fast. I looked down at my baby girl. You weren't moving, your legs were crushed, your neck at an unnatural angle, blood coming out of your mouth. So I gathered you up in my arms, and took you to a place where three roads met. Lucky we were vacationing at the beach, I guess. There were robins nesting in front of the cabin, and I remember thinking this must be why I'd found a snakeskin the other day. It was meant to be." He looked at me, curious. "You don't remember, do you?" I shook my head. "I remember waking up in a place where three roads met. You told me I'd fallen down and hurt myself and asked if I felt better. Was that it?" He nodded. "I should have told you. I thought you wouldn't want to know that you were fated to die young. I'm sorry." "And you got cancer," I said. "I'm so sorry." "What parent wouldn't do the same, if he could?" "I wish I'd told Mom where I was going," I said. "She wouldn't approve." "No." "I didn't tell her, either," he said. "I always felt guilty about that." He looked down at the urn. "If she comes here, maybe she'll figure it out on her own." "Great-Aunt Carmella did it, too, didn't she?" I asked. He smiled at me. "Smart girl. That's why she and my cousin Steve both died so young." He made a face. "Your mother was horrified, thought it was dangerous and wrong. I suppose she was right." "Poor Mom," I said, and felt tears prickle my eyes. I reached up and rubbed them away. "Like father, like daughter," Daddy said, and patted my arm again. "How have you been?" he asked. "I hate having to move in with Mom. I hate the idea that she thinks I'm a loser." "You have no idea," he said. "You could never disappoint us." I snorted. "She's not your mother," I said. "I think I know her better than you do." He laughed. "You're just like her sometimes." I made a face. The sun was rising. Daddy was now some kind of shriveled baby-sized thing, dry and dusty, but he could speak. I reached out a hand, wrinkled and gnarled and swollen with arthritis, and brushed back the wispy remains of his hair, and told him about the coworker I'd had a crush on, about the cute guy who came into the store and bought crystals, about anything but regret because regret didn't matter. It was a fair exchange. We were joined, fated. It was meant to be. As the sun rose, he crumbled into dust and I cried. My hands started to look normal, but they still ached. The arthritis was probably permanent, and I suspected I had cancer--in my bone marrow, like Daddy had. It just made sense. There was no way I could gather up the ashes and take them with me, especially not with my hands so stiff. He was already being dispersed by the wind. I could really use medical insurance right about now. I tried to stand and couldn't; my hips and legs didn't seem to work right. So I lay back and watched the sun rise, and then my feet and legs stopped hurting. I looked down, and they had crumbled into dust. My hands were disintegrating as well. I'd known the price was part of my own life, I'd just thought I had more life to trade. I guess everyone does. But it was a fair trade; it was enough. There wasn't anything to do about it, and I'd gotten what I wanted. So I stopped looking, and watched the wind move the leaves overhead instead. And then I was the wind, and the leaves, and the Book of Shadows lying open on a large stone. And my father. Want another short story? There’s one here. Read the full article

[applepisimmer]

A few more tips from the East coast

-FILL UP YOUR GAS TANK!!!!! It can be difficult to get gas after a storm because of increased demand and gas stations losing power or flooding. This can cause a spike in prices too, and I know y'all already pay too much for that...

-If you live next to the water or in a low-lying area, move your important belongings to the second floor. Consider staying in a hotel or with a friend on higher land. Take important documents with you or make sure they're protected from water damage.

-Avoid walking or swimming in flood waters. If you must, wear boots and jeans or some other durable items and wash yourself with clean water afterwards. Flood waters can contain chemicals, sharp objects, and other dangers you CAN'T SEE.

-Bottled water, bottled water, bottled water. Stock up on it.

-Break out the board games, books, magazines, etc! Even if you still have power, it's best to leave your devices to charge and occupy yourself with something else.

-CHECK YOUR FLASHLIGHTS BEFOREHAND! You don't want to reach for a flashlight and find out the batteries are dead... Nor do you want to waste your phone battery.

-If you have portable phone/device chargers, charge them.

-Surge protectors are smart, but make sure it's okay to use them with the device. Air purifiers, portable ac units, and other large devices may not be okay to use with a surge protector. If you're not a masochist, plug your computer into a surge protector.

-Stay inside. It's tempting to go out when the storm looks calmer, but conditions can change quickly!

-If you must leave your home, take important documents with you!! Make sure you know where they are beforehand so you can grab them quickly.

IF YOU LOSE POWER

-If your powerlines are above ground, it's very likely you'll lose power.

-If you need something from the fridge or freezer, grab it quickly.

-If you have bags of ice and coolers, you can move refrigerated items to a cooler after a few hours (before the ice melts). It's probably best to throw out dairy and meat though.

-Report it to your power company if possible, then sit and wait. Now is a great time to read that book you've been meaning to get to.

AFTER THE STORM

-If you don't have experience using a generator or you aren't certain it's safe to use one with your home, just don't. And no, watching a youtube video does not count as experience. After every big storm, there's always a few idiots that get seriously injured or killed because they didn't know what they were doing. Someone usually blows up their whole damn house too. Don't be like them. Emergency services are busy enough without you blowing yourself up...

-Speaking of emergency services... don't bother them unless it's ACTUALLY AN EMERGENCY. Especially right after the storm. This is not the time to call them with noise complaints...

-Heat after hurricanes and tropical storms can be just as dangerous as the storm, especially if you don't have power. Open your windows to encourage air flow. Drink lots of water. Put a wet cloth on your head/back of your neck/back. Use a battery powered fan. Close your blinds during the day to keep the sun out. Open your windows during the cooler hours of the night and morning. Take more breaks during physical activity. Use paper fans.

-If you can't fit all of your cars in your garage, consider leaving the extras in a parking garage on the second or third floor. Small flying debris could still damage them, but they'll be safer from falling trees, flooding, flying trashcans, etc. Yes... trashcans can fly....

-If you have elderly neighbors or elderly family in the area, check on them as soon as it's safe to do so. If your elderly family member is willing (especially if lives alone, is physically impaired, has dementia), have them stay at your place during the storm.

California doesn't get many hurricanes, which means the infrastructure isn't built with them in mind and the city officials and companies aren't as equipped to deal with them. Be patient.

HEY CALIFORNIA PEOPLE!

HURRICANE ADVICE FROM A FLORIDIAN!

Make sure you've got shelf-stable food and water for everyone in the house, including pets. The rule of thumb is a gallon per person per day. Freeze water bottles if you want cold water.

Make sure you have enough meds!

Make sure you have batteries, candles, flashlights, and a manual can opener. 

Make sure your electronics, including backup batteries, are charged. Unplug things you don't want fried in case of a power surge. 

Don't tape your windows, it doesn't help and you'll just be stuck scrubbing goo off of them later.

Put a mug of frozen water in it in your freezer with a quarter on top of it. If your freezer defrosts, the ice will melt and the quarter will sink and tell you you need to throw things out.

Get everything that's not nailed to a foundation out of your yard. That dead branch hanging on by a thread? Time to get it down (it was probably time to do that three days ago, but now’s better than never).

Park away from powerlines and trees if you can. Rain makes the ground soft and then trees fall over.

Have an evacuation plan to a shelter. Evacuate if they’re telling you to.

If you start to flood, don't go in your attic. You'll get trapped if the water rises too high and you can't hack through your roof. This happened to a lot of people in Texas and Louisiana. Get ON the roof.

Be safe, be well <3 

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Wreckless - Home sweet Home

*Warning Adult Content*

Finnegan Walker

The next week and a half are a blur.

Construction on the new factory floor and warehouse is complete and machines are being installed which comes with a whole new slew of scheduling and production problems.

School has started back up which I thought would make things easier on Megan but the poor girl is losing her mind even though I gave her a big raise.

Emmett has been handling the new place and his which is more than anyone should have to do but at least he's not working this week.

I went over to the new place last weekend so that I could see all the furniture that had been delivered and how the painting turned out.

Let me tell you, the wallpaper that was in our bedroom when I bought the place was hideous.

HIDEOUS.

Our new bedroom is beautiful and Emmett has promised me that we'll be in tonight for good.

I never have to go back to the rowhouse again if I don't want to which I have very mixed feelings about.

Also, he's up to something.

I have been under strict orders to not go upstairs to the attic or down to the basement.

'At all. For anything. Ever.'

Well, until he says I can which I'm really hoping will be this weekend.

I have a feeling I'm getting a playroom downstairs but as soon as I start trying to figure out where other things are going I start to doubt myself.

He's storing something upstairs, that I know.

But what?

I have no clue, there are too many variables.

I have another hour here before I can head home.

Home, it's official now or will be in an hour.

This week has dragged and I have never looked as forward to a Friday night as I am this one.

I haven't been over there since Tuesday and that was such a quick visit that I didn't even go upstairs.

Tonight I'm going to explore every square inch.

"Finnegan?" Megan asks sheepishly.

I don't like her tone of voice or how nervous she looks.

At least she didn't call me Mr. Walker.

"Yes?"

"We don't have anyone to watch the floor tonight... John went home sick."

How is this my problem?

This should be handled four levels below me, at least.

"And Ben?"

He's my production manager and the closest thing I have to a floor manager... he usually handles things during the day.

"Put in his notice, says it's too much work."

"We're not even in production yet."

"Said he can't handle running both shifts, too many hours."

I can't with this right now.

"A trained monkey can watch the floor. Get an extra security guard, hire a rent-a-cop, offer overtime to a few of the construction guys, I don't care."

I want to be upset and I know I sound that way but honestly this sort of thing happens at least twice a day and I'm almost numb to it after the week and month, I've had.

Unfortunately this isn't Megan's problem either.

"Get me the head of something on the phone. Anybody who's still here, please."

"Yes Mr. Walker."

"And Megan?"

"Yes?"

"I'm not mad at you. You know that, right?"

She smiles.

"I do. This week has been insane. I just want to go home and open a bottle of wine."

"Ditto. Get me someone on the phone and then head out. I'll see you next week."

"Thanks, Finnegan."

I'm late leaving the office but at least I have managed to get coverage for the weekend.

It's not ideal and I will have a lot of work to do next week but it's good enough for now. I'm going home.

I press the button to open the garage, park and grab my stuff.

It feels so good, so right, to be here.

I go in the kitchen door and smell... pizza.

Not just any pizza, the best pizza in the world.

"Hi Emmett."

"Hey, darling. Welcome home."

I'm already taking off my jacket.

"I smell pizza."

"I was at my place so brought it with me... I'm too tired to cook tonight."

That's when I finally get a good look and realize that it's a house.

The kitchen has paper towels and dishes, even a sponge in the sink.

He grabs my bendy straw cup and fills it.

He's gotten groceries, the fridge is stocked.

"You did all this? It looks terrific, Emmett." 

I take the lemonade he offers me and take a sip.

Much better.

"Is Marten here?"

"Yeah. I brought him yesterday. I can't believe the new cage you got him."

That had been a surprise.

It's at least twice as big as his old one and I had it delivered this week.

"I want to go see."

"No, pizza first, it's cold enough as is. To the table, grasshopper."

I would normally just eat in the kitchen but why not use all the rooms tonight?

The table looks great although I saw it on Tuesday.

What wasn't done on Tuesday was the gorgeous artwork on the walls or the dishes in the china cabinet.

They're beautiful.

"Where did those come from?"

"It's my parents wedding china, do you mind?"

Something of his mothers?

"Of course not."

I'm glad he brought it... I want this to feel like home to him.

There are fresh flowers in a vase on the table and I have no doubt they're from our garden.

"This looks amazing, Emmett."

"We can change anything you don't..."

"Hush your mouth, it's perfect. The only thing I plan on fucking with is my closet. I'm picky about how it's organized."

He wipes his mouth and grabs another piece.

"Yeah, that's all you, darling."

"So, Emmett, do I get to see downstairs yet?"

His mouth is full so he just nods, then takes a drink.

"Yeah, well Finn can see it. It's ready."

So it IS a playroom.

I'm torn because I wanted to pick some of the stuff for it and I really do want a gym in the house but he wanted me to have a playroom so I will.

Maybe he's cut the space in half although that would be awkward with the layout.

Eh, it's done, I will deal because whatever he's done will probably be great.

"And the surprise in the attic? Is it moved down there?"

"No, separate surprise, we can go up there tonight if you want... do it first."

Okay, the pizza is good but there's no way I can wait any more.

I wipe my hands and jump up.

"I'm going up."

We race up the stairs, then head up into the attic.

The last time I saw it it was rafters, insulation and cob webs.

What in the world is he storing up here?

He comes up right behind me and flips a switch.

I'm pretty sure there was just a bulb with a chain before. Holy shit.

"Emmett."

"Do you like it?"

'Like it? I love it.'

It's a gym but more than that, it's a room.

He's put up drywall and obviously done electrical work.

The floor is done too.

On one side of the staircase is a weight machine, a treadmill and a punching bag and the other side of the room has some mats, free weights and mirrors. I can't even.

"How did you DO this?"

"I had some help from Andy and Peter. I just thought that getting up in the morning, going all the way to the basement and then back up seemed hard and like too much work. This is closer and seems like a good use of the space."

"Are you fucking kidding me? This is amazing."

I throw my arms around him and we end up lying on the mats, staring up at the peaked ceiling.

He put a fan in.

"A fan."

"Yeah and a little fridge with water."

He sounds so pleased with himself and he should be.

"We'll have no excuse now, gonna have to work out."

"That's the downside," he jokes.

"Ready to go downstairs?"

"Yes."

Although part of me wants to spread it out, save it for tomorrow.

This is too much at once, too much great.

Emmett and this house and a gym.

I peek into our bedroom just to remind myself that it's real and then go to visit Marten's room.

"It's purple."

"I like purple."

"I mean it's fine, it's just not what I expected. The cage looks great, does he like it?"

I can't even find him, oh there he is hiding in one of the three hammocks.

"Cutie."

Emmett takes my hand and leads me towards the stairs.

"My bed and some stuff is in the guest room but it's not finished yet."

We go back down to the foyer and then down to the basement.

He opens the door to the larger room and I can't quite breathe.

He wants me to walk in but I can't, not yet.

I have to take it all in first.

There's a wall of shelves with all sorts of toys, a desk, a huge teddy bear, his couch and some poofy seats.

There are more toys and games than I can even comprehend and the rugs.

Oh, the rugs are amazing.

One of a dinosaur and one like Rhys, the rug with the town and roads all over it.

It's beautiful and happy and I can't... I can't.

"Oh my God." 

There's a train.

"Like it?"

Now I am crying or pretty close to it. 

Damn it.

"I love it, Emmett."

"Well then go on in, Finn. It's all yours."

[invisibleraven]

19: Happy Tears. + Reggie, because I know you will make me cry if I prompt this =D

Reggie doesn’t have many warm and fuzzy Christmas memories. He was so young when they moved from Georgia, so all he has of MeeMaw and Pops is photos and the odd cheque on his birthday.

Those pictures show him happy, ripping open gifts in front of the tree, his family looking idyllic in the background.

The first few years in LA his parents make a token effort, do the whole shebang, but by the time he hits eight, they are tired of it. Tell him the truth about Santa, so it’s like his innocence is dashed upon the rocks of cruel harsh reality.

The next year they don’t do a stocking, and then after that the presents dwindle until by the time he’s twelve they don’t even bother to celebrate. Reggie tries to reassure himself that it’s fine. He’s probably too old for Christmas now anyways.

Only when he meets Luke, Alex, and Bobby, they all still celebrate the holidays with their families. Alex does lots of church stuff, Luke helps his neighbours put up the lumineria, Bobby helping his lola make the parol.

Reggie kind of clams up when they ask what he’s doing, deflecting and sidestepping the answer until they forget he never gave one.

He keeps it up for years, never admitting that the holiday lost all meaning for him ages ago.

But then Alex comes out and church becomes a series of condemnations over his sexuality and not a celebration of his faith.

And Bobby's lola has to go into a home, with his parents shipping him off to military school.

Luke ends up running away on Christmas Eve after one big blow up fight with his mom, spending the night shivering and sad in their studio.

So the next year none of them feel like celebrating.

Then the Molina family moves into the old Shaw residence, and don't think twice about the guys pretty much squatting in their new garage. Welcome them with open arms in fact. Rose loves their music, Ray loves their jubilant energy. Carlos loves having older brother figures. And Julie... Julie loves them all.

Julie makes their band better, rises them to a level above. Makes them get noticed. Makes them get interest from the industry.

Reggie is riding a high when he comes home after that meeting, a clear future set before him at last that he barely notices the glowing trees in everyone's windows. All except in his, where the only glow is that of the television.

There are no carols in the Peters home, just slurred words and admonishments. No presents except thrown bottles, punches, and kicks. There is no Christmas here, only the ads for the movies playing on the TV as Reggie loses consciousness.

When he wakes up, he's in the hospital, a bunch of concerned faces surrounding him. "W-what happened?" he slurs, his lip swollen, his eye equally so.

"Your neighbours called the cops. They found you..." Rose lets out a small sob.

"It was real bad suffice it to say," Ray continues, rubbing over his wife's back. "Anyways, they saw Julie's number in your phone under Family..." Reggie blushes, figuring out why the Molinas are here, and though he's a little embarrassed to have made that choice, he doesn't regret it. But then Ray continues, "Your dad... he's gone away for awhile Reggie. Your mom is at a shelter, where hopefully they can help her. But you..."

"They'll ship me back to Georgia. To MeeMaw and Pops," Reggie says, sounding crestfallen. He loves his grandparents, but he hasn't seen them in ages, only gets the card and an super rare phone call. He doubts they want to upend their lives with him at this point.

"Or..." Rose drawls. "You could come home with us. We're registered foster parents, there's a pre-existing relationship there. You do get a say in it Reggie."

"I want to go with you," he says, firm, decisive.

"Well then that's what we'll do," Ray replies. "As soon as you're discharged. There's going to be a lot of paperwork, but you can come home. Celebrate Christmas with us."

"We'll get you a stocking and whatever else you need. Plus something fun," Rose adds.

Reggie sniffles, and his vision blurs with tears. "It'll be my first family Christmas," he admits as he tries to swipe the tears away.

Ray and Rose exchange a look at that, and gently gather him into a hug, promising to make it the best ever.

It really is, full of love, laughter, and more feeling of belonging than Reggie has ever known.

However, it's topped the next year when his present is a swathe of adoption papers, with the option to finally be an official part of the Molina family, right down to his name. He signs them right then and there, and by the New Year, he's Reggie Molina, and every Christmas that follows is a happy one, surrounded by his friend and family.

It quickly becomes his favourite time of year, with good reason, and Reggie is forever grateful for the chance to create new memories, take new photos, and have those times to look back on. Even though the torrent of happy tears that stream down his face in every shot.

[ddrv]

4 Essential Steps to Winterize Your RV

With your summer camping adventures now a distant memory, it’s time to store your RV for the winter. Proper storage will ensure your RV is protected through the coldest months of the year. That way, when spring arrives, you can uncover it and get back on the road in practically no time.

The process of preparing your RV for winter is known as “winterization,” and there are many steps you can take to prepare your RV for long-term storage. The leading RV dealers in your area use many of the same techniques to keep their Class A, Class C, and Class B RVs for sale in prime condition.

Even if you don’t want to go all-out, there are a few things every RV owner must do to fully winterize their RV. Here’s a breakdown of the four crucial steps you need to take to winterize your RV.

Start with Your Hookups and Water Filters

The first thing you need to do is disconnect any attached hookups and turn off your water heater so it can cool before you drain it. Then, remove any inline water filters throughout your RV. As you do so, check each filter to see if it needs to be replaced.

Use your owner’s manual to locate each filter. That way, you can be sure you haven’t missed any. Winter is the ideal time to replace filters that have outlived their usefulness, so take note of which filters need to be replaced and order new ones once you’ve finished winterizing.

Drain Your RV’s Tanks, Water Heater, and Lines

It’s best to start draining by opening the low-point valve on your freshwater holding tank. Fortunately, since this is potable water, you can drain it just about anywhere, but be considerate of your neighbors and avoid creating an inconvenient pond.

Remember, you should only drain your black and gray water tanks at approved locations, and be sure your drain hose is hooked up correctly before you start to avoid a mess. You can use your RV’s tank-flushing system, or products like a cleaning wand and certain chemicals to flush the tank.

Finish by draining your hot water heater, catching the first few gallons in a bucket. That way, you can examine the water for sediment, rust, or scaling to spot any signs of water heater wear.

Add Antifreeze to Protect Your Plumbing

Maximizing the lifespan of your RV means doing your best to keep it in like-new condition, just like the top RVs and travel trailers for sale Boise has to offer. Adding antifreeze to your RV’s system is key for making sure your rig is in top shape to start next season.

You can purchase and install a water pump conversion kit to add antifreeze, or you can use a hand pump and add antifreeze from the exterior water intake. Be sure to check each faucet and confirm you’re filling the system.

Remove and Maintain Your Battery

The last step is fairly simple and quick compared to what we’ve covered thus far. By removing the battery from your RV, you can prevent it from draining over the long winter.

It’s best to store your battery inside your home or a climate-controlled garage. Store it in a polypropylene tub to protect your home or garage in case the battery leaks. You can also keep your battery charged by hooking it up to a battery maintainer. By checking your battery now, you can ensure you’ll have all the power you need for your first adventure of the year come springtime.

About DDRV

When you’re ready to hit the road and immerse yourself in the Gem State’s natural beauty, start your next adventure with DDRV. For nearly 50 years, Treasure Valley families have turned to DDRV for RVs, boats, snowmobiles, ATVs, and much more. After all these years, DDRV is still family-owned. That means you can stop by and shop with confidence, knowing their friendly, knowledgeable staff will treat you like a neighbor, not a number. You’ll also find a fully stocked parts center and a skilled service team featuring the most Master Certified technicians in Idaho. Visit DDRV today to check out their impressive in-stock selection, including a thoroughly inspected used inventory. Discover everything the leading Idaho RV dealers have to offer at DDRV.

Embark on your next outdoor adventure in a vehicle from DDRV at https://ddrv.com/

Original Source: https://bit.ly/3GfKv1s