#i am going to get an ac unit like. this week or i am going to die

[briwhosaysni]

If you have access to a decent amount of ice, putting a bowl of ice in front of a fan can help circulate cooler air in your house. I've also seen more involved tutorials of how to rig up something similar with the ice in a cooler so it lasts longer

Also, definitely make sure you have sport drinks or some other source of electrolytes (pickle juice actually works well, and you can find recipes for homemade electrolyte drinks online). If you're sweating a lot, just water alone will not properly rehydrate you. You need something in additionto water to replace the salts that you're losing

Stay safe, folks <3

I need UK journalists to not show 43 degrees is not beach weather like people are gonna die

Americans do not interact

[supernatural-bias]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭

↳ warning: supernatural elements

↳ notes: requested by anonymous. was going to be headcanons but ended up turning into a one shot. enjoy

↳ song: ghostbusters—ray parker jr.

masterlist | commisions | carrd

This really wasn't supposed to happen.

It was supposed to be a simple job. One of the easier ones you all had gotten hired to do all month. That's what Ray had said to you as you zipped up the front of your uniform in the firehouse, and you believed him.

A customer had called in last week, sounding out of breath as they complained of a room in their house that always felt cold when they walked into it. You could practically smell the incense through the phone, and your suspicions were confirmed when you later stepped into their house.

After Peter had sarcastically made sure it wasn't just a problem with their AC unit, Janine penciled them in for an inspection a few days later, and that was that. You and the rest of the Ghostbusters went to the nearby Chinese restaurant that night and forgot all about it.

Now, you were hiding behind an overturned table as an apparition whizzed over your heads, shrieking in a language none of you could decipher.

"I thought you said this was a class one spook!" You shouted at Egon as he fumbled with a trap nearby. He shot you an irritated look through the rims of his glasses, as if to say 'what am I supposed to do', before going back to tinkering with the trap in his hand.

"Someone's gotta get out there and distract it!" Peter yelled over the noise of plates being smashes. You winced, imagining that the client wouldn't be too happy to hear that their kitchen was ransacked during the procedure. If you could even call it a procedure.

"Ray! You're up!" Winston called from his place next to you, shoving his coworker out of the hiding spot just a little.

"No way! It was my turn last time!" Ray griped. As he said that, a stray fork flew by his head, nearly missing the side of his face as he yelped and ducked further under the tables cover.

"I'll do it." You volunteered whilst reaching for the proton pack at your back. You were sure that if you looked over at that moment, you'd see Ray sending you the most grateful look you'd ever seen.

The others waited for Egon to finish preparing the trap, Peter mostly yelling at him to hurry up, as you rose from your place on the tiled kitchen floor.

The ghost turned to look at you as you let out a wolf whistle. It's hair floated wildly around its head like a crown of thorns, and you heard one of the guys from behind you gulp with difficulty.

"Hey Casper!" You grinned with what you hoped was a considerable amount of bravado. "Why don't you don't you pick on someone your own size?"

You wouldn't remember falling onto your back after the ghost charged straight at you. Nor would you remember how it slimed down into a fine mist, slipping into your mouth with a hissing noise. Bruises covering your spine would leave the evidence of a fall later on, but that was the only sign that anything had happened.

The boys watched as your eyes rolled back to reveal a milky white gaze. Peter nearly dropped the nozzle to his proton pack as you began to levitate; your chest rising and falling at a rapid rate. For a minute, it reminded him of when Gozer had possessed Dana. Although, you were his friend, not fiancé, and wearing a jumpsuit instead of a dress.

"Uh guys?"

"I'm seeing it, Winston." Ray replied without taking his eyes off of you. Wind began to pick up in the house, blowing his hair to the side as he watched you with wide eyes.

"Egon!" Peter yelled over the noise. "The trap??"

"Done!" He finally announced. "Someone hold them down!" The scientist shouted, forehead beaded with sweat as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He stood up with shaking hands, nearly dropping the trap as he stepped around the table and towards you.

Ray and Winston both grabbed your arms and legs, pulling you down from your spot in the air with a considerable amount of force. Peter attempted to push you by your chest, but was headbutted by the ghost and sent flying backwards. You, or rather the ghost occupying you, made a sound between a cackle and a scream.

"I've never wanted to punch a ghost more than I do now." Peter groaned from the floor as he hauled himself back up. He'd have to get Dana to check him for a concussion later.

"I need a stream, Venkman!" Egon stepped away from the Muon trap as if it was a live bomb. "Ray, Winston, on our count let go of them and duck!"

"Don't have to tell me twice!" Winston said as he avoided yet another kick from your boot.

The sound of an engine powering up filled the room as Peter and Egon switched on their packs, directing the end of their nozzles at you. The two men glanced at each other nervously and Egon's foot hovered over the traps pedal anxiously. You just continued to flail.

"You sure this won't hurt them?!" Ray yelled. He brought his head back a significant amount as the ghost inside of you attempted to bite at him.

"No idea!" Egon fumbled. His glasses were nearly flying off of his face with the wind, but he pushed on. "Now, Peter!"

Ray and Winston made a dive for it as two multicolored streams encased you in a bright light. The spirit inside howled with discomfort, kicking its legs in an attempt to escape.

Without warning, Egon stepped on the trap, releasing a beam that shot into the air and struck the ceiling. He knew from experience that there would be a faint singe mark left on it later, but that was the least of anyone's concerns. The client would just have to deal with it.

Taking careful measure not to bump your body into any stray debris, they guided the spirit closer and closer to the trap until its form began to separate from yours. The horrible sucking noise it made nearly coerced Egon to drop his gun to cover his ears.

One moment, you were floating in the air, speaking tongues and way too close to a piece of dangerous machinery. The next, you were laying in a pile of broken china plates as your eyes rolled back into place.

"Hey. Hey, bud, come back to us." Peter said, slapping your cheek slightly to bring you back down to earth. He had been the first to drop to the ground next to you, lifting your head up to make sure nothing had scraped it in the fall.

Ray came next from his hiding spot behind a now splintered chair, then Winston's wide eyed form, and finally Egon holding a smoking trap.

"Vitals appear to be steady." Ray said. He pulled his fingers away from the spot on your neck he had been checking, looking at the rest of them. He sighed like a ten pound weight had been lifted off his chest.

"You worry too much Stanz." Peter said, jesting. But his usual playful tone was dampened, and he didn't look up until you groaned.

"Did anyone catch the number of that bus that ran me over?" You hissed, shielding your eyes from a nonexistent bright light.

Silence.

Winston broke out into laughter first, with the rest following suit. Egon smiled as Peter giggled, and Ray was practically rolling on the floor.

"Trauma response." Egon said between baritone chuckles, only able to get one word out at a time. "Surprised this is the first time we're having one."

"Do I even have to ask what happened?" You said while pushing yourself up on your forearms. Winston just shook his head at you, and slapped you on the back.

"We'll tell you back at the firehouse, kid." He said with a shake of his head. You frowned at the nickname, but eventually let a smile crack.

The five of you sat in each other presence for a little bit, letting the laughter die down as the mood came to a stop.

"So—" Peter cleared his throat.

"—who wants to be the one that talks to the client?"

You were left sitting on the floor as they all scrambled to get out, surrounded by broken glass.

"Assholes."

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 6

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

Sorry this chapter took much longer than usual. I wasn't sure if I wanted to share this on the page but y'all might already know... I'm a nurse. So my schedule is nice because I only work 3 days or nights a week but... sometimes those days/nights knock me on my ass. This week was no exception.

I really appreciate every single person who has liked, reblogged, and commented on my work. It means EVERYTHING to me. I hope you all enjoy this part!

Masterlist + Playlist

Word Count: 2.2k+

You had been flipped to nights this week and your body was suffering from the sudden change to your circadian rhythm. You and Carly walked to the parking garage in exhausted silence together as the sun rose over the hospital. It was a hard night to say the least, you both were assigned to unstable elderly patients that seemed to be circling the drain. It almost felt cruel to keep them from dying peacefully because there was no way they were ever going to get better. The life sustaining care you were forced to give was just prolonging the inevitable. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, Bradley tried to text you when he woke up at 5am for work to ask how your shift was going. You quickly responded that it was crazy and that you couldn’t talk until you got off at 7:30.

Bradley Bradshaw: Please tell me you’re out of there and able to see this incredible sun rise

You: I am, thank God! I love San Diego sunrises

“Who’s that?” Carly peered over at your phone and saw the name, “Oh my god! He’s checking in on you post shift?!”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s his second time checking in on me, he texted me when he got up earlier but I said things were too crazy on the unit to talk.”

“What happened between you two then?” She asked, “You said he didn’t stay the night or anything.”

You knew she was going to ask for more information soon enough. You two were on your feet caring for your patients all night so there was no time to catch up at the nurse’s station. “He didn’t. But we hung out for a while, talked, drank a lot of wine, and he couldn’t drive himself home. So he took an Uber and then took me to brunch when he came to pick up his car.”

“He didn’t kiss you?” She asked.

You shook your head, “Nope, didn’t after brunch either.”

“Huh,” she looked puzzled, “He’s obviously so into you, we could all see it at the bar. And he took you out on a date. And he’s texting you first thing when he wakes up… he obviously likes you. Why hasn’t he kissed you?!?!”

You shrugged, “I mean, maybe he isn’t and he just wants to be friends. I also feel like dating a former patient probably breaks some kind of nursing ethics code.”

It was something that occurred to you after brunch with Bradley the day before, the possibility of this flirtation messing with your professional life.

Carly’s face dropped when the two of you stopped at your car, “Oh my god… I hadn’t even thought of that.”

You shifted your weight uncomfortably, “Yeah… so I’ve gotta ask you and I’d like you to pass it on to Madi and Sam too, not to discuss Saturday or my… friendship with Bradley at work.”

She nodded, “Of course, I’m sorry I even brought it up briefly when we got on the unit last night.”

“It’s okay, no one was around to hear. I’m just not very well liked by the senior nurses and some of the providers. I just don’t want to give them something to talk about, you know?” You explained.

“Absolutely. When is your contract up?” She asked.

“4 weeks, they asked me to extend though.” You rubbed your eyes, desperately trying to stay awake.

“Are you gonna do it? Or is it too early in the morning to talk about this?” She giggled.

You nodded, “Bingo. Let’s leave this as ‘to be continued’.”

“Alright, get home safe.” She waved you off and headed towards her car a few spots away. 

Once in your Toyota Corolla and buckled, you blasted loud music and freezing cold AC to keep you awake and alert on your commute home. Once there you peaked at your phone.

Bradley Bradshaw: Now that you’ve enjoyed the sunrise, you gotta get your ass to bed.

You: Yes sir, I’ll be out of commission until 1500 hours.

When you arrived home, you looked at your phone again to see Bradley replied with the saluting emoji. You dragged yourself out of the car and up to your apartment, in front of your door was a plastic takeout bag. The parcel was still warm when you picked it up, it was clearly left there just minutes ago. You blinked through your exhausted blurry vision and saw a note typed in the comments on the receipt… it was from the same place you had brunch with Bradley two days before.

“After working through the night, you deserve a true Californian breakfast and a nap. —Bradshaw”

This may be one of the most thoughtful things anyone had done for you in a while. You were so exhausted, you didn’t realize how hungry you were until you caught a whiff of the parcel. When you entered your apartment, you threw your bag down and went straight to the kitchen. You opened the bag to find a breakfast burrito neatly wrapped in aluminum foil, Bradley’s go to menu item. Maybe it was because of the surprise of it waiting for you at the door or because you were absolutely starving, but that thing tasted better than sex. You started your post night shift ritual with a shower. After brushing your teeth, doing your skin care, and changing into comfy clothes, you drew the black out curtains in your room, turned on the sound machine, and set an alarm for 2pm before popping a melatonin gummy. After many years as a nurse and often flipping between days and nights, you had this sleep ritual down to an absolute science.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 

Y/N <3: thank you so much for breakfast. That may be one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.

Rooster’s heart fluttered when the message flashed across his phone around 8AM. The Dagger Squad had just finished running a drill that ended with 200 push ups. That small rush made him forget how his muscles were screaming at him. He went to reply and saw the “do not disturb” icon was on. He was so glad since that meant Y/N was most likely sleeping. So he left a reply for her to wake up to.

Bradley: I’m glad it came just in time! Hope you’re taking the best nap ever :)

“Is that sexy nurse?” Natasha inquired as she peered over his shoulder.

Rooster rolled his eyes, “Phoenix, she has a name… and that’s none of your business.”

“So yes,” she smirked, “you are texting her.”

“I’m replying to her,” he corrected, “she worked all night last night and is on again tonight. So she won’t get it until she wakes up.”

She stood on her tip toes to get a better look at the screen, “You sent her breakfast?!?!”

Bradley was not loving this line of questioning but he knew he had to answer or Phoenix would never lay off, “I sent UberEats for her to come home too.”

“You are down bad, my friend.” She shook her head.

“Am not.” He quipped back.

“ Are too!” She shoved him.

“That’s not fair Phoenix, just cause you’re one of the boys doesn’t mean I’ll stoop low enough to shove a woman.” He groaned.

She chuckled, “You’re just scared to get your shit rocked, Bradshaw.”

Hangman suddenly appeared beside Phoenix, skillfully placing her in a headlock. “Is this little lady giving you trouble, Rooster?”

She squirmed and screamed, “Hangman, I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

“Ya know Phoenix,” he sighed, “Forever the bully.”

Phoenix reached over and Hangman a firm tap in the junk, causing him to jump and release her.

Rooster couldn’t help but smile as the two of them fought like siblings.

“I was asking him about the hot nurse from the other night.” She explained, “He’s texting her and sent breakfast to her place for her to come home to after work.”

Hangman’s face lit up, “Bradley, Bradley, Bradley… I never thought I’d see the day. You’re courtin’ a fine lady.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, “Courting is a strong word. I’m showing her that I’m… kinda interested.”

Hangman and Phoenix gave each other knowing looks.

Natasha nodded, “Uh huh, yeah. Sureeeeee.”

2pm rolled around and Bradley was wrapping up his work day on base.

Y/N <3: Not the best nap ever but pretty damn good. I’m gonna walk on the beach and get some sunshine before it’s back to the dungeon for the night. What are you up to for the rest of the day?

Should he shoot his shot? She wouldn’t keep engaging with him if she wasn’t at least a little interested, right?

Bradley: Joining you for a walk on the beach if you’ll allow it.

Y/N <3: I would love that. What time can you be at my place?

This was good. This was really good. She’s invited him back to her place. 

Bradley: I gotta change out of my uniform and stuff, how does 3 sound?

Y/N <3: Perfect, I’ll see you soon :)

Rooster had an extra skip in his step as he packed up his things, grateful for the 6am start allowing his work day to have an early finish. Once in his Bronco, he sped home to change into some casual clothes. He decided to really shake it up and not wear his usual Hawaiian shirt and jeans combo. A UVA t-shirt and some gym shorts seemed a lot more appropriate for a casual beach walk. Bradley really couldn’t believe he was putting that much thought into what he wore for something so casual. 

When he walked up to her door he could hear music through it. Whatever Y/N was listening to, she was clearly jamming. When he knocked, she quickly called out, “It’s open!”. He got a better listen to the music once the door was open, it was high energy with a… saxophone? It was kind of lit.

“What is this?” Bradley asked, “It’s awesome!”

“Modern Woman by Bleachers,” she entered the living room wearing a similar outfit to his, a university t-shirt and gym shorts, “Isn’t it great? Kinda gives me Springsteen vibes.”

He paused and listened a little more, “Yes, that’s spot on!”

“Let me just make sure I have my life together for work, so I can just change and leave later.” She said, heading toward the kitchen.

He took another good look at her as she took her lunchbox, water bottle, and an energy drink from the fridge and set it out on the counter. Fresh faced from her nap, hair in a bun, shorts and a t-shirt… he had never seen anything more beautiful.

Y/N paused for a moment and looked over at Rooster, “Is everything okay? Do I have something on my face?”  

He shook his head, “Yes, everything’s great… you look great.”

She smiled shyly and continued her task, “Thank you, Bradley… are you ready to head to the beach?”

“Hell yeah,” he asked, “which beach are we headed to?”

“Nothing fancy, just the beach a few blocks away.” She shrugged, “Hope you don’t mind tagging along on my normal, boring jaunt.”

He shook his head, “Y/N, nothing with you could be boring. I’d have fun watching paint dry.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 

The two of you walked along the shoreline; the waves ebbed and flowed across the sand and towards your feet. The wind whipped across your face and through your hair, making it dance wildly. Bradley looked so handsome beside you, you couldn’t help but stare and hope that maybe it would be less obvious since you had sunglasses on.

“I should start doing this more, it’s much more pleasant than running.” He chuckled to himself, “It’s so peaceful.”

You giggled, “Drinking bleach is more pleasant than running, in my opinion.”

“You’re not a runner?” He asked.

“Not unless something’s chasing me.” You quipped.

A smirk slowly crept across Bradley’s face. You weren’t exactly sure what was going through his head but you felt the sudden urge to start sprinting. Next thing you knew he was hot on your heels and you couldn’t help but giggle breathlessly, running on sand was so freaking hard! Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off your feet with ease.

“BRADSHAW!!!” You cried out through your giggles, leaning your head back on his shoulder behind you.

His face burrowed into your neck, “You say you’re not a runner but you’re pretty speedy.”

You turned your head to look at him, nose to nose, still giggling breathlessly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said simply.

It was like two magnets, your lips crashed into his, there was no force that could stop it. Once you realized what you did, you quickly pulled away, “I’m so sorry.”

He placed you gently back on your feet, “Y/N, the only thing you owe me an apology for is stopping.”

Your stomach fluttered, “Soooo… you wanna do it again?”

“Kiss me, you fool.” He chuckled, grabbing you by the cheeks and stroking them sweetly with his thumb.

You stepped closer so you two were chest to chest and gently brushed your lips against his. With a jolt of pure electricity, you pressed deeper into his kiss. It wasn’t until this moment, when you tasted his lips, that you realized how fucking starving you were.

Tag list:

@sarah-bear706318

@dizzybee03

@that-gay-person-27

@alwayshave-faith

@caitsymichelle13

@thespillingvoid

Please message or comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

[multifandommilfs]

The Jürgen Theory

Pairing: Olivia Benson x reader

Wc: 840

Fluff!

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At first, it was a drop of water on the car's windshield as you and Olivia advanced towards the suspect's address that was currently pinging on the GPS to swerve away from high-traffic areas.

 

In the passenger seat, you craned your neck so you could gauge the incoming weather. "I hope you're not getting your hopes up expecting rain in mid-July." Olivia said from the driver's seat nonchalantly.

 

You cast her a side eye, flopping back into your seat. "To live without hope is to cease to live. Stop being such a party popper Liv, it's been in the 80s°F since last week. A girl should hope for some rain before we all faint from heatstroke."

 

Olivia sputtered out a laugh. "Did you just quote me on Jürgen Moltmann? I can't believe I've been working with a nerd all this while."

 

Her verbal blow made you smack her on the arm as you made a face of faux offence. "You're calling me the nerd? I'm not the one who knew the quote was Yurgen's or whomever you said it was."

 

However, she knew from your perfect pronunciation of the theologian's name that you had begun to rage a banter. "Says you, I bet you even looked up the pronunciation. Any normal person would've said Yargen instead of Yurgen." She clocked on the blinkers, maneuvering the car into a neighbourhood as a few drops of rain splattered against the windshield.

 

"And the fact that you have that information makes you more of a nerd than I am." Your laugh barked out, luring hers out as well. "Touché." And the both of you were trying your best to contain the unending waves of laughter pouring out of your throats, knowing the debate was over at your catch.

 

Your eyes trailed out the window when the car pulled up at the sidewalk closest to the building, skimming for your suspect in case he wanted to get a headstart while Olivia double-checked the GPS for the right address. "You ready?" Her tone turned grave and you nodded, sliding out of the vehicle in tandem with her.

 

The rain was more compact now, hitting your face every few seconds and making you hope you'd have luck by your side to stay relatively dry until you got back to the unit.

 

It took a while to reach his apartment, but when you did, your suspect's fight-or-flight instincts took over as soon as you flashed your badge. He leapt out from the fire escape, forcing you to follow this trail as Olivia rounded the apartment building.

 

She skidded around the corner into the alleyway, just in time to witness your tumbling down the suspended ladder after the suspect, simultaneously dragging him down onto the rough concrete ground with your body weight.

 

It seemed to take a whole thousand raindrops bursting against your skin and soaking your clothes as you cuffed the innocent-screaming suspect before handing the guy over to Olivia who shoved him into the backseat by the top of his head.

 

"80s°F and raining; it looks like Jürgen is the winner here." You sent her a smug smile despite the shiver that crawled up your spine. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." She rolled her eyes in defeat, not trusting her teeth to not chatter and subsequently further your teasing.

 

She caught your winner's grin as she reared the car to life and you switched off the AC when you saw her fingers tremble as they gripped the steering, taking no consideration into the suspect more than pissed off objection.

 

Then it was all easy-going back to the unit when you and Olivia were sent back home due to a good job, late hours, and wet hair.

 

You two clocked out without a complaint, knowing Fin could finish off the interrogation better than two shivering wet detectives, one drier than the other but still on the same level of 'drenched to the core'.

 

It wasn't until you winded down for bed that you realised the trouble you both were in. "Don't tell me it is what I think it is." You slapped your hands on your face in bed when you sneezed for the third time that night, your back aching from the previous fall. It made you regret all the choices you made that morning.

 

"Looks like Jürgen doesn't have your back." Olivia laughed before succumbing to a fit of coughs, leaving you wheezing at her sickness's timely attack and puns.

 

"Yeah I'll bet he doesn't have yours either." You made an aggressive inhale, shifting up your pillow for a better angle of breath.

 

"And don't you even think about going to work tomorrow. I'm taking care of you." You continued, voice going snotty.

 

"Haven't you heard of survival of the fittest? We'll see who takes care of who tomorrow." Her flaunt made you smile wordlessly because despite her tough exterior, you already knew you'd be the one taking care of her tomorrow. She only proved you right when she let out another round of wet coughs.

[trashboatprince]

Here we go again, another one-shot of Fourteen in retirement!

And this time it's about them and their retirement squish~

Warning: anxiety issue for the Doctor that makes them too nauseous to eat (Don't worry, this isn't going in a specific direction, this is just general anxiety making someone feel sick)

As always, I use they/them for Fourteen. Also, at this point, I'd like to think that Fourteen is keeping in contact with some of the companions, like Tegan, Ace, Martha, the Fam, so if you're wondering about the mention of Ace or their friends, it's that.

Also, the art is mine. I know I've posted it before, but this fic is based on the doodles.

On with the fic!

--

"Oi! Spaceman!" Donna's voice carried from somewhere beyond the bathroom door. "Hurry up! Breakfast is almost ready and I am not saving you a plate!"

The Doctor scoffed, shouting back that they were finishing up with getting dressed.

"Yeah, yeah, just make it quick!"

They rolled their eyes, smiling as they grabbed for the button up hanging from a knob on a cabinet in their personal bathroom. Ah, it was such a nice thing to have now that they owned their own home, not having to share a bathroom with Rose like at the temporary home UNIT gave them.

They hadn't expected to meet someone as high maintenance as themself when it came to getting ready in the morning, but Rose was a worthy opponent for races to the bathroom.

They hummed to themself as they got the buttons done up on the shirt with an unconscious ease, their attention mainly on their reflection in the mirror. Did they need to shave, they thought as they grabbed for their favorite vest.

Hmm... probably not, it wasn't anything serious. In fact, they thought they looked rather-

Huh?

The Doctor frowned, tugging at the vest, trying to get the button into its hole, but noticing that it... wasn't quite making it. That's odd. Had this shrunk in the wash? Oh, they told Sylvia how to wash it specifically, she better not have just tossed it in!

This is why the Doctor usually just did their laundry in the TARDIS, she always did their clothing perfectly in her machines. For the most part. Sometimes there was a hiccup or two.

Looking down, the Doctor struggled to get it through the hole before finally succeeding. But it wasn't a perfect victory, it was... it was a really tight fit.

"This is... tighter." They frowned, tugging on the vest, and noticing something else.

It wasn't the only thing that felt a bit tight.

The button up fit fine enough, not yet tucked into their pants, but the pants themselves? Well, they felt a tad bit tighter around their waist, and the Doctor wasn't exactly liking that. They tried to adjust them, but it wasn't much.

"Did you shrink in the wash too?" They asked their clothes before lifting up the shirt, eyes widening a little.

Oh, that's new.

There was a slight difference to their waist, a bit more to it than they really remembered. Actually, when was the last time they really checked out this new-old body? Hmm... probably not since their first week of retirement, when they finally sat down and did a self-check over all of their body.

Same face and teeth, same eye issue which required the glasses to be worn a bit more often because it was slightly more annoying now, same minor issues that the old face had. Except there wasn't a mole on their back, it was actually up on their left hip, which was interesting.

There was also the fact that they were much thinner and a bit more worn down this time around, which Donna have pointed out a few times.

Oh, and more freckles, but that was more for the Doctor to be excited over, they liked the freckles. Freckles were cool.

Uhg, Chinny was still an influence, wasn't he?

Still, this was different. The Doctor poked at their stomach, feeling the softness when it had been a bit harder before. What was going on?

How had they not noticed this before? Had it happened overnight? Was it something they ate? Had it happened when they got into that drinking challenge on Sebvie 4 with Ace last week? They hadn't been sure of some of the drinks the Sebv had challenged them with...

Or was it from eating that biscuit they found in the TARDIS library yesterday?

"DOCTOR! Hurry your arse up!" Donna's shout snapped the Doctor from their worried thoughts and they quickly bolted from the bathroom, tossing off the tight vest. They'd deal with it later, best not to keep the family waiting.

"What took you so long?" Donna huffed as the Doctor rushed to the table, jumping into their favorite chair at it.

"Oh, you know." They grinned, gesturing at themself. "Takes a lot of work to be this beautiful."

Donna scoffed, then handed them a cup of coffee, perfectly measured to allow them to pour as much flavored creamer and sugar into it as they'd like.

Breakfast was a full spread, as it always was on Sundays, and the family tucked in. The Doctor decided to distract himself with conversation and tasty food, ignoring the slight, unexpected weight gain.

However, while they were washing dishes, it came back to them as they shifted where they stood. The pants were still tight, and it was bothering them. They felt tighter.

They'd need to run some tests, look into whatever this was. If it was dangerous, it could affect his family! Can't have that! Maybe it was a strange side effect of being on Earth this long?

No, no, they'd been on Earth for ages before, several times. They never had this issue.

But then again, the Doctor had been quite active. Running about, solving problems, not staying in one place like this. Even working in the Black Archives now wasn't anything like working as the Chief Science Officer before.

"Somethin' on your mind, son?" Wilf asked and the Doctor turned to look at him, as he pulled the milk from the fridge. The Doctor held out the mug they had been washing, might as well let him use that if he was getting himself tea.

"Oh, it's... nothing. Just thinking."

"Thinking about what?" Wilf took the mug and grabbed for the kettle that had been on the stove, pouring himself hot water for his tea. "Work stuff? Aliens?"

"Uhhh..." The Doctor didn't want to trouble him with this issue. "Thinking about this video that Rose showed me the other day. Really interesting stuff, it was this guy playing video games and talking over them. She said I should do it, would be really funny."

"Oh yes." Wilf laughed. "I don't understand any of that nonsense."

"Yeah, neither do I." The Doctor grinned, once more distracted, probably for the best.

--

"This might be a problem." The Doctor muttered to themself as they stood in their bedroom, looking at the mirror before them.

It was Thursday now, just days after the discovery on Sunday, and the Doctor hadn't done much to look into what could have caused the softness around their middle.

But it seemed to be in other places as well.

They knew their body well, it was Time Lord nature to do so. They could tell that there was more of this softness in other places. Just barely there, nothing to be noticed by anyone else but themself. A tiny bit in the arms, the thighs, and maybe just the slightest bit in the chest and face, but it was mainly there in the small pudge around their middle.

They stood in front of the mirror in their boxers, and watched as their reflection pinched the squish. They wracked their brain over what caused it, but nothing came to mind.

Well, except for one thing. Which should have been obvious from the start, but their instincts didn't really... click for that.

It was just weight gain. Perfectly, ordinary weight gain. A normal thing for normal species, right? Well, not for the Doctor. Because the Doctor always ran, always forgot to eat, always did this and that and didn't eat much except for nibbles and such.

But being with the Noble-Temple family meant living by their schedules. Three meals a day, Donna made sure of it. With tea (or in the Doctor's case, coffee) time, and some snacking through the day as they worked on projects at home, in the TARDIS, or on the days they went to work.

Was this normal?

To gain weight like this?

They'd been retired for about six or so months now, was this supposed to happen? Were they doing this thing right? Or was this a bad sign, that they were not doing this correctly, that this was a step in the wrong direction?

The Doctor turned away from the mirror, they needed to stop looking and get back to getting dressed. They grabbed a t-shirt from the closet and some jeans. No work today, they were going to fix the old box TV in Wilf's sunroom so he could watch programs from another galaxy.

They smoothed their shirt down and bit their lip, an uncomfortable feeling was in the pit of their stomach, twisting itself in knots. Uhg, they hated when they got themself so worked up like this. Maybe fixing the TV would help with anxiety.

--

Donna watched her best friend at the dinner table. They had spent most of the meal chatting with Wilf and Rose about the TV in the sunroom, and how it could get access to over nine thousand channels.

She had noticed that the Doctor hadn't really touched much of their dinner. When dinner was done, she helped them with the dishes, where she washed and they put away. "So, not hungry tonight?" She asked as casually as possible.

The Doctor paused while drying off a bowl. "Huh?"

"You hardly touched your dinner tonight. You like curry, you told me my mom makes delicious curry, you typically ate two helpings."

They looked at her, frowning just a little, before putting the bowl in the cabinet. "Just... not hungry tonight."

She pulled the plug from the sink and turned to face them completely. "Bull, what's on your mind?"

"Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Don't tell me that nonsense, Doctor. I know you." She jabbed a wet finger against their chest. "You have been troubled by something lately. You think you're so good at hiding that, but you're not. I'm your best friend, I know you inside and out. Literally. Your mind was my mind for a while."

The Doctor squirmed where they stood and they looked a bit pink in the cheeks as they glanced around. Then they sighed, leaning in close. "I... I think I'm failing this retirement thing..."

Donna raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I just... I noticed something. On Sunday. And I think it's a sign that I'm doing bad at this, that the calm life isn't working for me."

She felt the pricklings of worry as she listened, and she touched their arm. "Go sit down, we're gonna talk about this."

"Do we have to?" They asked, a whine in their voice.

"Yes, you knob. If it makes you feel better, we're do this in your weird study." The Doctor nodded and left the kitchen for said study, which was more of just a room full of weird books and things they had collected over the years, and a couch that looked uncomfortable but was the complete opposite.

That's where she found them sitting when she entered the room, two mugs in her hands. One with coffee with just a dash of milk, the other one mainly that nasty candy bar creamer with a dash of coffee, just as the two of them liked their drinks.

The Doctor took the offered mug, looking at it with a complicated stare. Donna rolled her eyes and sat down on the other side of the couch, taking a long drink from her mug. "Start talking."

"About?"

"What you think is the matter."

With a small, weird noise from their throat, they set the mug aside to adjust how they were seated on the couch. They leaned back and grabbed at the hem of their shirt and slowly pulled it up. "I've gained weight."

Donna stared at their torso, where there was a bit of pudge there, nothing to really write home about. "Really? That's it?"

The Doctor looked at her, confused. "What do you mean 'that's it'? Is this not... I dunno, a bad sign or something?"

"How?"

"I-" And then they stopped, giving this some thought. "I don't know. I mean, is it normal to gain weight when recovering and taking the slow path?"

Donna groaned, slapping her forehead. "You're the smartest person on Earth, and yet you are a great, big doof! Of course it's normal!"

"It is?"

"Yes! It's a perfectly good sign, actually! Lots of people gain weight when recovering from stress, trauma, and PTSD! My granddad did after the war, told me so himself. Said he came back a scrawny thing and had felt bad about things, but when he started to get better, he ate right and put on weight. It's perfectly normal, and it means you're adapting to a calm life."

The Doctor looked at their stomach, poking it. "So... this is a sign I'm recovering?"

Donna nodded. "Yep! Just like how you look less exhausted. I know the nightmares still come and go, but you've been sleeping better, right?"

"Of course! I've been able to sleep for several hours without a single nightmare waking me up for the past two weeks!" The Doctor stated, waving their hands.

"There you go, this is working. You just being here, not running around, trying to ignore your problems like you had been doing. You've got your friends hanging out with you, you have a job that you actually like, and you still run around, but without having to save the day all the time cause the beautiful Doctor is out there doing it for you."

"Oi! I'm beautiful too!"

"I'm not going to call my pseudo-brother beautiful." Donna made a face and they laughed. "You're starting to enjoy the slow, Doctor. And there's nothing wrong with this." She leaned over and tapped at the softness they had gained. "In fact, it's nice to see you with some meat on your bone."

The Doctor nodded, taking this in. "So, retirement squish is perfectly normal?"

Donna wanted to question the Doctor on their choice of describing this as that, but decided not to. "Yep. Means you're relaxing and doing well."

They perked up a bit. "Oh! Brilliant!"

The Doctor grabbed their coffee mug, taking a long drink. "That's good, cause I was worried and kinda freaking out about it. A lot."

"Please don't tell me you didn't eat dinner because of this..." She winced.

"What?" The Doctor blinked. "Oh! No, no! I actually got myself so worked up with worry that it made me nauseous. Actually, now that I feel better about this, I could do with a nibble. I didn't have my afternoon snack today for that reason too."

"Oi, go make a sandwich or something then!" She shooed the Doctor off the couch as they laughed, getting up and fixing their shirt.

They turned to look at her, smiling. "Thanks, Donna. Sorry about this, I didn't know what to make of it, I'm not... I'm not used to taking it slow. I don't know what to expect, what's a good sign or a bad sign."

She stood up and looked at her best friend, smiling just a bit. "I get it. Trust me, I do. After losing my memories, it was hard to get back on track. After Rose came out, it was an adjustment to knowing if I was doing the right thing or the wrong thing. I'm here to help you along this one, spaceman. Don't ever forget that."

The Doctor grinned and gave her a hug. "Thank you. I'll come to you for things like this, I promise." They pulled back. "You really think it's a good look for me though? The retirement squish?"

"Oh yeah." Donna grinned back. "Also, are you really going to call it that?"

"Of course! That's what it is!" That's one way to call it that.

--

I hope I wrote this right, I have my own issues with weight that I'm working on, but I felt like the Doctor did when I was younger after I had lost a lot of weight due to medical stuff and started gaining it back when I was healing. I hadn't been sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but it is a good thing.

[copperbadge]

[ID: A photograph taken in the dark of the edge of my bed and nightstand; mostly what is visible is the illumination from my little personal cooler fan, which shows Polk the tabby, in shadow, sitting in front of it at the edge of the bed. ]

I have to say, I bought the little Evapolar Chill unit because I found it on an open-box sale and I was willing to risk $60 to see if it would help me keep my bedroom cool while the AC is out. It's a great little unit -- it takes less than ten watts an hour and runs on a USB, so you can run it from a normal electrical outlet with a USB adaptor, from a laptop, or from a sufficiently powerful backup battery. It's light enough to carry around, and each tank of water gets through roughly 4-10 hours depending on how high you've got the fan going.

It does not cool down the room. I think that's a losing proposition. But it does have four intensity settings and on the highest it'll cool about a ten-foot space very well, and on the lowest setting it's still powerful enough to cool a person lying in front of it (me) on the bed, without feeling like it's blowing air in my face. The cold just kind of trickles out, and you can see even Polkadot was enjoying the cool last night. I am sleeping MUCH better since running it on my bedside table, pointed down the bed. (The blue LED is a nice nightlight but also can be turned off.)

It comes with a biodegradable cartridge that needs replacing every 3-6 months of continuous use to the tune of $30, but feels worth it, especially since once my AC comes back in two weeks I'll probably use it mainly for summer stuff -- it'd be great to have at a beach party or a cookout. Or even just for use to cool down while sleeping if I want to keep the AC bill down occasionally.

Anyway it's a great little tool for what it is so do recommend.

[thegodmother007]

My New Neighbor Chapter 10: Housewarming Party

TRIGGER WARNING: This story will eventually contain violence, angst, threat of death, swearing, dark humor, adult themes like sex & drugs, racism, classism, sexism etc. Do not say you have not been warned

Chapter 10:

I had been mulling over whether or not to invite Cain to my Housewarming party for a few days now. Bo was going to be there, as well as my parents and a few friends. I knew it was a part of the contract I signed to live here to give my tiny neighbor a heads up if I have gatherings of 3+ within 48hr of the event. With it being a week away, I had some time to think about it. I want him there, but remembered how he reacted seeing me the first few times, clearly Giants overwhelm him. Would I be putting him in an awkward position inviting him to an event that would realistically only have giants there? Not like I had a ton of Human friends I could invite…that is kind of the whole point of living here..I want to meet Humans & make friends. 

“It is at least worth extending the invite” I decided in my brain. For the next 2min I composed a text to Cain to see if he would be interested in going, but ensuring my text expressed there was no pressure on him to say yes. 

“Hey Cain, this is Vi..but, you know that already. Anyways, I am having a housewarming party this Saturday from 3:00pm-whenever. There will be drinks, snacks, I’ll be ordering pizzas for everyone and I will be bringing some products I got for 50% off from work. We’ll be doing games & whatever else we feel like doing. I am inviting my family and a few of my friends. If you’d like to come, you’re welcomed to swing by, seeing as this is your Unit as well, but there is no pressure to come. If you’re busy or something, don’t worry about it.” Send. 

I felt nervous, knowing damn well my brother & father weren't huge fans of Humans, especially considering how many of them view giants as dangerous & monsters. Both of them are guilty of listening to biased podcasts and radio shows, they just indoctrinate themselves & each other all day, even swapping content in our family group chat. Hell, even just moving into this complex & being a part of this program was an argument between my parents & I. Bo was kind enough to keep most of his opinions to himself, but not all of them. Part of me wanted Cain to say he was busy & not come. The other part wanted him there as a ‘Told you so’ to my family who doubted meaningful relationships can come out of co-inhabitation. I waited for Cain’s response as I peeled myself out of bed and began getting ready for the day. 

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I sat in my car having just gotten all my grocery shopping done when I felt a buzzing in my pocket. After turning the car on & getting the AC going, I looked to see who was texting me. My heart skipped a beat & my stomach dropped a little to see Vi’s contact was the one that texted me. Looking at the message, I see it was an invitation to a party. I didn't respond right away, immediately logging onto my Dave & Cruster’s app to see if I was scheduled that night. I was. Damnit. 

“Sounds good. I'll see you there. Would you mind if I invited a few friends?” I hoped Vi wouldn't take offense to the question. But seeing as her friends and family were going to be there, and so that I wasn't grossly outnumbered, I would at least ask. 

“Sure. How many?” She shot back relatively quickly. “I would say about 3-5 friends give or take.” I could see Vi’s typing bubble slide onto my screen & with a swoosh sound, the message popped up “The more the merrier. But bring Human cups & junk, I don't have that.” That was easy enough, I had plenty of paper plates and cups from the last party I held. “See you then 👍🏽” I shot back, keeping it neutral. 

With my blood pressure rising, I shot a mass email to all the Dave & Cruster's staff members: “@Bartending Team is anyone willing to switch their morning shift with my afternoon shift this Saturday?” Almost immediately Justin, a newer bartender who just turned 21, responded with “Dibs. I wouldn't mind sleeping in 😂” This worked out perfectly. “It’s yours. I’ll be in at 7:00am for the breakfast rush then.” I went into the calendar & switched Justin & my shifts around, reflecting the new schedule & forwarding the conversation with Justin to Management to keep them aware. I was going to a giant party this weekend & started texting my friends to see who’d be interested in coming with me.

*************************************************************************************************************

I stood by the kitchen counter reading Cain’s messages back to me. My heart sank a little to see Cain’s confirmation, but at the same time, I was excited that he felt comfortable enough to accept the invite. The realization hit me then, that I was going to have a gaggle of Humans in my apartment. Including Cain, I was about to have 4-6 Humans in my place & looking around, it didn’t seem very accessible to the human guests I was about to have in my home. I was going to need to do something about that.

Saturday - 2:45pm

The ladders for the Humans were in place in case they wanted to climb up to the coffee table. On the coffee table, were smaller seating areas and tables I bought from a giant doll enthusiast on Eepsy. Replicas of Human anything were always cheaper than getting the real thing, a deal I couldn’t pass up. I felt pretty proud of myself, seeing as I did everything I could to prepare for the smaller guests coming. As I put the finishing touches on the coffee table, I hear a buzzing at the door. I jumped from my crouched position and went to my speaker “Yes?” I inquired, wondering which one of my guests got here first. “Hillevia, it’s your favorite brother and I come with mead, let me in!” I smile, taking the opportunity to annoy my brother since those don’t come around all that much anymore. “What’s the password?” I asked indignantly. I tune in to hear my brother scoffing and groaning “I don’t know…uh Bo is the greatest of all time?” He suggests but I bellow “Yea, because THAT’S a password I would pick. Try again.” I insist and I can feel him rolling his eyes. “I don’t know! What about ‘unicorns are Vi’s favorite’?” I laughed and shook my head “Not even close!” I knew that Bo knew exactly what I wanted to hear. I waited and he paused, his will to hold out fading away along with the strength in his arms holding the bottles of mead he brought. “I’m waiting…” I say over the speaker only to hear Bo get quiet “Fine. Vi’s the best…” I took satisfaction in my brother’s hilarious suffering, but was not going to allow him to get away with only ½ of the password. “Aaanndd?” I asked with a raised brow. “...And she is smarter than me in every way. Vi just open the damn door, my arms are tired and I drove an hour to get here!” Finally getting what I wanted, I buzzed him in. 

“Baby sister!” Bo says as he places his mead bottles & drink cases on the kitchen counter. I am soon embraced with a spine crushing hug as I breathlessly ask mercy. I was dropped from where Bo had me in a suspended hug and catch my breath “Good to see you too, Bo.” I slap his shoulder and crack my spine back into place. I watch Bo walk around and seemingly inspect the apartment “Not bad, this is a nice unit you’ve got here. Where’s your human?” He asks looking around on the floor for him, as though I just keep Cain in my place. “Uh, he’s not here yet? You’re early.” I remind and Bo shrugs “I was hoping to say “Hi” to the little guy, maybe hold & play with him a bit.” I cringed at Bo’s choice of language, feeling the familiarity of the diminishment of humans I was often exposed to growing up. “He is not a pet, Bo. I haven’t even held him yet. And don’t you go using that kind of language around him & the other Humans he is bringing with him. I don’t want them thinking I am related to an Ethocentrist…” I warned with an icy tone. My brother, as unserious as ever, waves me off “Don’t you worry kid, I know how to behave. We have a few of them working at our construction site. Of course, they are more suited to be dispatchers, inventory managers & financial analysts..you know, the cushy jobs.” I felt my face growing a bit hot as I became more annoyed. “All jobs have their own challenges, don’t act like your job is more important, Bo.” I say as I begin to pour some chips into bowls and set out plates. 

“Whaaat? I didn't say anything that wasn’t the truth. Humans are better at being in their comfy little offices doing the light & easy work. I & my team are out there making a difference in the world, building homes and businesses, breaking ground on untamable land that was otherwise left alone by the humans because it was ‘too hard’” he says in a baby voice at the last part. 

I turn and shoot him a look “Don’t start that shit, Bjorn. I have Humans coming over as well and I don’t need you scaring them off or getting Dad all worked up. If you don’t follow my rules, I will kick both you & dad out. This is my housewarming party & my home. You will respect my human & treat him as an equal. I will even call dad right now to tell him the same thing-” Before I could do that, Bo interrupts my dialing “Dad isn’t coming. Mom caught the cold that dad is still getting over & asked me to tell you. They didn’t want to get anyone sick so they had me bring you your favorite seltzers on their behalf as a housewarming gift.” A rush of relief flowed over me, followed closely by disappointment. I look more closely to the seltzers he brough & they were in fact, my favorite. “Alright then, I’ll just text them later after the party. But don’t forget what I said Bjorn Berg, I am serious.” With palms up in the air in a surrender pose, Bo smirks “Okay okay, no need to go breaking out the full name now. I’ll behave myself….Hillevia Berg.” 

It wasn’t long until my friends showed up to the party, each one bringing something to share or to drink with the rest of us. As they poured in, I realized Bo invited more of his friends than I did. But a party was a party & I was not about to be picky over who joined us. I laid out the cannabis products I got from work, instructing those who wish to partake, to take it outside to smoke, forbidding them to smoke it inside. I kept looking at the door to Cain’s unit, waiting for him & his friends to show up, hoping that I wasn’t making a fool of myself with having a human set up & no humans to use it. 

*************************************************************************************************************

Just in time was I able to clean up from this morning’s shift at Dave & Cruster’s & rush home to shower. My friends started showing up to my place at 4:00pm, each one with food & drinks in hand. On such short notice, only 2 of my friends could make it: Brenden and Foster, both who I have roomed with before & who still room with each other now. I gave them both the run-down of what was happening tonight, but felt it was necessary to re-cap everything before we buzz in. 

“Remember, giants don’t like their intelligence challenged & we are guests in Vi’s unit, so try to be nice to her.” I realized how pathetic I sounded just then, looking at Foster who places a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll behave, we are just excited to go to our first giant party & to see what it is like. We don’t plan on getting too wild.” I stepped back, knowing these two goons like the back of my hand “And don’t you go telling Vi anything about what I told you before when she walked out in the towel. That is bro-code, don’t go breaking it.” Brenden laughs and grabs the small cooler of mix & match drinks he brought “Can we just go? The party started an hour ago & I am starving, I was told there would be giant pizza!” He joked as I walked to the buzzer, holding my own tray of pigs in a blanket I took from Dave & Crusters. I press the button, hearing the chatter behind the wall dull down a bit with the echo of my buzzer catching the attention of the room. My door buzzes in return and with a shaky breath, I open the door for Brenden & Foster to walk through, both of them with full hands and distracted by their excitement. A few seconds after walking in, both have stopped in front of the door, looking towards the ceiling, silently staring. I follow them both, looking past them to see a group of about a dozen giants staring at us three, none of them looking familiar. They were huge & imposing. Some stood closer to my door than I would have liked, but many of them offered smiles to our little troop as we entered. It was only a few seconds of staring until Vi squeezed past the group, angrily whispering to her friends to “Stop staring!” and offer me a smile, coming down on one knee to be closer to our level. 

Both Brenden and Foster took a tentative step back as Vi’s knee crashed into the floor, sending reverberations up our bodies. I felt that rush of adrenaline I have become familiar with when I am around Vi. Now, it was magnified 100X because of all her friends watching us now. “Glad you made it!” Vi says to me & the boys. I place my hands on the backs of both of my friends and push them forward “Thank you for inviting us!” I call up to her. Brenden and Foster are both a bit pale, Foster is quieter than I have heard him in years. “Where can we put our cooler and food?” I asked, looking on the floor of the apartment to see no Human accommodations. I watch Vi motion to the ladder she installed on the side of her coffee table “I can take your things up to the coffee table area while you climb up. I have seating & tables up here for you, away from footsteps.” It seems Vi really made an effort in planning this out for her Humans guests. “Will there be more of you joining?” Vi asked and I shook my head “Unfortunately, no. All my other friends work at Dave & Crusters tonight. But I am sure you’ll eventually meet Brittany & Huan.” I assure, feeling a sense of confidence that faking-it-till-you-make-it will give you if you believe it enough. With a slow hand, Vi reaches out for Brenden’s cooler and Foster’s bag of chips that he brought. I was able to hand Vi my tray of pigs in a blanket without much hesitation, my main concern being that she might drop them. With hardly any effort at all, Vi places our items on the top of the coffee table, turning to watch us climb the ladder. 

I feel all eyes on us as we slowly make our ways to the ladder to climb up. None of the other giants have greeted us yet, but I didn’t take offense to it right away, I figured this would take some time, all things considered. The music continued to play in the background & a few of the giants continued their conversations, resuming the party as it once was. I let Brenden and Foster go up first, Vi carefully watching them both as they hike themselves to the top of the ladder after a few moments of climbing. Now that it was my turn, Vi looks to me and asks “Would you like any help getting up there?” offering me her hand, pushing it forward slightly while hovering the floor. I was stunned at the question, not quite understanding why she was asking me, when I was as capable as Brenden & Foster of getting up there on my own. “Uh, I am okay? I got it.” I said gripping the handhelds of the ladder, scrambling up quickly to show Vi how physically capable I can be. I easily beat the climb time of both Brenden & Foster, careful to hide any heavy breathing I might have had reaching the top. 

*************************************************************************************************************

I felt another wave of disappointment when Cain rejected my help getting onto the coffee table. “Not a good time to ask” I reprimanded myself internally. Holding someone for the first time is not something most would do casually. I stood up to my full stature once I saw Cain was on top of the coffee table. “See how fast I climbed that thing?” He calls up to me “I didn’t even need your help!” He laughs and I laugh along with him. This was a pride thing, I could tell by the cocky way he planted his hands on his hips, victoriously. I lean down, hands on my knees “I see that!. Tell me, are you guys hungry? The pizza just got here, can I cut you a slice?” Just then, Cain’s little friend Brenden scurries forward towards Cain & I where he stands on the edge of the coffee table “Can we have pepperoni!?” He asks me much like a child would. “Yea! Whichever one you guys want, I would be happy to-” I was cut off by Brenden fist pumping the air “I have always wanted to try giant pizza!” I laugh at his misplaced enthusiasm. “It’s just like regular pizza, Brenden. No difference in taste.” I assure but he shakes his head “Yes but it’s all you can eat..for us, I mean.” He says sheepishly and I laughed again “Good point. Let me grab you guys a slice, okay?” I already liked his friend Brenden, he seemed eager to socialize with me & hopefully the other party guests. 

I carefully picked a piece that had plenty of pepperoni, so they could have the full experience of ‘giant pizza.’ Getting side tracked a few minutes here & there grabbing drinks for people and taking a hit or two off some more generous guest’s pens, I return with a slice for them to share. Much to my surprise, my brother’s friend Myra was on the couch, talking to Cain & his friends. Myra was very social, she could (and will) talk to anyone given the chance. Brenden seemed to be the focus of her attention at the moment, Foster & Cain having taken seats next to each other among the set of chairs I had laid out. Cain’s face, from where I could tell, lit up seeing the pizza as I approached. “Your pizza, gentlemen?” I say in an all-too-cheesy French accent. Brenden, having the attention span of a hamster, stopped the conversation with Myra and turned towards the enormous slice of pizza they saw I was giving them. “This is all for us?” Brenden asked with vigor. “Yes, this is for all 3 of you. Enjoy & let me know if you need anything else.” I get up to turn away when I hear Cain shout to me “Wait!” I turn to see him half out of his seat, pausing when we made eye contact. “Are you going to eat with us?” He asked me and I shook my head ‘no’. “I got invited out to the balcony to smoke, actually. I was going to do that.” I explained, just to see Cain’s face fall before he quickly righted himself and nodded. I watched him turn to the pizza and, like anyone would try, take a bite from the huge pizza. Brenden wastes no time chowing down & Foster seems to be picking pieces off the pizza in a more polite way. I laughed and turned to the balcony where I am handed a joint someone rolled prior to the party. 

*************************************************************************************************************

I watched Vi turn away and disappear into the group, feeling shot down. I figured there was no use dwelling & ignoring the pizza wouldn't help, it would get cold soon. I start going for it along with Brenden but find that Foster’s method of eating was way less embarrassing. “So..” a charming voice rings out from above us on the coffee table. I look to see Myra, the giantess who introduced herself to us after Vi walked away to get our pizza. “You boys like party games?” She asks the lot of us. Brenden with full cheeks asks “What kind of games?” Myra’s toothy smile gave me a dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach. 

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I was chilling on the balcony, smoking a joint my friend Erika brought, talking about anything & everything. “So the blonde human is your Unit Partner then?” Erika asks “Yea, that's him.” I confirm, taking a drag of joint. “The same one who insisted you were stupid?” I scoffed “Yea. But he apologized. He brought me a whole pizza, actually.” I say with a smirk. Erika questions “A human sized pizza?” She asks with a giggle. “Yea, but it was the thought that counted.” I assure and she sits back against her chair “Yea, that's true. At least he was sorry. Not all humans are right away.” I interject “Neither are Giants..” and Erika raises the joint in the air “I hear that!” She laughs, taking a hit herself. “How is he otherwise?” She asks, obviously curious about having a human roommate. “He's awkward & gets shy pretty easily.” Erika nods with a shrug “I can see why..”

That response puzzled me “Why?” I asked, sitting back up & looking at Erika. Erika looks back at me & gives me an up and down. “Babe, you're 85ft when the average woman is like, 60-65ft tall and don't take this the wrong way, but you have RFB real bad. You are also not very petite, you look like you could snap someone in half & give a chance you probably would. I’m sorry but not a lot about you screams ‘approachable’ you know?” I sat there shocked because I disagree completely. “I am totally approachable!” I argue and Erika rolls her eyes “To any giant, you're a fairly normal woman, they aren't worried about approaching you as much & once they get to know you, they can see you're a huge softie. But they have to approach you first. Can you blame Humans for not approaching you?” 

I sat with that & pondered it a while. In my concentration, I felt a buzzing in my pocket. Before I had a chance to pull my phone out, another friend, Tyla, pops her heart out of the door “Tequila shots for whoever is interested!” She calls out to those on the patio. I wasn't a drinker, so I opted out & checked my phone instead. I felt my stomach drop to my feet looking at my notifications screen. ‘4 missed calls from Cain’ ‘7 missed texts from Cain’ ‘2 voicemails from contact: Cain'. Quickly opening my phone, I read the texts: 

5:58pm: “Where r u?”

6:17pm: “ur friend Myra is getting 2 close for comfort & I don't like how these people r looking at me. can u please come in here?”

Missed call

6:31pm: “dude Myra is being super pushy & a few others are asking me n the boys if we wanna do beer pong. I think you need to come here NOW.” 

Missed call

6:37pm: “VI HELP PLEASE!!!!” 

Missed call

6:56pm: “Vi I feel vry unsafe. 1 of ur friends pushed me into a beer cup he lost in beer pong & drank from it w me in it. I'm drunk AF & I'm fuckin soaked & freezing rn. They're talking about human flavor or smthin making alcohol taste better an laughing but this isn't fuckin funny. I need help PLEASE. Foster was taken somewhere idk & Brenden is being used as a salt lick. This isn't funl, plz help…” 

Missed call

7:03pm: Vi pick up the goddamn phone NOW PLEASE!!! I might need to call the police if ur not in here in the next few min. I'm on the verge of panicking. FFS I NEED YOU TO GET IN HERE!!!! THEY ARE GETTING SALT OUT FOR TEQUILA SHOTS. SOS HELP!!”

7:04pm: “they gunna ajjlopkl” 

That last text from Cain made no sense but it didn't need to. I shot out of my chair, much to Erika's surprise & opened the sliding glass door of my balcony with so much force it fell off its track, but I didn't care. I needed to find Cain. “Cain?!” I shouted over the music which got considerably louder since I've been in here. Not only that, but I see more people have shown up since I have been on the balcony, cramming my apartment over its capacity. It was like pushing your way through a can of sardines. As I push my way past people, I look to the oven clock to see I've been outside longer than an hour. I look around the room frantically searching for the three boys. Almost immediately I spot Foster on the countertop, talking to one of the giantesses here, seemingly okay & unscathed. Looking around the room, I spot Brenden who is looking like he is rejecting something being asked of him. A giant, with buzzed brunette hair grabs him in a loose fist, bringing him towards a cup of beer. I could hear Brenden asking to be put down, pushing on the fingers of the giant who held him. I make a beeline for them, getting in the face of the giant who I recognized as one of my brother’s idiot friends. “And what the fuck are you doing?! Absolutely not, give him to me, now!” I shout over the music, holding my hands out. Gregg, my brother's idiot friend snorts “Awe what? Little dude is a party animal! He’s fine Vi, we were doing karaoke earlier & we’re playing ‘Truth or Dare’. He refused the dare so it's his turn to drink!” He begins to bring the cup back up to Brenden’s face, who pushes against the rim of the glass, forcing it away from him as his face turns green from how much drinking he was doing in such a short time. 

Gregg notices this and quickly shoves Brenden into my hands “Oh man, he's about to blow, you can take em’ now!” He insists as he hastily returns to the game the others were playing. After a moment of watching Gregg walk away, Brenden does in fact, throw up in my hands; his little body trembling as he sits on all fours and catches his breath between heaves. His hands grip the skin of my palm as he throws up a second time, I feel his nails digging into the thick flesh of my palm. I didn't say anything or chastise him for it, though. “Get it all out Brenden. Are you okay?” I ask him. All I got in return was a silent head shaking ‘no’ as he remained on all fours, still looking downward. I look around to see Foster still on the countertop with a giantess I recognized as one of my old classmates, Aubrey. I walk over to them both, lowering Brenden to Foster’s level.  Foster takes one good look at Brenden & is disgusted to see what a complete mess he was. “Foster, please, I need you to take him. I gotta find Cain.” I tilt my hands downward for Brenden to slide off. Aubrey starts cooing as Foster helped Brenden off my hand “Oh you poor thing. Let me get you some water..” she gets up, tending to Brenden along with Foster. I quickly go to wash my hands of the throw up Brenden so graciously left in my palm before looking for Cain. 

Drying my hands on my shirt, I look around the party to see if I can spot him. I push my way past the others to the coffee table where I see Cain’s phone was left on the table. “Shit.” Was all I could say as the dots connected for me in that moment. I turn, shouting “Cain?!” I slowly scan the party & look to my small dining room table where, for a fraction of a second, I spot my salt shaker. Remembering what Cain’s texts said, I shoulder my way through the crowd & towards the table, shoving aside these strangers I didn’t know. My face paled at the sight of Cain being suspended in air, held by his wrists and ankles by Myra, stretched out & shirtless. He was glistening wet as he writhed in her hands. Another Giant sprinkles salt on Cain’s exposed torso as he yells for them to let him go. Myra seductively licks Cain’s body, wrapping her tongue around his ribs, even going as far as to put her whole mouth around his waist and suck. I felt my nerves light on fire as I yell “HEY!” The loudest I’d yelled in a long time. 

The people around me, Myra included, look at me who stands there with fists balled. She takes her mouth off Cain, where I can see the light indents of bite marks on his body. No blood, but I could see Cain looking at me with pleading eyes. I push the women who are separating me from Myra, aside, as I march over to her. “That is my Human. Give him to me NOW.” I instructed but Myra laughed “Lighten up Vi, it's a party, he’s fine! He's our salt lick. Speaking of which..” Myra continues holding Cain, except this time, uses the hand that she was holding his ankles with, to grab a shot of tequila and shoot it. I place my hand under Cain’s body to take the pressure off being dangled from his arms. To my relief, Myra drops him into my hand where he crumples like wet paper. She gives a quick “Woohoo!” As her posse cheers her on & hands her a lime. 

I was infuriated but had more pressing matters to attend to. I turn away from Myra and hold Cain up to my eyes, looking him over carefully. He sits on his knees, hunched over and protecting his head. He shakes uncontrollably & I can hear him crying in between hyperventilation. My soul breaks in two at the sight of Cain. In this moment he was so small, so fragile and vulnerable. He put up a good front all this time because this was a completely different Cain than the one I've come to know. He weighed practically nothing sitting in my palm, yet his presence weighed heavily on my heart looking at him, cowering. I gingerly walk towards the countertop, carful not to jostle Cain, where Aubrey is helping gently clean Brenden. He has more color to his cheeks now since I've seen him last, which was a great sign. “One more” I say as I tilt Cain into Abrey’s awaiting hand that laid on the countertop, giving Cain more solid ground. I watch him tentatively as Foster helps Cain up, his eyes casted downward as he stumbles off Aubrey’s palm. 

I turn away from the countertop and walk back towards Myra. Of who, is looking for her salt lick that I took away. “Hey, why's you take my drinking buddy away?” She asks with a haphazard tone, not quite understanding the gravity of the situation. “You all need to leave.” I said coldly and curly. Myra folds her arms and twists her face and confusion “What? Why? Because we were having fun with your human?” I get chest to chest with Myra, standing a whole head and a half taller than her “Because if you don't leave in the next 30 seconds, we're going to have a fucking problem.” A few more people gather around, listening to the confrontation, some of them upset with me for trying to end the party & others trying to intervene in the confrontation. 

Myra, with liquid courage flowing through her veins, pushes me back with everything she had, causing me to stumble a few steps. “You can get the fuck out of my face, kid. Bo invited us, so if you have a problem, take it up with him.” It was at that statement I started seeing nothing but red. Without thinking, I stand back up and grab Myra's throat, lifting her a good couple feet off the ground. Her hands and her perfectly manicured nails start scraching at my grip around her throat, choking for a breath, legs kicking for any ground at all. A few of her friends yell in shock, urging me to put her down. 

It was at that point that I felt a strong hand on my shoulder “Aye aye aye! What's all the commotion, what's the problem here?” I tossed Myra away from me, into her group of friends who were cheering her on earlier, catch her with their bodies.  My brother turns me to face him, wondering why I was assaulting his friend. “You can get out too” I say starkly to my brother before he can get a word in edgewise. He looks confused, unsure of what happened. “Did I miss something?” He asks dumbfounded. 

“Yeah, you and your dumbass friends have treated my guests like second class citizens, like TOYS! Your friend over here? She was using my buddy as a salt lick and he wanted no part of it. He was begging her to stop, but she didn't. You are lucky, if you weren't standing here right now, I would have beaten the shit out of her. So instead, I’m shutting the party down. You & all your friends can get the hell out.” Bo backs up a bit and tries to deescalate the situation. “Ladies, can't we just let water stay under the bridge? Any guy who's well…a guy…would love to be Myra’s salt lick. C’mon, that's every guys fantasy right there, isn't it? Sucked on by a giant woman? I would have traded places with him in a minute!” He tries to joke his way out of this but I was done. “GET THE HELL OUT OF MY APARTMENT BJORN & ALL YOUR FRIENDS TOO!” I shout, pushing Bo away from me. 

The party came to a halt as someone stopped the music, a deafening silence falling over the party, all eyes on the argument ensuing.  I look around to see everyone standing still & staring. “PARTY IS OVER, GET OUT!!” I scream punching a hole in my wall in pure anger, which seemed to get a reaction from the crowd. People start grabbing their jackets, shoes they left & people they picked up. 

After only a few minutes, my apartment was empty, say for Aubrey, Erika & Bjorn. Bo walks away from me, grabbing his alcohol from the countertop. “This was supposed to be a party Vi. If they can’t handle being at a Giant’s party, maybe they shouldn't come.” He says as he proudly exits out the front door. I slam it behind him, with punctuating force.

Once the wall stopped shaking, I turn to see Erika & Aubrey are tending to Cain & Brenden. Erika has covered Cain in a bandana she had on her, and he uses it as a blanket. I walk up to Cain & his friends, swiping the drywall from my knuckles. Foster & Brennen, both who are talking to Cain & rubbing his back, look up at me. I feel a deep seeded embarrassment within me sprouting at the sight of their gazes. I could do nothing to change what happened & could do nothing else but apologize. I lower myself to be closer to their eye levels. “I am so..so sorry you guys. My brother invited all of his friends without me knowing. I wouldn't have invited you if I knew he planned on inviting more than just a couple friends. Are any of you hurt?” 

Brenden looks at Foster, who gives him a tentative look, one that didn't give me much comfort. “We’re both fine. Brenden is going to be hungover as fuck tomorrow, but he’s already drank two Liquid IV’s, so we’ll see. Cain on the other hand…” Foster lifts up the bandana to expose Cain’s bruises. On his arms & torso, he is covered in bruises & hickies. Although nothing broken, he was clearly hurt. “Cain, oh my Gods..” I reach for him instinctivly, but at the sight of my hand, he flinches & recoils in on himself. I felt a tear prick at my eye, but I was still far too angry to let it fall. 

“Cain?” I ask softly. “I am so sorry about what happened. Are you going to be okay?” Cain’s hands move the bandana covering his face, away “I jusst need to go home...Iiiii- don't feel ssso good. They gave me a looot to drink & my head really hurtsss” he says in a weak & slurred voice. I worried he had a possible concussion & alcohol poisoning. Aubrey & Erika both look concerned, looking at me. “Someone needs to stay with him” Aubrey says, looking to the boys in the countertop. Both look stressed “Uh. We both have work in the morning, we were going to leave at 8pm..” they say sheepishly. I felt a compelling to volunteer. “I’ll stay with him. Or, rather, he'll stay with me. I'll have him sleep here tonight to keep an eye on him. I took off for tomorrow, I can handle it.” Foster looks to Brenden “Should we really leave him with a Giant right now?” As soon as he said it, he looks to the giantesses that surround him with a “No offense” to punctuate what he was trying to say. Brenden nodded “I have maximum attendance points at work right now & you just started your job. Let her do it. Neither of us can afford to lose a job right now.” 

Cain rolls over, attempting to stand while engaging in the conversation happening on his behalf “No I can ssssleep this off, I'll be ooooh-kay.” As he stands, he immediately falls into Foster who anticipated catching him. “This is the drunkest I've seen him in a while. Take good care of him, okay?” Foster asks me. “Of course..” I respond as Foster supports Cain’s weight upright. I gently position my cupped hand behind Cain, Foster laying him in my palm slowly. Cain's head was clearly spinning as I lifted him off the countertop. 

Cain was having a difficult time keeping his eyes open at all as I brought him closer to me. I felt his breathing had slowed down a bit & he was broken out in cold sweats. I grab the bandana & lay it over Cain, who grips it & pulls it towards him. I look to Brenden & Foster “Thank you guys for coming. I'm sorry how it ended up.” Brenden nods and Foster scoffs “I had a great time” he says winking at Aubrey who giggles a little as she stands, offering her hand to both of the boys. I didn't have the energy to ask about that right now.  As I turned towards the hallway that led to my bedroom, I see Brenden & Foster, both safely in Aubrey’s hand, leave with her & Erika. “I'll text you tomorrow” I assure my friends as they waived goodbye. 

I look to Cain who had, without me noticing, thrown up in my hand and on himself. I sigh. “This is going to be a long night..” I say to myself as I walk to the bathroom to clean him up. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: An extra long story for ya'll this week! Thank you for the continued support of my story. I apologize that I have not been able to get these chapters out as much as I would like. I have decided that I will be putting chapters out as I am able, not going to force myself to try & get them out every single Friday, as with a full time job, hobbies, friends & family, I find I am often busy. Thank you for understanding :)

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[atinylittlepain]

Chapter One

90s!steve harrington x f!oc

series masterlist

series playlist

He got out, hopped one state over, and planned on continuing an anonymous existence of cold beds and numbers scribbled on forearms. One small problem in that plan, or maybe one big problem.

warnings | 18+ smut, angst, columbus OH deserves a TW in and of itself (i love it so)

a/n | I am so excited to be sharing the first chapter of this series. A very special thanks must be given to @pr0ximamidnight who lets me scream about these characters all the time, and who also made the absolutely amazing artwork for this fic! As always, I'd love to hear what you think of this one, drop me a line :)

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“You coming tonight?”

“Who’s playing?”

“Up and coming, you haven’t heard of them.” 

“Oh, so they’re shit then?” 

“Don’t be a snob, Steven. Even your beloved Elliott Smith started out as a nobody. Hell, he still is a nobody.”

“You told Art that I’d cover the front tonight, didn’t you?” The silence is enough of an answer. Steve sighs.

“Eddie.” 

“Come on, Steve. Money is money, I don’t see why you’re complaining when I was gracious enough to get you a little more of it.” His so very gracious roommate is already halfway out the door, a grin and shrug that tells Steve there will be no squirming out of this. Great. 

It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy a trip to the Newport Club, especially not when it’s free and all he has to do is check tickets and let girls feel him up a little on the way into the music hall. But it’s  Wednesday, and he has work tomorrow, and he’s feeling a little more pitiful than usual since their AC unit busted out and has yet to be fixed. Their landlord told them he would be getting to it about two weeks ago, and Steve is starting to wilt around the edges in the close grip of the heat and humidity. So no, he’s not really feeling a gig at the moment. But yes, money is money, and he doesn’t have much time to whine to himself about it when he’s already running late to his shift at Katzinger’s. 

Columbus has been good to him, something he is reminded of every morning when he bikes across town to get to the deli. Urban enough to be anonymous, but still cheap enough for him to pay rent with the patchwork jobs he does. And not Hawkins, so it’s already miles ahead just because of that. 

“I got lox no schmear for Tiffany. There you go, sweetheart, have a nice day.” Tiffany left her phone number at the bottom of her receipt for him, a little heart too. Yet another way Columbus has treated him well, the bevy of OSU students that seem to like what Steve has going on. Eddie calls it his “soft-prozac look,” whatever the hell that means. Certainly different from his polo shirts and varsity jacket days, but a whole lot else has changed since then.

Things are easy, simple, and he likes it that way. Making sandwiches and smiling at coeds until three, a new Tiffany every week, no strings, no stress. And the music scene at the fringes of campus. While his roommate prefers a sound with a little more edge, Steve prefers the softer, sadder stuff, and there’s plenty of it getting passed around on burned CDs and in the dim, dank bars downtown. That’s how he first started picking up gigs at the Newport Club. Art took one look at him, the remnant strength from the days of the king, and stuck him out front with a scowl and a folded wad of cash. Not to mention the perk that once the crowd is packed in, he gets to lean in the doorway and turn his good ear to the music.

…

She’s running late. Actually, she was running late twenty minutes ago. Now it’s just laughable. And somewhere in the slow slump of afternoon into evening, it has started raining. So there’s that, the hem of her skirt sticking and sweating around her ankles, skin turned tacky in the humid air. But she’s a little too focused on digging her ticket out of the bottom of her bag as she does a sort of jump-walk toward the club.

Who was it again? A friend of a friend’s boyfriend who had an extra ticket to this new band’s gig. She can’t even remember the name. Probably something precious and pretentious like toaster aneurysm. 

Shit, not good, not even the remnants of a crowd still waiting outside the venue, just some guy with his arms folded over his chest, leaning in the doorway with one doc marten crossed over the other. His eyebrow cocks, a crack of his gum rolled with his jaw when she approaches. She can hear the dull thrum of a bass coming from inside, already started.

“Hi, I’m here for the show, here’s my–”

“The show started fifteen minutes ago, sweetheart.” It’s a little stunning, not snappy, but entirely bored in the way he says it, sighing and slumping back against the wall, a flick of his chin to toss his thick flop of hair out of his eyes. 

“Okay, so? Just take my ticket and let me in.” Not in the mood, not that she ever is, for this bullshit tough guy act. Said tough guy squints at her, tongue poking in his cheek like really, this is a grave inconvenience to him, when he could have already taken her ticket and let her in and gotten back to his brooding hunch. 

“What’s your name?”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“I’m Steve.”

“Good for you, Steve.” Great, he thought that was funny, a huff of a laugh and half a smile, perfect teeth and frustratingly perfect dimple. She was going for bitchy, actually. When he finally uncrosses his arms from over his chest, hooking his knuckles into the pockets of his pants, she gets a better look at his t-shirt. He must have shrunk it in the wash, or maybe it’s intentional, the way it fits so snug that the muscles in his arms bulge over the sleeves, the I heart metal  logo stretched to burst across his chest. Elliott Smith fan, so at least he’s got that going for him. 

“Are you really not gonna let me in?” 

“Are you really not gonna tell me your name?”

“It’s Ruth, okay?

“That’s an old-fashioned name.”

“So is Steve.” By now, the band has already gotten through two more songs since she got here, and she’s starting to think she’s going to have to resign herself to listening to scraps through the propped open door. For his part, Steve seems perfectly content with the situation, his chin tilted toward the sound as he pulls a menthol out of his back pocket and lights it up. For her part, Ruth is just annoyed enough to reach out and swipe the cigarette from his fingers before it makes it to his mouth, taking a smug inhale as he lets out a petulant whine of hey.

“If you’re gonna keep me out here, the least you can do is offer some refreshments.” To be fair, the more she hears of the music dripping out from the club, the less interested she is in joining the crowd, some kind of post-punk shoegaze dirge-fest from the sound of it. And no, it definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the long line of his throat when he lets smoke seep out in a hiss, head tilted back to keep his exhale from washing over her face. No, nothing to do with that, and nothing to do with the way the tendons in his forearms jump, all spilled shadow when he offers her back the cigarette. No, definitely nothing to do with that either. 

“Are you a student?” 

“No, are you?”

“No, so what do you do then?”

“I work at the library.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Hmm. What about you?”

“I work at Katz, you know? Over in german village?”

“Yeah, everyone knows Katz. I like Brown Bag better though, they’ve got that tofu cream cheese.”

“Who the hell likes tofu cream cheese? Are you vegan or something?” Rapid fire, somewhere in the volley she has mirrored his posture, her shoulder brushing against his as she rests back against the wall, fingers flickering back and forth, trying to sip down the last few drags of their shared cigarette. 

“No, I just like the taste better. Regular cream cheese gives me the heebies.” He hums, the dip and bob of his throat catching the warm shock of the streetlights. She lets herself watch him for a beat, the quick flit of her eyes away from his when he looks right back at her. Back and forth like that, she collects up every freckle she can find, the two on the side of his neck, on his cheek. Pretty boy at rest. The music is mere afterthought.

…

He’s glad he decided to be difficult tonight. The truth is, he really isn’t supposed to let people in after the set starts, something about code violations and fire hazards. But usually, he’ll nod along a few stragglers hurrying into the club, no big deal. Chalk it up to the heat, to no AC, to whatever, Steve was not feeling so generous tonight, and he’s never been so grateful for his snappy streak as he is right now.

“What size shoe did you say you are?” He’s not entirely sure how things unraveled to this. Him, with his shoeless, socked foot hovering just above the sidewalk, and her, holding her sneaker in one hand, with his doc marten on her foot, giving a few experimental shuffles in it, the hem of her skirt swirling around her shins with it. 

“Men’s twelve, probably too big for you, honey.” Her nose scrunches, mouth screwing to the side like she can’t possibly stand being called that. He tucks that away in his mind through the constant din of the concert going on inside.

“Hmm, I think I could make it work if I doubled up my socks.” 

“You gonna steal my shoes, is that your angle?”

“Well, I do need a refund for my ticket since someone wouldn’t let me in.” He scoffs, dipping his chin to hide behind his hair, just a little, buying time to think of something clever to say back to her. 

“Judging by that noise, I think I did you a favor actually.” Ruth grins, and as if on cue, a particularly discordant warble of guitar whines through the door, both of them wincing at it.

“Maybe you’re right. How much longer you think they got?” She wobbles to the side as she toes out of his boot, and Steve moves before he can think, one hand to her waist, one cupping her elbow. Up close like this, he can see the way her eyeliner has smudged at the edges, a stray speck of it on the arc of her cheek. But it’s catch and release, a laugh light in her chest as she pulls away to put her own shoe back on. 

“I’d say they’re wrapping up. We could, you know, get out of here if you wanted to.” Fun, right? That’s what this is. The flirt and flair of it, a game they both seem to be intent on. 

“Where are we going, Steve?” She tilts her head, sing-songing his name.

Steve is good at this, the logistics of it all. Hers or his. His, they decide, because hers is further away. And mercy, Eddie has been shacking up with the produce stocker from the natural grocery store over in Bexley, so they don’t have to worry about being quiet when they stumble through the door to his apartment. 

Graceless, groaning into her mouth when his hip hits the corner of the kitchen counter, and then a different noise entirely skittering up the back of his throat when Ruth’s palm finds the hurt and rubs it out with quick heat up under the hem of his t-shirt.

Here’s the thing, most of the time, he prefers to keep his shirt on. It’s not that anyone has been rude or repulsed by the scars that splay over his skin. Something much worse. A pitying thing, a pitiful thing. The drop of their brow and a pulled frown and oh my gosh, what happened to you? Yeah, he’d prefer to keep his shirt on most of the time. But right now, he wants a little more. A little more sense, a little more touch, a little more of her palms on bare skin. So it’s more feel than thought when he tugs his shirt off over his head, shivering down with it when she noses down his neck to drop her lips to the top of his shoulder. Bruise-colored kisses, he doesn’t resist the urge to thumb away the smear of her dark lipstick in the corner of her mouth. She chases after his touch, a kiss to the pad of his thumb before her grin turns sharp with the nick of her teeth. 

…

Pretty boy is pretty all over. Freckles all over, she maps them with her mouth, a slow sneak down his stomach to the waist band of his briefs. And he’s got a bedframe too, bonus. Yeah, pretty all over, flushed-pink tip when she slides his briefs down his thighs, just enough for the thick weight of him to smear pearling pleasure over the coarse hair trailing down his clenched stomach. She’s no better though, thighs clenching together in useless friction where she’s kneeling between his legs, cotton underwear that used to say Wednesday on the front and a bra that’s just as old. She really hadn’t been expecting something like this, though Steve doesn’t seem to mind, lips parted in a ghost of a swollen smile, eyes hazy with want.

“Can I?”

“You can do whatever you want, honey, fuck.” She has to temper her grin when she takes him into her mouth, pleasant pain and pressure in the hinge of her jaw because Steve certainly has something to brag about. Impossible to take all of him, she settles for laving her tongue over the vein running the underside of his cock, spit-slick palm curling around the rest. Pretty boy pretty all over making pretty sounds too. Huffs of breath that turn into groans when she swallows around him, muscle jumping under her palm that’s pressed over his stomach, her nails grazing in an implicit command. Take what you are given, pretty boy. And he does, perfectly, preening under her touch, little pants of fuck, s’good, really good that shiver straight down her spine and into her pelvis. She only realizes that her hand that isn’t working the base of him has dipped down into her panties when Steve lets out a ragged shit, that’s hot, lashes dropped down to his cheeks with the way he’s staring at her. And then it’s all quiet c’mere, c’mere, honey, insistent hand at her jaw coaxing her up, clashing teeth when they both misjudge the first kiss, and then a sigh when they get the second one right.

“You have condoms, right?” 

“Yeah, I got it, just let me–” She doesn’t exactly make it easy, mouthing at his neck as he leans over to rifle through his nightstand, jostling her in his lap with a frustrated huff that she doesn’t like the sound of.

“Fuck.”

“Are you, like, out?” He settles back against his headboard with a sigh, an answer in and of itself. 

“I bet my roommate has some though. Gimme a sec, I’ll be right back.” Quite the show, his bare ass shuffling out of his room. She lays back on the mattress, maybe wishful thinking in taking off the rest of her clothes, though Steve is quick to return with a grin and a foil packet pinched between two fingers. 

“You sitting pretty like that for me, honey?” A little wolfish, animal and annoying in how smug he smiles as he climbs onto the end of the bed, catching her knee before she can close her legs, palm smoothing down the inside of her thigh. 

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself, Steven.” 

“Steven, huh?” He tilts his head, almost absent-minded, his eyes hooded and heavy, dropped to the crux of her hips. She can’t help her quiet gasp when he drags his thumb through her swollen cunt, pad of his finger notching at her entrance, teasing, testing, before smearing back up to her clit in a lazy arc. 

“Fuck, that’s pretty. Are you ready for me?” Cocky, but also clear care. She leans up on an elbow, puling him down by his nape before her stupid heart can kick up too much at the sentiment. His hair tickles against her sternum, forehead pressed there so he can look down at his fumbling with the condom wrapper, clearly distracted, maybe by the way she’s trailing her foot up and down the back of his leg, dark nail polish against tan skin. 

It’s a stretch, of course. Perfect ache in her hips, all she can manage is an uh-huh high in her throat when he asks her if she’s alright. And then deeper, taking more of him, all of him until it’s Steve letting out the pathetic sounds, something like a whimper that she laps up, tongue flickering behind his teeth. 

The rest is a slow, spiraling, slump. It’s obscenely warm in his room, humid too, so pretty soon sweat starts to pearl and pool. In clavicles, in dips and bend of muscle, skin sticking to skin with salt and sighs, almost smothering with how Steve drapes over her. He moves good, smooth and strong like he knows what he’s doing, though it eventually devolves into a deep grind more than anything else, both of them chasing down pleasure. He smells like that clove gum he was chewing, the menthol too, and like he spent the day out sweltering in the  midsummer heat. She can’t help but dip her nose down into the center of his sternum, breathing him in as her nails dig and slip against his shoulder blades. Though soon he’s coaxing her, lemme see, honey, there you are, pretty eyes. 

Embarrassing really, that’s what snaps and snarls her into and over the edge. His eyes, blown out black, steady and certain on her. She comes so hard that she starts to shiver in the heat.

…

“Mmf.” It isn’t enough to rouse him, still slumped on his stomach with his face pressed into his pillow. But it does feel good, light scratches across his shoulder blades, then trailing up the nape of his neck and into his hair. He sighs, content in his tangle of sheets.

“I know you’re awake.” He can’t help it, smile spreading, one eye squinting open to find Ruth looking right at him, kneeling alongside the bed.

“Why’re you dressed?” 

“I need to go home before my shift. I smell like a swamp.” 

“Sorry, AC is busted.”

“Yeah, I guessed as much.” He squints sitting up, washed down in the early morning light, already missing the feel of her hand tangled in his hair.

“Can I get your number?” For once, he’d like to do this again. Ruth smiles, settling into her hip as she looks down at him.

“You got a pen?” He does, tucked into a notebook that he keeps in the bottom drawer of his nightstand, not even worried about how uncool he looks fumbling for it and a scrap of paper to give to her. Purple nail polish, he notes, so dark the color is only a suggestion. He watches the flicker of it as she passes back the pen and paper to him.

“Thanks for a nice night, pretty boy.” Still sleep-shaken, but with it enough for her words to send a flush of heat up his neck.

“Yeah, Ruth, I had a good time too. So I’ll call you?” Already halfway out his bedroom door, she still smiles over her shoulder.

“Uh-huh, you do that.” 

It’s early enough that he can linger in the scent of her in his sheets, pressing his face hard into the mattress before finally willing himself to get up. By the time he shuffles out into the living room with one and a half boots on, Eddie is back and crunching through a burnt piece of toast in front of the microwave. 

“Hey, who was that spooky-looking chick that slinked– slunk? Whatever, left earlier this morning?” 

“Her name is Ruth.” All that he offers up, pointedly focusing on pouring himself a cup of coffee. Eddie scoffs, crumbs scattering.

“Okay, and? Flavor of the week, or what?” 

“Mmm.”

“No, you’re telling me Morticia is gonna turn an honest man out of you?” Steve’s turn to scoff this time, choosing to take a long pull of coffee rather than indulging Eddie with a real answer. 

“You get her number?”

“Yeah.”

“You gonna call her?”

“Jesus, Ed, yes, lay off.”

“Oh, now I know you really like this one. You’re only bitchy about the ones you really like.” 

“Fuck off. How’s Herb, or whatever his name is.”

“Don’t be so gauche, Steven, and for the record, his name is Leif.”

“Right.”

“Anyways, Harrington Doctrine, yeah?”

“Yeah, man, exactly.” 

Now normally, according to the Harrington Doctrine, Steve should wait a full forty-eight hours, minimum, before even thinking about calling her. He does not follow the Harrington Doctrine. In fact, he barely makes it through the rest of the day without picking up a phone. When he gets home from his shift at the deli, however, he paces himself. Takes a shower first, checks the answering machine, willing away a little more time, anything to temper his apparent want. But when he does finally dial up the number on the scrap of paper he kept tucked in his notebook, he is sorely disappointed by the answer he gets on the other end.

“Brown Bag deli, how may I help you?” First, shock, reasoning to himself that he must have punched it in wrong. He tries again, careful in each button pressed.

“Brown Bag deli, how may I help–” He slams the phone back into its receiver this time, just as Eddie walks through the front door, home from his shift at the tattoo shop where he apprentices.

“Damn, tell that phone how you really feel.” 

“She gave me a fake number.”

“What? Who?”

“Mort– Ruth. I can’t believe this, she seriously gave me a fake number.” With all the tact that he usually has, Eddie plucks the scrap of paper from Steve’s hand, a grumbled lemme see as he dials the number. At first, a lift off of hope in his chest when Eddie stays on the line, brow furrowed.

“Hi, yeah, do you guys still do that portobello melt thing? Can I get that without tomatoes? Yeah, to– hey.” Steve only half pays attention to Eddie’s protest when he takes the phone and clicks it back in the receiver, something heavy settling sick in his stomach.

“She really gave me a fake number. What the fuck?” 

“Sorry, man, I guess no Addam’s Family Values for you.” 

…

He doesn’t usually get like this. Lord knows, Steve has taken his fair share of rejection. So why this one is stinging harder, lingering longer, especially when he barely knew the girl, is beyond him. 

Maybe the boldness of her rejection. A brazen, brash no. The humiliation of unassuming hope, small flames are so quick to be smothered. Or maybe the way he feels like a fool, plain and simple, for thinking there was something more happening when there so apparently wasn’t. Fun, he tells himself. She had been in it for fun. And she got her fun, and got out. And is that not one of his favorite moves in the book? Plenty of fun of his own, after all. 

But what is maybe the worst part, he can’t stop thinking about it, about her. Nearly filled up the rest of his notebook with what he can remember, nearly a whole month’s worth of remembering now. Piecemeal, by this point, the line of her nose, the curve of her brow, half a smile. What he can always recall clearly, the patterned print of flowers that was on her skirt. He scribbles it everywhere, in the margins of old receipts, in sharpie on parchment paper, slow days at the deli getting passed somewhere hazy in his mind. 

He has a headache by the time he gets back to his apartment most afternoons, opting for a few advil and closed blinds over any of the phone numbers that continue to get tucked into his hands.

“How much longer are you gonna do this?”

“Mmm.”

“Steve.”

“What?” He doesn’t have to  look to know exactly how Eddie is standing right now. In the doorway to his bedroom with his arms crossed and his hip cocked to the side, his version of concern.

“It’s been a fucking month, man. Greener pastures, fish in the sea, et cetera et cetera. You haven’t even gone to any shows since the double-M, for Christ’s sake.”

“Double-M?”

“Morticia meltdown.” Steve sighs, more interested in another swatch of flowers that he’s filling a blank page in his notebook with. Mercy, before Eddie can continue to needle him, the phone rings. He only catches scraps of what is said, but his ears prick when he hears Eddie let out a quiet oh.

“Steven, my liege, my lad, it’s  for you!” Great, probably Art calling to find out where the hell he’s been. Still, he gets up, only paying an ounce of attention to Eddie’s shit-eating grin when he takes the phone from him.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Steve?” Still only half-way paying attention, snapping his fingers in Eddie’s direction when he starts rifling through a box of cereal that Steve bought, looking for the dinky plastic toy inside, no doubt. 

“Uh, yeah, who is this?” He snaps his fingers again when Eddie keeps digging through the cereal box, mouthing the words stop it when his roommate still persists in his hunt. Steve’s going to have to buy new cereal. 

“It’s— it’s Ruth? Um, from the Newport, remember?” It’s a strange feeling, first his stomach sinking, a tight fist in his throat too, and most embarrassingly of all, that flip in his chest, that kick of hope, even now, stupid.

“Oh, oh, yeah, I remember. How did– how’d you get this number?” 

“I asked Art for it, figured he’d have your info. Listen, Steve, I need to apologize for what I did. That was just– fucking childish of me, and I hope you know that it had way more to do with my own fucked-upness than it did with anything about you.” 

“Yeah, it’s okay, you know, but it was pretty fucked up.” Stupid, how that hope floats to the top of his throat, because maybe apology means trying again. Maybe he’d like to try again. 

“There’s something else I have to tell you.” 

“Okay?” She sighs, a crackled sound over the line that makes his brow pinch.

“Look, there’s no nice way to say this, so I’m just gonna spit it out.” At this point, Eddie has crept closer, hand still buried in the cereal box, eyes wide and rapt at what is probably a stricken expression on Steve’s face.

“I’m pregnant, Steve.” What does hope turn into? A dizzying feeling, dumb and dull and done. His ears ring with it.

“I– you’re– you– what?” 

“I’m pregnant. And before you do that guy thing of asking if it’s yours, I’m pretty damn sure that it is.” Somewhere in the slow unraveling of this, he has pressed one palm to the wall, whole body slumping toward it, head dropped between his shoulder blades to try to make as much of everything else quiet so he can focus on this.

“Okay, um, okay. Do you wanna– you know– because it’s your body and if you wanna— you should–”

“I’ve decided I’m keeping it.” The way his heart seizes, stops for a beat, and then trips back over itself into rhythm scares him, palm finding his chest like he could rub that feeling out and away. 

“Right, that’s– yeah. Do you, like, need help, or–”

“No, I don’t need your help. I just– it seemed like the right thing to do to tell you, so that’s what I’m doing. But, yeah, I don’t, like, expect anything from you.” Steve scrunches his eyes shut, hard, trying to tamp down the heat starting to rise behind them, a foreign feeling, a falling feeling.

“Yeah, okay, thank you for telling me, Ruth.” Because what else could he say? It’s like he hears the words coming out of his mouth from somewhere just over his shoulder. And there’s more that he’d like to say, the right things to say, but Ruth is already beating him to it.

“So, yeah, I guess that’s all. Take care of yourself, Steve.” Already hanging up, and that sounds permanent. That sounds like no intention of ever seeing him again. The phone hangs by its chord, swinging limp a few inches above the ground.

“Steve, what the fuck was that?” One long exhale for him, shitshitshitshit. Eddie sets down the cereal box and takes him by the shoulders, squared off and trying to catch his vacant, glazed stare.

“I– we– she–”

“Did you use protection?” He blinks, nods, relieved that Eddie has already gotten explanation enough from eavesdropping on the call.

“Yeah, fuck, yes. I took a condom from your stash, it was a brand new box.” Something strange passes over Eddie’s expression, blanching and jaw slackening. 

“Steve, which box of condoms did you open?”

“What do you mean which box? The one in your closet, on the top shelf.” Eddie’s hands drop from his shoulders, brows shot straight up his forehead.

“Oh jesus christ.”

“Jesus christ? What– Ed, what the fuck does that mean?” Steve gets no reply, Eddie already scuttling into his room, followed by the distant sound of rummaging, and then a low curse. 

“So here’s the thing, Stevie, these condoms–” Eddie comes back out of his room brandishing said box of condoms, the box that Steve had opened that night with Ruth. He has a smile that slants sheepish on his face, and Steve is already starting to feel sick.

“Yeah, these condoms are from eighty-nine.” 

“As in– as in nineteen-eighty-nine?” 

“That would be correct, yes.” Eddie has already taken a few tentative steps backward, putting the kitchen counter between him and Steve. But Steve is too struck dumb to even consider anything like vengeance on his roommate, dragging both his hands through his hair and tugging hard until it hurts.

“Who– why– what the fuck are you doing with five-year-old condoms?”

“Ha, well, you see, I figured after a decade or two maybe they’d be worth something, you know? Like a collector’s item.” Wordless, Steve shuffles over to Eddie and takes the box of condoms from his hands, something like a laugh that sounds so sharp Eddie winces at the sound.

“Ed, a signed poster is a collector’s item. This is a box of condoms– this is– this is junk.” 

“Well it’s junk now, Steven, since someone opened it.”

“Oh no, uh-uh, you don’t get to be pissy about this, not when there’s literally a girl who’s pregnant because you’re such a fucking hoarder.” 

“Uh, excuse me, I’m not the one who didn’t check the expiration date when they went fumbling around for a condom.”

“I didn’t think I needed to worry about five-year-old condoms, fuck!” The volume of his voice surprises even him, silence falling heavy and hard in the echo of it. Steve rests his hands on the counter, letting his shoulders shrug up to his ears, slumping down into his bones. Eddie rests a cautious hand on his arm.

“What’re you gonna do?”

“I don’t know, Ed. I really don’t know.”

[igotsnothing]

Beginning/Previous/Next 🐯🥭🐠🌅🪷

Transcript

Uncle Leo, 40- Software Engineer- Married to Auntie Mei: Ok! I left the last boxes in the kitchen. Do you think you’ll still need the dolly? If not, I’ll take it back to the truck.

Lee: I think we’re good now. Let me help you.

Auntie Mei, 40-Real Estate Agent-Lee’s mother’s youngest sister: (Speaking loudly in Tomarani) Neni! We are leaving soon! Where is your purse?

Neni, ??- Retiree-Lee's grandaunt: (In Tomarani)...It’s somewhere.

Anya, 52- Accountant- Lee's mother: (Whispering, in Tomarani) Do you think they’re going to be ok? The air conditioner and ceiling fan are still broken and they don’t even have a box fan. Henry’s not used to this heat. Maybe they should stay with us one more night.

Hiran, 54- Microbiologist- Lee's father: (In Tomarani) They’re going to be fine, Annie. Henry will get used to it. All they have to do is open a window; there’s a nice breeze.

Henry: (Heavily accented Tomarani)

Mali, 16- Student- Lee's sister: No! You are putting the stress on the wrong syllable. If you say it like that, you are telling someone to have a short night, instead of a good night.

Vihn, 10- Student- Lee's little cousin- Mei and Leo's son: HAHA!! A short night! *Snort*

[Laughing and conversations]

Vihn: Have a short night, Mali!

Mali: Ha! YOU have a short night! You’re the little one!

Anya: I’m just saying- it‘s no trouble at all. You can stay with us until your AC units are repaired. Henry, you’d like that better, right?

Lee: Mom...

Henry: AC would be nice, but we have so much unpacking to do still before Lee starts his classes next week.

Hiran: Speaking of which: your suitcase is still in the car!

Henry: Oh, yeah! I almost forgot! Let’s go get it!

Lee: [Heavy sigh]

Henry: Lee? Where did you go?

Henry: What’s going on?

Lee: I"M SORRY!

Henry: For what? Talk to me.

Lee: What was I thinking? What the HELL was I thinking? We had the perfect life back in San Sequoia. And now? I ruined it all. I dragged you across the world to live in a foreign country where you don’t speak the language, where the weather is hot year-round, and we bought an old house with no F*CKING AC!

Henry: Listen-

Lee: What if you decide you hate it? What if it’s too much and you want to return to San Sequoia?

Henry: Lee...

Lee: What if you end up hating me and leaving?...

Henry: Look, it’s perfectly normal to be nervous. This is a HUGE life change for us both! But...We talked about this so much! Ever since you started applying to medical school. Lee: this is the opportunity of a lifetime! You got a scholarship to one of the most respected and prestigious programs in the world! And thanks to its reciprocity agreements with all these different medical schools, transferring your license will be easy IF we decide to move. I knew what I was agreeing to when we decided to move.

Lee: But you are so far away from home...

Henry: What are you talking about? YOU are my home. Please don’t think like that. This is an adventure, and I love that I get to experience it with you.

Lee: Are you sure you are ok with all this?

Henry: You would know right away if I wasn’t.

Lee: True. You’ve always been upfront.

Henry: I’m so proud of you! My honey is going to be a kickass doctor!

Lee: It’s going to be rough for a while. I’m going to be studying all the time.

Henry: You better. I expect to be a well-kept man when you are through!

Lee: [Chuckles]

Lee: Are you ok with my family? They are pretty intense...And very loud and nosy.

Henry: I love your family! They are so warm and welcoming. They even gave up their Sunday to help us move in...That’s awesome!

Lee: I’m a lucky guy.

Henry: I will admit to being a little suspicious of Neni.

Lee: Whaaaat? Why Neni?

Henry: She keeps trying to feed me all the time. I think she’s plotting to fatten me up so she can cook me for Christmas...

Lee: Can you blame her? You’re such a snacc...

Henry: Hey... Are we ok? Are you feeling better?

Lee: Yeah...I am.

Henry: Good. If anything like this comes up again, promise me you will tell me right away. I don‘t like seeing you so upset.

Lee: Promise. And you, too, will tell me right away if anything comes up?

Henry: Something has DEFINITELY come up, baby! No AC can handle this heat!

Lee: You ridiculously adorable perv. C’mere.

[gutwrenchflowerbomb]

I am so over everything right now. I don’t post a ton of personal and real life shit on here but the last few things have been about this goddamn house I rented and the idiot, lazy slum lord flipper who owns it and the fact that there’s so much wrong with it. The last post about it was talking about the slow realization that I had a water leak which was leading to mold and drain flies and shit.

Well, I just got back home after a week of being ousted because they had to demolish part of it and treat the mold and then restore the damage etc.

And I have let the frustration and anger build and finally wrote an email to the property management company about it. So if you wanna read about it the bullshit I’ve had to deal with since August 1st, look under the cut. I’m waiting for a response because of course I sent it and got an auto reply about how they are out of the office after 3pm on Fridays.

I am writing this email in regards to the property at 549 Dresden and the issues there in the past 4 months that I’ve been a tenant. I’ve got a document with every single date and correspondence that I’ve had to initiate over problems at the house. So far, I’ve tried to be understanding and patient and haven’t asked for any concessions but at this point I feel it’s warranted.

As of right now, I have not been able to occupy my house because of the mold issue for 7 days. I was just messaged at 2pm by ServPro that everything was finished. On top of having to find a place to stay during that time, I’ve also lost out on revenue as I have a small business in addition to my main job that I haven’t been able to conduct because I can’t be home. Not to mention the food I’m going to have to toss because it’s been a week (not withstanding that fact that when I did get to the house Friday afternoon to pack a bag to go stay somewhere else, the fridge had been unplugged by Servpro. I have no clue how long it was unplugged and will have to toss EVERYTHING). Plus, I’m going to have disinfect and deep clean all of my clothing, bedding and furniture - basically anything that wasn’t secured in a box or tote.

Adding this to the fact that prior to this I wasn’t able to actually use my shower without the flooding for at least a week before - the leak, although not visible and tangible as it was towards the end with the puddling - was the reason for the insect infestation starting early October. I have the receipt for the UV light I purchased to try and combat it on Oct 12. I also have text messages between myself and loved ones where I discuss the flies and the fact that I was feeling so sick and fatigued and couldn’t understand why. Now after speaking to my doctor, the mold issue was almost certain to be an exacerbating factor if not the sole one.

When I signed the lease I had to email because the place had not been cleaned. While I appreciate the quickness that a crew was sent out to vacuum and clean all the dead flies etc, when I actually was able to move my belongings a few days later, I realized the AC wasn’t working. While trying to determine that I had found the dead mouse. Again, maintenance came to clean that. But from that point it was another TWENTY days I had to wait until the HVAC was rectified - in this case it had to be completely replaced including the units themselves and all the duct work. During those 20 days, nearly all of August the hottest month of year, I had to spend like $80 of my own money to buy fans just to make it sort of tolerable. When I asked the inspector the damage was from mice, he said no. It was just from age and no one maintaining it.

I cannot help but believe this all to be due to negligence at this point. When was this house last properly inspected? I know it was empty for several months based on the info I gathered from Zillow. If it had been inspected properly the mouse, the broken AC and the water damage would have almost definitely be found.

I think with all of this, I am more than entitled to having my rent waived for two months, December and January. If you add the time from August I had no AC, having to buy fans, the weeks of dealing with bugs leading to not having a way to shower to having to be out of the house completely for a week (which your company/the owner would have had to pay for me to be at a hotel but luckily I had someone I could stay with), the health issues it caused, the stress, loss of potential income and the loss of food would probably add up to more than the $2000 two months of rent would cost.

Despite the circumstances and the stress, I do like the house and the area and prefer not to move. When the AC issue was seemingly going to be rejected by the owner, I had to pull out the “Uniform Residential Landlord and Tenant Act” for Louisville Metro to ascertain my rights. I was more than prepared to use any and all legal resources then and will do the same now if I have to, but I wish to remain on good terms with the company and the landlord.

[minotravelspot]

First Day of Class

I find this blog really funny in some ways. I get to ramble on and on and know that whoever is reading is people I'd usually probably ramble to anyway. So if my posts get long winded and just generally a lot of text oopsie not sorry. We're here and I've got stuff to say ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

I'm writing this one through the day so it'll have some random thoughts in it. One thing though I've been thinking a lot about being here is how the States are. It's nice talking to other Americans here if for nothing else than to just be able to take solace in each other and note how different the place we are living is. While we haven't been here very long theres already a massive difference in food quality, quantity, and feeling. It's nice to not feel like garbage after eating out, even at McDonalds. (Melon Fanta I love you so, I've only seen it sold at McDonalds so far. Otherwise it's all grape T.T)

My first class was Japanese. Which was kinda fun. We sang songs and played games to learn counting. It was a lot like being in kindergarten again ¯_ (ᵕ—ᴗ—)_/¯ I got a headache from trying to remember everything but overall it wasn't bad. In between Japanese and my next class I found the dining hall and did my homework in the international student lounge, which ended up being really loud but it was too cold to be outside.

My second class turned out to be an art history class. I am not a fan of art history classes. At all. Its usually a lot of going in circles about the meaning behind things, and first day of that class we were talking about how two gardens were different and okay. After the first two times and points you'd think it's good we're done. Nope. People just kept raising their hands like they HAD to talk and say THE SAME THING in a different way. I'm not going to lie, I stopped paying attention when that happened and I kept hearing the same point repeated. I ended up doodling my sona in my notebook since nothing else was going on.

Anyway after that, frankly kinda awful class (looking if I can change it), I went to Lawson to pick up a snack and some food for later. I'm planning on going to the store today (next day) since I didn't make it there yesterday. Which the only reason I didn't is because we had a residence meeting at 7pm. I don't know about you all but that seems like such a bad time for a residence meeting???

I was already tired by the time it was time for it and pretty much spent the whole thing curled up in my jacket to avoid the noise. To the RA's credit it was well done. Especially to boost moral and everything. They were dressed in costumes and had music. I was just too tired and wanted to go back to my room to eat and pass out.

Overall I haven't found the dorms here awful, but I won't miss them in the slightest. My unit isn't too noisy but my ac unit likes to sound like it's drowning at about 5am-7am and every time someone walks by I can hear it. I miss blasting my music when making food or showering, and walking around however I want to the bathroom. I especially miss how easy it is to recharge my social battery back home. I don't like missing things here but I get tired and grumpy of people being around them so long. I know it's only the start of the second week but man I am so tired.

Bonus Song

[impishtubist]

You’re so so right about the weather. I cannot stand heat, which truly makes hurricane season awful (aside from the obvious reasons of the danger and everything) because Florida + hurricanes = no power so the heat is so much fun to deal with when there is no AC. I think we got maybe 3 weeks total of cool days here this winter, which is an improvement of the winter of I believe last year that had zero cool days. To clarify, I’m using Florida standard for cold, meaning the high was 60-something and the low was in the 40s. We do not get anything like a New York winter.

Anon, you have all my sympathy. I could rant for DAYS about summer and the heat. I will also say that us summer haters have it far, far worse than winter haters. I do not care about your wintertime SAD. I do not care that you don't like the cold. I do not care that you don't like the dark. You only have to suck it up for daylight savings 4 months out of the year. You also get, what, three or four months of true winter weather now anywhere in the globe thanks to global warming? You're FINE. Especially since global warming is just going to make that time shrink in the coming years/decades. Plus, there are ways the average person can actually escape the cold, like layering up and making fires. When it's hot out, can you peel off your skin? Can you make ice by rubbing two sticks together? No, so sit down and shut the fuck up.

There is nothing, absolutely nothing, that can be done to escape the heat. Air conditioning? Yeah, A/C units, if you're lucky enough to have one, can only effectively cool a house by 20 degrees. That was fine 50 years ago, but nowadays when summers are regularly 100+ degrees? Your A/C can only get you down to 80, which is still AWFUL indoors. Your only option is to burrow underground, really, which isn't exactly a fucking solution!

Also, heat is the natural disaster that causes the most deaths worldwide every year. This is what summer lovers cheer for every spring? Gross.

Sorry, I went and ranted anyway. I hate heat and I have no patience for people that like this weather. I'm a raging bitch from March-November and I'm not sorry about it. Fix the planet and maybe I'll stop being a bitch.

You have it much worse than I do down in the south, and I am so sorry, Anon. I wish there was something I could actually do for you, but feel free to vent anytime. Also, I'm dead serious when I say this: if you or anyone reading this has the means to do so, make a plan eventually to move north. It's only going to get worse down south in the coming decades. I'm making my own plan to get even farther north than where I am now. I realize this isn't feasible for most people. There are financial or familial or physical or health constraints, or you just don't plain want to leave your homes. I get it. But if you can, at least see if you can make a plan. Because climate change isn't stopping and it's only going to get worse.

[faegoddessog]

 Seventy Two Hours of Bliss Ch. 11/41

Chapter 11: Glorious Surprises

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, anal play (butt plug), cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected PIV, unprotected PIA (female receiving) (play safe ya'll!!), DP with vibrator, squirting

Series Masterlist

Series Summary:

You are neighbors with Austin Butler on the Gold Coast of Australia just prior to shooting Elvis. You become just friends because he is taken. However, after he is single again, you both find out just how attracted you are to one another and things get unrelentingly hot.

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only,  here there be lemons.

Authors Notes: I started writing this while remodeling my kitchen, so that informed the slightly quirky narrative. It starts slow, but once it heats up, it is on fire. I have tried to pull facts from RL as much as I could, but obviously there are some assumptions and flat out dreamy wishes  involved here. 

Chapter 11: Glorious Surprises

Once you both actually clean up. You slip into a simple, flowy dress making a show of putting on some MeUndies with honey bees on them. Austin wears simple sweat shorts and a t-shirt.

He makes you eggs, toast and greens for breakfast/lunch. While you eat, your toes play together under the table. Neither of you want to break the spell of closeness that you are feeling. Ahh, 'happy-new-person' is just the best.

Austin props his elbow up on the table and sets his chin in his hand. He is watching you with a hint of a smile as you walk back and forth in the kitchen, cleaning up.

“I want to just chill for a while today, is that ok?” he asks.

“Sure, do you need some alone time?” you two have been together nonstop for about 38 hours and that is a lot for people who actually live alone.

“Yeah but, I want to do it with you… does that make sense?” a look of ‘am I weird’ crosses his face.

“Ahh, you want an introverted date," you nod your head knowingly.

“Introverted date? Hmmm, maybe," he sounds unsure.

“You want to be together but doing our separate things with no pressure to interact. Like going to a coffee shop and reading your own book but sitting side by side,” you explain.

“Yeah, I would really like that, I’m craving a flat white right now. Any ideas how we go out without paparazzi catching us?”

“I can go get coffee for us and we can go to the roof,” you need to hit the drugstore for some items for later anyway.

“I didn’t know there was a rooftop patio on the building, “ he says.

“There isn’t, but I happen to have a key for the roof. I had to go check the AC unit up there last week. There is a spot we can go chill for a bit," you reply.

He agrees. You decide to walk to the drug store a few blocks away, giving him some time. You pick up some lube and other supplies for what you have planned for later. You stop for a couple flat whites from his favorite coffee spot and head back. The annoying photographer is waiting on the street again, but steers clear of you as you walk by.

When you get back, you head up to the roof, books and snacks in a bag. You go up the stairwell a couple floors and there is a locked door at the top. You produce the key and end up in a little room with a skylight above you and face to face with a ladder bolted to the wall. It has safety rungs spaced widely in a half circle starting not quite 6 feet up. It’s maybe a 12 foot climb.

You start climbing one handed, holding your coffee, very aware that Austin is looking right up your dress. At the top you open the hatch to the roof and step through. You are between two taller portions of the roof, the one in front of you, probably the elevator shaft, is blocking the ocean view. There is AC equipment etc up here. It is hot.

“I don’t know about this, it might be more comfy on the balcony,” he says unsure.

“Trust me Austin," you take him by the hand and lead him around the elevator shaft. He stops short, as you giggle.

On the top of the building is a virtual oasis of potted plants. There are big ones with fern and palm trees for shade and little ones too. There is even a patch of grass with two lounge chairs positioned facing the gorgeous ocean view. A little fountain burbles on the side and a couple of cool misters spray the plants. It is much cooler here in the shade.

“This is amazing!” he exclaims.

“Yeah, the super of the building is a hobby gardener. He told me I could hang up here if I wanted to," you can’t help but smile. Sitting in one of the chairs, you kick off your shoes. You reach into the bag, pull out the books and hand him his and a PBJ sandwich.

He leans down to kiss you, “This is amazing," he isn't talking about the roof top.

He sits down in the other chair, removing his shoes, then gets up and pulls the foot closer to yours. He lays back and opens his book, reaching his toes over to touch your feet.

You stay that way for much of the afternoon, reading and munching on snacks. Soon, you hear soft snoring next to you. You look over, the book is on his chest and he is out.

You get up quietly and make your way back to your apartment to prepare your ass for later. You clean yourself out with the enema you bought from the store earlier. Just thinking about Austin’s cock in your ass starts to make you wet again. You go find the silver metal butt plug in your bag of toys… and cleverly leave out your favorite vibrator on the bedside table, then shrug to yourself and leave your favorite dildo out too. You lube up the butt plug and slowly insert it into your ass, it almost feels like too much at the drop off point, it always does at first. You move it in and out a few times, loosening your hole, moaning to yourself, then it pops in and nestles between your cheeks. You love how it feels just a bit heavy when you walk. You leave your bee underwear on the end of the bed.

Once back on the roof, you find Austin is still softly snoring. You sit back down and nestle your feet against his again. You are trying to get back into your book, but the knowledge of the stopper in your ass and what is to come later is very distracting. Luckily, Austin wakes up a few minutes later, moving his feet on yours. He reaches over to you and strokes your arm.

“Hey baby,” his deep voice and soft touch further arousing you.

“Hello you," trying to keep your desire hidden, “nice nap?”

“The best,” he smiles, god that smile melts you, "do you want to head back down?”

“Let's,” is all you can say.

You gather up your things and he takes the lead. He goes down the ladder first and is looking up your dress again as you climb down. You hope he catches a glimpse of silver. When you're in arms reach, his hands slide up your legs to your naked ass as you reach the bottom.

“Where did your bees go?” he says. Your skirt is hiked up over his hands as he fondles your curves.

“Maybe they buzzed away, ” you say coquettishly.

His lips are brushing yours, “Naughty Bees, what is going to protect you from me now?”

He slides his hand between your legs and presses his palm against your mons, rubbing little circles. Little breathy “Oh's” fly from your lips to perch on his. His long fingers curl under, seeking your wet pussy lips, but his finger tips land on the hard base of your butt plug. The jostling movement makes you gasp.

“What do we have here?” he says, gently moving it around as you moan, “I thought I saw something flashing at me as you came down. Is this what you were doing while I was napping?”

You nod, biting your bottom lip.

His voice gets husky with desire, “Show me.”

“Ok, let's go back and-” you begin to turn towards the door.

“No,” he interrupts, "show me right here. Go up, sit on the cage” indicating the ladder with a nod of his head.

You climb up, his hands on you the whole time. You manage to put one leg on either side of the bottom rung of the cage, your back to the ladder. Holding on to the rung above to keep from falling, your dress streaming like the curtains of a stage behind you. You are completely exposed from below, offering Austin a gratuitous view of your pussy and ornamented ass.

“Oh fuck,” you hear him mumble to himself as he looks up.

You are hovering right in front of his face. He reaches up and pets your wet folds before touching the base of the plug with one finger and wiggling it side to side, making you clench and gasp.

Without warning, he closes the gap between his mouth and your clit. All you can do is hold on as he laps slowly, tongue swirling. He continues to wiggle the silver trinket. You wonder if you are dripping onto his shirt, you are so wet all of a sudden. He groans against your pussy, lapping deeper at your sweet cunt, the vibrations of his voice sparking more sensations of pleasure.

Then he slides his fingers in between your lips, feeling the round hardness of the plug from inside. You both are groaning in arousal. Sliding in and out of your pussy and pressing the plug, he sucks at your clit, making you squirm and pant softly. You could come like this, hanging on for dear life as you get eaten out by Austin, damn he is good with his tongue.

Suddenly he pulls away, wipes his face on your skirt and raises his hands to help you down.

“Get down, let’s go," he commands.

Untangling yourself from the metal rungs you stop when you are even with his face and kiss him hard.

“The real question, Austin, is what is going to protect you from me?" you say with a smirk.

“Not a damn thing,” there is something wild in his eyes. He tosses you over his shoulder, he is surprisingly strong. He carries you down the mercifully empty stairwell.

" Austin, I can walk you know," You giggle.

"I'm not letting you get away! Bees or no bees." Opening your apartment door, he takes you directly to your bedroom and he tosses you down onto the bed.

Before you can catch your breath, he is upon you, lips on yours, tongue dancing on yours. He is intense. His hands are kneading your breasts through your dress, his hardness hot between your legs. He reaches down and pulls your skirt up. He swirls his fingers around your clit and slides along your inner lip. He presses his finger under the base of the plug, rubbing the lube into the edges of your hole. The pressure against your asshole both inside and out and makes you moan.

“Ungh,” he growls appreciatively from his throat.

Heat rises quickly into need as he reaches to his own crotch and takes himself out. He rubs some of the wetness on his tip and then directs it to your slit. He pushes in, groaning, feeling the plug's hard bulge rub against his dick.

It. Feels. Amazing- for both of you.

He plunges in and out of you. He is propped up on straight arms above you, his hands are grasping yours, inadvertently holding you down. His head is thrown back in pleasure.

He seems to have a short attention span today as he stops after only a handful of strokes, takes a big breath and pulls out. You unconsciously whimper as he leaves you.

“Oh hunny, 'm sorry, but I’m savin' m'self for yer ass,” he smiles down at you, ”I just needed t' feel yeh 'round me.” he has dropped into his Elvis voice again.

He peels your dress off, and in a flash he is naked in front of you. You lean back on your elbows, knees bent, blatantly admiring his muscular, yet lean body.

“I would never get tired of seeing you naked, with that glorious cock, about to fuck me,” you comment.

He puffs out a little laugh, looking down and away, suddenly shy. Then his glance lands on your body, his eyes glaze over in lust. He kneels on the bed at your feet.

“Do you have any idea how sexy you are? All casually leaned back, curves for days.” he reaches out, biting his bottom lip. He skims your knee and inner thigh with his fingertips. “Legs open just enough that I can see you glistening and that plug glinting at me.” He seems to have not realized that he is crawling on top of you again.

You reach out and grab the back of his neck. Pulling him to you for a deep fiery kiss, tongues curling against each other. You trap his full bottom lip between your teeth for a second before you pull away,

“Now,” you say, reaching for the lube then rolling over underneath him, “how about we start with my little surprise.” You push back into him, ass in the air, forcing him to his knees. You hand him the lube.

“Yes, Ma’am,” fucking Elvis again, still toe curling.

He starts by moving the base side to side, pushing it in a little. The thumb on his other hand stroking your lips.

“Can I pull it out?” he asks.

“Slowly,” you say, nodding.

He grasps the base and starts pulling. Your ass resists at first, having to go over the largest part of the plug first. You are gasping short little breaths.

“Am I hurting you?” he asks.

You shake your head, "It’s just stretching me is all, keep pulling.”

Finally your ass lets it go and it slides out quickly as you exhale audibly.

“Wow, that is a little bigger than I expected it to be,” he says.

“It’s smaller than your cock. You should fuck me with it a bit so I can be ready for you,” you instruct.

He drips more lube onto your asshole and rubs the toy around in it then presses it into your hole. Little ‘ohs and ooos’ sound from your mouth.

“Wow,” he breathes to himself, as your ass pulls it in past the neck.

He grips and pulls it out again, it comes easier this time. He starts rubbing your pussy, fingertips slipping in at the same time as he slowly moves the plug in and out of your ass. The stretching starts to feel good and you are pushing back against him.

After a couple minutes You reach back to get him to stop and sit up on your knees.

“Lay down,” you tell him. He puts the butt plug on the bedside table and lays on his back.

”Hold yourself,” you take a moment and appreciate how hot he looks with his cock in his hand, not being able to stop stroking himself. You drip lube on him, he groans as he rubs it in.

You straddle him and position his tip at your partially stretched ass hole.

Slowly you push yourself down onto him, trying to relax as you go. You are gasping at every inch.

He is saying “Oh, Oh, Oh,” over and over again, his head thrown back against the covers. His sexy fucking Adam's apple juts out from the curve of his neck. Finally he is fully seated in your ass.

“Oh fuck that is tight. My god-Are you ok?” he is waffling between pleasure and worry.

“Oh yes, are you?” you put your hands on his chest. He grabs your hips in response.

“Omigodyes,” he says as you move slowly up and down a few inches on his cock. Up and down. Your ass is getting used to his girth and starting to feel really, really good and you rise all the way off him and push all the way down again, your wet pussy rubbing on his pubic bone.

You are both uttering indistinct sounds of pleasure, lost in sensations.

You pull off him all the way, then push him into you, riding up and down on just the head of his cock.

He lifts his head up, eyes boring into yours from under his lashes. His neck muscles straining, chin tilted a bit to the side and down, jawline tense and heaving through his teeth. You can tell that he is barely controlling himself. You curl your lip in a naughty smile. Reassured that your ass has expanded to fit him, you pull off him and lean down close to his face.

“Ok, I’m ready,” you state.

“For what?” he asks.

“For you to take over and really fuck me in the ass,” you answer.

The corner of his mouth curves up as an animal-like growl rises in his throat. You can almost see his demon break free through his blown pupils.

He grabs you and rolls you over on to your back. He stands up, pulls you by the hips to the edge of the bed. Luckily it’s a tall bed. Your legs are splayed apart, feet up. He guides his head at your stretched out hole. Without hesitation, he pushes his cock into your ass slowly but steadily. You find your hand rubbing back and forth on your mound

“Oh fuck yes, just like that,” you affirm.

“Pull your pussy lips apart,” it was not a request. You reach down with the other hand and spread your outer labia, showing him your pink cleft. He is watching himself slide in and out of your ass.

“Mmmm, your inner lips are opening and closing as my cock moves in your ass," his fingers brush over your lips then slide inside your pussy, "Whoa, I can feel myself moving in you." He is aroused and enthralled.

“Oh that feels so damn good,” you moan.

After a few minutes of a slow, steady rhythm that bit by bit is building your orgasm, he stops his hips. His fingers leave your pussy. You open your mouth to whine but his wet fingers slide in. You start sucking and licking yourself off them greedily.

“Look at me,” he commands as you hear a buzz. You open your eyes to see your vibrator between your face and his. It's tight curve is meant to slide in and stimulate both your g spot and your clit.

“I’m going to slide this into your pussy as I fuck your tight little ass," you recognize that he is as much asking, as telling you.

Your eyes widen and you nod as your nostrils flare in desire. You have always wanted all your holes filled. You grab his hand to keep his fingers in your mouth.

He slides the vibrator into your saturated slit. And starts to move in and out of your ass again, feeling the pulsations on his cock.

“Ohgawohgawohgaw” your words are stoppered by his fingers. You are lost in sensations. His dick in your ass, pushing the vibrator up into your g-spot with every thrust, his fingers in your mouth and the vibrating sensations on your clit. These are your whole world right now.

You hear a howling. You realize it’s you, screaming around his fingers. Your climax is starting from a whole new place, deep inside you.

You wail as you come, squirting around the vibrator, drenching his cock and your ass in sweet fluids.

“Oh my god,” he intones. He slows down for a second, “Fuck that is hot.”

You turn off your vibrator off, trying to catch your breath. He reaches down and turns it back on, pressing it to your clit.

”Oh no baby you keep that going,” he holds it in place and begins moving back and forth with intensity. Your own juices lubing your asshole and his cock.

You feel out of your body. “I. don’t. know . if….. “ each word breaking from your tongue with each delicious thrust. You both want more and aren't sure if you can take it.

You feel his hand in the middle of your chest, pressing down tethering you to the bed, to your body, to the incredible pleasure he is giving you.

“Oh no, you are gonna take my cock until we both come,” his voice is low, rumbling and coarse with desire.

You nod, fucking loving this dominance.

He lets go of the vibrator to grasp your upper thigh, pulling you onto him as he pounds into your ass harder than before. You start to fall apart, only his hand on your chest is keeping you from disintegrating.

He fucks you hard, a string of 'oh yeah's' falling from him and crumbling into panting vocalizations.

You thrash, keening like a siren, on his cock, squirting all over him again. The vibrator pops out in a gush. He keeps on slamming into your ass for another couple of glory filled minutes. You are still coming so hard, you are starting to see black at the edges of your vision. For second you go limp, but don't realize it. Finally, a savage roar rips from his chest, his whole body shakes as he thrusts deep, shooting his cum into your ass.

He collapses on top of you. You are both panting, shivering. Your ass squeezes around his cock with each immense aftershock, making you both squirm. Finally, he starts to pull out of your ass. It is so wet with his cum and your fluids, it feels so fucking good. You can’t help but rub your pussy as he pulls out. You feel his cum leaking out and down your crack. You squeeze your knees together curling fetal around your core as you moan and convulse.

He is right there behind you, arms around you. Whispering to you, coaxing you back to him.

You two stay that way for a while as your heartbeats recover and the world normalizes. He is stroking your hair.

“Are you ok baby, I thought you passed out for a second?” he asks, sounding a little concerned.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you breathe and nod.

“Oh. My. God. “ he rolls onto his back,” did that just happen?”

You rollover, nestling alongside his chest, “if you mean how you fucked my ass so hard and so well that I squirted all over you. Then you did it again and I came for like 10 minutes and almost blacked out. Then yes, it did just happen.”

”I have never gotten to witness squirting before, did you know you could do that?” he asks, impressed.

“No, that was the first time I’ve gushed like that,” you answer.

“I have to revise your statement from this morning,” he puts his finger on your chin to tilt your head up, boring into your soul with his eyes, “I don’t know what we did to deserve this, but it's so much more than fun.”

The only reply you have is to kiss him. He is right, ‘fun’ is too shallow a word for what just passed between you.

[meg2md]

Yooooo it's so hot outside, and the only place in my entire apartment with AC is the small window unit in my bedroom, but I don't want to be in my bedroom because that's the ONLY part of my apartment I've "seen" for the past 4 weeks on nights because all I do is come home and sleep and I REALLY want to dick around on the internet and play video games and finish Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow for book club tomorrow but it's so damn hot I can barely concentrate!!!

But

One more week of nights. ONE MORE. And then I'm officially a third year, which kind of blows, especially because last night was terrible. Got gaslit by an attending and cried in the signout room, then had my first bad cesarean delivery complication. :')

One of the interns told my co-resident that she feels safe with me and trusts my clinical judgement and is excited to work with me in a chief capacity, but I still feel like the world's biggest dummy. And next week, god, I do two nights of onc nights. Just me and the onc service. Duuuuuuude I'm so scared. Like my medicine friends have all dealt with a lot of the stuff I'm sure I'll get paged about, but I've been exclusively in charge of labor, antepartum, postpartum, and benign gynecology, which is mostly healthy people. Or unhealthy pregnant people, but I'm more familiar with those problems. Now I have to navigate SICK PATIENTS. Which is WILD. Things I anticipate getting paged about:

Afib/SVT

SOB/AHRF

Fevers

N/V, especially post-op

AMS

Hypotension

Decreased urine output

Vaginal bleeding

Medications

Post-op pain

And then I may also have to fill in the ORs if cases run late. I talked over some of these with my chief last night and she made it sound more manageable, but wow. I'm intimidated.

And to have to do onc nights and then roll up to present my research proposal and get asked questions I probably won't be able to answer in front of a crowd!!! Wow, kill me now. I don't have any idea what they're going to ask me or how to be prepared to answer their questions. But it's Friday morning so I'd best buckle up.

And then after staying late for research day, to have to show up to graduation and then back to the hospital for a night call shift, where at least I'll be back in antepartum/benign gynecology land.

I'm exhausted thinking about it. About how I'm going to survive this last sprint when I'm already so worn down and exhausted.

And then on top of ALL OF THAT my sink overflowed and massively damaged the apartment below me. I love being an adult!!!!!!

& I have to start organizing this webinar that I'm doing, so probably tonight I need to watch a couple of the pre-existing APGO ones. It's 7/10 and June is almost over. & I am trying to get the ball rolling on medical student surgical skill education but I didn't realize people had already tried to implement something and just didn't have time to make it consistent so now I feel like I'm walking all over people's toes. IDK. The politics of residency still baffle me. Is it ok for me to take over a project that has fallen to the way side? Who knows.

I'm just tired, and really hot, and very grumpy, and I have no motivation to do anything but have somehow thrown my laundry in the dryer, which is usually as far as I get, and then it sits there for days

[swiftlymoniquesblog]

Perfect Storm - Dean Winchester x Reader

A/N: Hi friends! I know I’ve been rather absent with posting stuff but life has been HECTIC! I work two jobs, seven days a week right now so it’s a lot and I’m exhausted. Anywho, this imagine is part of @supraveng ‘s follower challenge! I’ve been working on this since like August of 2022 or so and was supposed to be done by the first of September but she allowed me an extension. Thanks for that babe, and congrats on 500 follows! 

Masterlist of all Masterlists| Supernatural Masterlist

Warnings: FLUFF! Breakdown, crying, comfort. Someone has a HUGE breakdown so if that’s a trigger for you, I am sorry!

Word Count: 5,887

Thanks for being patient with me friends! Love to you all!

It’s been six weeks since we’ve been on the road, trying to figure out where Chuck could be hiding. That asshat has been messing with Sammy and I for way too long, trying to take over the world. Sure, he’s God but that doesn’t mean he has to control every little thing and try killing us in the process! And since we have no leads, we’ve been trying to find other cases to work and more people to save. I was currently sitting behind the wheel of my beloved Baby, Sam beside me, scrolling through his phone, while AC/DC played from the car stereo and a pretty impressive drum solo came up.

“Dean, for once can we listen to anything but AC/DC?” Sam asks, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers as I continue my solo. 

“Sammy, what have I always said?  Driver picks the music,” 

“Shotgun shuts his cake hole, I know,” he finished my sentence. “But what if I drove?”

“Oh risky question, little brother” I reply.

“I’ll drive when you sleep.” 

“Yeah and how often do I actually sleep, Sam?” 

Last time I slept without a nightmare was…well I don’t really know. The nightmares have been getting increasingly worse the last few months. Not that I’ve slept well before that but since Jack accidently killed our Mom, that’s been a struggle. I’ve watched her die twice now, something no child should ever have to see, especially at four years old. But even the second time, it's pretty bad. I still hate the kid for what he did but I’ve forgiven him…for now. Sam had a somber look on his face and knew I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. 

“So get this, there have been an unusual amount of homicides in a small town in Northern Texas, more than they normally deal with in the year, in just six months.”

“Huh, doesn’t sound like our kind of thing. People are just nuts today, Sammy,”

“True, but there is something that seems like we would do. Each time someone goes to recover the body, there is nothing left.” Sam says.

“Okay that might be something we could work on but, I’m not convinced it’s a monster yet,” I say.  

“Maybe not, but I think it’ll be worth checking out.”

Redirecting our path, I drove Baby in a U-turn and headed off to the nearest small town in Northern Texas, where these cases stemmed from. Several hours passed and we ended up in Wichita Falls and rolled into a small motel on the east side of town. Once we were settled, Sam pulled out his laptop and began typing away at the keys while I searched for a place to get a good burger by looking through flyers in the room. Sam tuned into a police scanner and soon enough there was a call in regards to suspicious activity near our motel.

‘”Dean, I think we got something,” Sam says, turning the volume up.

“All units, we have gunshots out by the WayfarerMotel. RP (reporting party) advised at least six shots were heard, no sound of vehicles but advised there were people arguing on the south side of the property near the freeway,” A female voice called over the radio and responses of “10-4” were soon followed.

Sam and I grabbed our guns, checking to make sure they were loaded and ready to go. We didn’t interfere with the police but did offer them assistance when it came to the investigation aspect. Looking out the windows, we watched as several vehicles had been on scene and officers were searching for the suspect. Soon after, more shots were fired, shouts of “he’s trying to run” and soon enough, someone was handcuffed. 

“Wait, where is the body?!” Someone yells and a swarm of officers and other investigators gathered around to see if there was a victim. Sam and I took that as our queue to come on scene.

“Gentlemen, this is a closed scene” a voice said, turning to shoot us questioning looks.

“It’s okay, we’re from the FBI, I’m Agent Stan, this is my colleague Agent Lee,” I say flashing my fake badge, Sam following the lead.

“We didn’t call in the FBI,” another officer said.

“I’ll be honest, we were off duty and heard of the incident, wanted to see if we could help out.” I said, trying to ease the confusion.

“I’ll allow it,” one of the Sergeants on scene said, seeming to not care about the fight.

“So what’s happened? We’ve heard there’s been a string of homicides with no victims found?” Sam asked, pulling a notepad out of his pocket.

“Not a single one and this is abnormal for the city to have this many homicides in one year.” An officer, later introduced as Officer Hughes, explained the incident.

“Any leads on what is happening? Is any suspicious person found or any other activity that all the cases have had in common?” 

“Well we did find something in each case that relates them together in some bizarre way. Each case has the same call for service. Caller calls in, advises of gunshots, hears people arguing, we get on scene and only one person is found. Aside from the callers, just one person is found. We handcuff them just for safety precautions but the majority of the time, we end up letting them go. In all my years I’ve worked in law enforcement, I’ve never seen anything like this. No definite suspect, no found victims. So we can’t fully rule them as homicides either because there is nobody.” Officer Hughes said.

“Well we might be here for a little while then so we can help out,” Sam said, trying to add a helping hand.

“That won’t be necessary gentlemen, we have enough people on this,” Officer Hughes said, dismissing us as he got back to his vehicle. 

“Well that went well,” I said, sighing in exasperation.

“Come on, I bet if we head back to the police station, someone might be able to give us some information.” Sam said, settling into the passenger seat.

I grabbed a few supplies before I sat behind the wheel of my precious Baby and found the station was not too far from our motel. Pulling up, I find a parking space across the street from the building and Sam and I walk up the steps to the front doors of the station. It was the eerily morning hours, not too many people on the streets, the perfect time for people to commit crimes. Opening the large door, a young woman sat behind the desk, looking up at us when the door slammed behind us.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” She asks, eyes flitting between the two of us. 

“Uh yeah, I’m Agent Stan, this is Agent Lee, we’re with the FBI,” I say and we both flash our badges.  

“We were just on scene of the shooting by the Wayferer Motel and we weren’t able to get a lot of information. Do you think there’s anyone we can talk to about this?” Sam says, giving a small grim to the woman.

“Well given the fact that it's three in the morning, most people aren’t here and won’t be here until eight or so. Y’all might want to come back,” she says, looking back to her computer in front of her.

“Maybe you can help us. Do you know anything about the string of potential homicides that have been happening here lately?” I say, trying to turn on my charm as best as I could.

“No and even if I did, I’m not at liberty to discuss cases with anyone, even other law enforcement,” she says.

“Alright well, here’s my card, whenever someone is available, have them give me a call. You have a good rest of your morning,” I say, shooting the woman a wink.

The next morning, we headed back to the station to see if there was anyone we could talk to. “Good morning gentlemen, how can we help you?” Another lady at the front desk said as we walked to the window. 

“Yeah we were here last night trying to see if we could talk to anyone about the shooting at the Wayfarer Motel.”

“Do you have any information about it?” The lady asked.

“No but we were on scene and we’re with the FBI,” Sam and I flashed our badges as soon as I said FBI.

“Let me call over to the detectives and see if we can’t find someone to come talk to y’all.” 

“Thank you,” Sam says and we both start looking at the displays hung around the lobby.

“Agents.” A male in a black polo shirt and khaki pants with a badge around his neck walks to us and shakes our hands.

“I’m Detective Parker, follow me,” he says, leading us through a door and taking him into a room with a table and some chairs.

“So y’all were on the scene last night?” Detective Parker asked us.

“Yes we were staying at the hotel and we’ve heard about some of the incidents where someone is shot but there’s no body’s left,” Sam explains.

Detective Parker sighs and runs a hand down his face. “It made no sense as to what happens to the bodies after they’re shot. We have no answers and our citizens are getting frustrated as to why their family members’ bodies are not there to bury or cremate them.”

“And that’s why we’re here. Tell us everything you do know,” I say. 

A few hours go by as we dive deep into the last weeks of the calls and cases from the City. I get up to go grab some coffee and stumble to an office where a bunch of ladies are sitting behind computers and answering phones. 

“Well hello ladies,” I smirk to the room of beautiful women.

“Who are you?” One of them pipes up and asks. 

“I’m Agent Stan of the FBI. I’m here helping with some of the shootings y’all have had here. Y’all know anything about those?” I ask.

“We heard about them but we don’t know anything. The guys don’t tell us anything, just what happened.” Another clerk said and she immediately caught my attention. She had long (y/h/c), bright (y/e/c) eyes, and she didn't bother looking at me much longer after that first comment. It seemed like she wasn’t impressed with me and that made me more intrigued by her.

“I see, is there anything you can tell me sweetheart?” I ask, trying to turn on my charm but again, she seemed unimpressed.

“That’s it now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to get back to,” she says, her tone harsh but I found it interesting. 

“Pardon me ma’am,” I say using my best Southern voice but the look of annoyance on her face proved she couldn’t care less.

Most of the time,  I can get away with some flirting with women, this one? She’ll be more of a challenge.”

“Agent Stan?” A voice called to me. I stand and follow him back to another room off set by the clerks area. 

“So, what kind of leads do you have, if any?” He asked, Sammy was  already in the room. 

“Well, we kind of have a few ideas but you wouldn’t believe us,” I said, shooting a pointed look to my younger brother. 

“Try me, I’ve been in this for a long time. I’ve heard just about everything,” the lead investigator on this and other shootings said. 

“We think it might be a series of soul eaters” I say.

“What now?” 

“Soul eaters, they are exactly what you think they are. Since all the bodies that have been killed here are basically hallowed out shells, we think there may be several around the area. Unfortunately, they are not easy to kill but we do know someone who can and can set the souls back to the bodies they were taken from,” I explained as rationally as I could but I knew it seemed crazy to those who were not used to hunting. 

“Well that is definitely something I didn't expect to hear but it also isn’t the most out there answer I’ve heard either.”

“Alright, well let us call our guy and see what he says about it.” I say, giving a pointed look to the detective, wondering what other crazy things he’s seen but deciding not to ask. 

I grab my phone out of my pocket and scroll down my contact until it stops on the name. I hate asking this guy for help but he’s our only source for this case so I push back my personal feelings and press the call button. 

“Hello Dean,” his accented voice, full of entitlement, rang through my ear.”

“Ketch, we need your help,” I say.

“Well hello to you too,” he says and I can just hear the dumb grin on  his face.

“Yeah hi, listen we’re out here in North Texas and we’re helping the local police on a case we think you may have experience in,” I say, getting straight to the point.

“Oh, where in Texas are you? My daughter happens to be out there and she works at a police department,” he says.

“Since when did you have a kid?” I ask.

“Oh, never mind that. Where am I going?”

“Wichita Falls.”

“That’s where my daughter lives!” 

Oh crap, so Ketch’s offspring works at the police department here? Awesome.                                                                                                                  

A few hours later and we’re back at the scene of the crime. Ketch wanted the low down on what we’ve discovered up to this point so we decided to meet at the scene and go over what we know.

“So the bodies are never found?” Ketch asks.

“Nope they’re completely gone. Nothing is left behind but there’s always signs of some form of homicide,” Sam explains.

“And you lads are thinking its,” he trails off until I pipe in with our research.

“Soul eaters, except they’ve evolved so much over the years, they’re not just taking souls anymore.”

“Interesting, well you called the right person then,” Ketch says, standing up and heading to his car.

“So?  What does that mean?” I say, Sammy and I quickly follow him. 

“It means that I’ve seen it once before,” he said, Sam and I catching up with him. 

“You have?” Sam asked.

“A long time ago, yes. It was a rather tragic event for the families but we were able to get the bodies back.”

“How?” I ask.

“Well it won't be easy but we have to…make a sacrifice of sorts,” he says, making his way back to his car. “Follow me back to the station and I’ll go over the details with detectives.” 

We jump inside Baby and speed down the highway, much like Ketch had left. When we finally pulled back to the station, it was nearing five o’clock and a lot of the employees had been leaving for the day.

“Dad!” A female voice says, bounding over to Ketch and wrapping her arms around him.” 

“(Y/N)!” he says, turning to the girl I noticed in the criminal investigation section earlier; no.

“Gents, I’d like for you to meet my daughter, (Y//N), (Y/N) this is Sam and Dean. They are friends of mine.”

“Oh the Winchesters? I thought you didn't like them?” She says and I chuckle; I like this girl.

“Well not at first, no, but we’ve all come to an agreement of sorts.”

“So, you’re Ketch’s daughter,” I say, looking at the woman.

“Not by blood. He adopted me when I was a kid. My bio parents died in a hunting accident when I was six and Ketch happened to be there, so he took me in,” she says.

“Well, we’re glad you’re here, (Y/N),” Sam says, reaching to shake her hand; I just nod at her.

I couldn’t believe it, even for a minute, I thought a girl related to Ketch was beautiful. 

As our investigation went on, so did the opportunities for (Y/N) to show up unannounced, or so it seemed. Like, I thought she had a job at the department, but somehow she always ended up there, along with her Dad, to help assist us in our investigation. Not that I really minded her company but it was a little…odd.

“Don't you have something better to do?” I ask her as she’s going through some paperwork from the shooting.

She stopped flipping through the pages halfway between the pile and looked up to meet my gaze. “I’m helping on this case, y’all need some help sometimes, right?” 

“Well yes but I thought you had another job to do?” I ask. 

“I’m getting the feeling you don’t want me around Winchester,” she says, now more frustrated with me.

“I don’t care what you do,” I say, trying to play off how I was feeling underneath the surface. To be honest, I did care what she did. I barely know the girl but she’s getting under my skin and inside my head. What the hell is happening here I have no idea but all I know is I like being around her.

“Well clearly you do otherwise you wouldn’t be asking,” she says, raising an eyebrow in a challenging way.

Shit that wasn’t supposed to happen. I thought to myself so I did the best thing I knew to do; I walked away. I don’t know what my problem was but this had to stop. I couldn’t like Ketch’s daughter, her father is literally the biggest douche I’ve ever met so no way could I get involved with her. But the way she moved when she walked, swaying in the slightest way, her head held high like she owned the place. She didn’t  look a thing like her Dad but there was more to her than that. She had that long (y/h/c) that flowed past her shoulders and down her back. It was just a little wavy and seemed to have more than one color in it but it suited her well. And those big beautiful (y/e/c) and a perfect smile to match. In just the few short days we were working this case, she has taken over every thought of mine so naturally, I didn’t like her. 

“Dean, are you ready to go?!” Sam yells to me from the other room.

“Yeah,” I called back and grabbed my gear before meeting up with Sam, Ketch and (y/n). “What is she doing here?” 

“She is here to help. Believe it or not gents, she does know about this life and has helped me out more than a time or two,” Ketch explained. 

“As long as she stays out of the way,” I say, throwing a duffle bag into the trunk before making my way to the front. I could hear her huff in annoyance but I could care less. 

We drove around town for a while, trying to find the supplies we were going to need for our “sacrifice” before we headed back to the motel where the last body was supposed to be. Gathering everything together, we followed Ketch’s instructions and then it was time for the dreaded part. 

“So what exactly do we need to sacrifice?” Sam asks. 

“Well, that’s where it can be rather difficult. We don’t need an entire person or thing to sacrifice, but we need the blood of the pure of heart,” Ketch explains.

“Who would that be?” I ask before following his eyes over to his daughter. Her face turned a bit pale, knowing her blood was going to be nearly drained from her body but she didn't hesitate. 

“Tell me what I have to do,” she says.

“I know this won't be easy for you darling, but I will be right here the entire time,” Ketch says, attempting to comfort his child. 

“Dad, I’m not a child, I can do this,” she says.

“I know but you are my child, my only child for that matter and I worry about you,” he says.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve put myself in a little bit of a difficult place for helping you out and I’m sure it won’t be the last,” (Y/N) says. 

As much as I hate to admit it, she’s incredible for doing this and doing it more than just one time. I’m not saying I care about (y/n) or anything but this is going to be a risky task. She’s going to need to give a generous amount of blood for this sacrifice and to see she’s okay with going in without a second thought; it's admirable. It was almost as if we were in a hospital; we had a needle hooked up into her arm and tube after tube of blood was being drawn from her. I could tell it was making Ketch uncomfortable because it was his child, whether biologically or not, so I escorted him out of the room. 

“Here, let’s go get a beer or something,” I say, clapping my hand on his shoulder and walking out. 

“I’m sorry Dean, I just couldn't stand to see that much blood coming from my daughter,” Ketch says, sighing in defeat as we sat across one another at the map table in the Bunker. 

“Hey, there’s no need to apologize. I’m worried about her, too,” I say. 

A moment of silence passed between us before Ketch spoke again. “You care for her don’t you?” 

“What? No, I don’t care for her!” I say, suddenly becoming defensive.  

“You do; I can see it on your face. I’ve had the same look before and it does not go away so easily,” he says, frowning and dropping his eyes to the floor. 

“Okay so what if I do? Is that so bad?” I ask. 

“No it's not, but since this is my daughter we’re talking about, it does make a bit of difference.”

“Look Ketch, I would never hurt her,” I say, trying to explain what I hope I can do for his child. 

“I know you wouldn’t, Dean. In fact, I’m not worried about her dating you, if that is what she wants. I am worried about this life; hunting. She has had some exposure to it but I try to shelter from it most of the time. If she’s around you, I’m afraid someone or something will get to her and there would be no point for my life to continue at that point.” Ketch was being really vulnerable and I was surprised to say the least, but I respected it. Sure, we had our issues trusting him in the past but this is his kid and right now, she is all that matters.

“Dad?” A groggy voice calls to the room. 

“Hey kiddo, your  Dad went to get you some supplies for when you woke up. We all became worried when you went whiter than a sheet but we managed to get you back. You’ve been sleeping for the last few hours cause you did lose a lot of blood but we’ve monitored you,” I saw, looking down at the young girl on the bed in front of me. 

“So did you get enough blood for the spell?” She asks. 

“That is nothing you need to worry about. We need you to get back on your feet,” I tell her. 

“But you don't need anymore blood?”  I chuckle at her, not being able to believe she’s been so concerned with this, but it makes sense. 

“No, we don’t need any more blood.” She takes a giant sigh of relief and slumps back into her bed. I smile as I watch her for a moment before I get called. 

“Hey Dean, we need your help out here,” Sam calls to me and just as I was about to tell (y/n) I notice she had fallen asleep. 

“Okay,” I call back and look down at the young Men of Letters’ daughter and lean down to press my lips on her forehead.

“What do we got?” I say, walking into the main room where the map table sat.

“We have the ingredients for the spell,” Sam says, adding everything together in what looked like a witches cauldron and an ominous purplish hue shown from it. We head out to the coroner's office and find one of the bodies that had their souls taken out and we tip the head back and pour the liquid down the throat. From the esophagus, we could see the hue shining from under the skin and soon, another blinding light encapsulated the room. 

“How do you know if it worked?” I say, looking down to the body that seemed no different than a few moments before.  

Cass places his hand on the body’s forehead and his eyes closed. He seemed a bit bothered by something but then his expression softened and he opened his eyes again. 

“The soul is in there; I’m positive.” He says. 

 For the rest of the bodies that turned up recently without a soul, we were able to restore each one and bring some closure to the families of the victims. We contacted the families and had them come and see the newness of the bodies of their loved ones. Most people would be against this but because these bodies had been violated, family members wanted to make sure they’re loved ones were being honored as best they could. 

“Thank you for restoring my Russell,” a lady said, leaning over to kiss her deceased husband. No one could say a word but a curt nod was all that could be mustered from any of us. This is part of cases we don't get to see. We meet family but we rarely get to see much happiness after the person is gone. Who knew a soul returning to a body could do such a thing?

Back at the Bunker, I go back to check in on Y/N. She was sleeping and I couldn’t help but watch the sore and almost voided women below me. She seemed less pale then when we first got her out of the process of taking her blood for the spell but she still seemed..hollowed in some places. Like her eyes, they were pushed back into her face and her arms and legs seemed as though they didn't have any muscle. How much of her blood did we take? 

“Hey you,” she whispers, her eyes slowly moving to look up at me. I couldn’t speak and wanted so badly to kiss her but the way her eyes suddenly changed, I knew something was off. 

“You get the hell away from her,” I say, leaning away from who I thought was (y/n) but I know better. 

“Aw Dean, why can't we be friends or more since you seem to be in love with (y/n)?” I knew the voice well and just as I thought, (y/n)’s face morphed into him.

“You’re a real bag of dicks, you know that?” I say.

“Yes Dean, I’m aware of how you feel about me and I can’t believe you let this kid distract you from dealing with Daddy dearest,” 

I hold back from killing The Trickster here and now and give him an opportunity to explain himself, against my better judgment. 

“Well good ol’ Dad decided to send me to try and get you back on track. To bring something close to you to just take it away again. 

“What the hell did you do to her?” I say, growing more and more irate. 

“Oh relax, she’s fine, she’s just…tied up at the moment.” he says. 

“I swear to God I will kill you if you hurt her,” 

“Really? I think I can rearrange that since he’s my Father and all,” he says and freezes when I beg for her life again. 

“Please, don’t hurt her. She’s all Ketch has anymore.”

“Yes but you don't like him either so why does it matter what happens to (y/n)?”

“Because we all need her on our team; she’s vital to helping solve cases.”

“Are you sure it isn't more than that?” A third voice says, coming into view. 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

 “Dean?” A small voice rang out into the silence that had surrounded me in the room. I don’t know how I ended up here but I do know, it wasn’t easy. 

“Hey kiddo, you’re okay, it’s all over,” I say, looking over to her. She was much better now, away from the pain of blood being drained from her body, no longer in fear of who may be lurking around the corner. 

“What do you mean?” She asks. 

“Chuck, he's gone. Dead actually.” I say, still not fully believing it myself. 

“You killed God?” She asks, a look of disbelief playing across her delicate features

“Well, not exactly. We killed the vessel Chuck but God himself, he swore he would leave the Earth and not bother Sam or I or anyone we love ever again.

“Oh, so, he can still come back though?”

“No, he can’t. Because I….” My words fade from my vocal cords and I cannot process any thought rushing through my mind at a million miles a second. This was it, this was why I did what I did. Her. She is the reason why Chuck is dead and God is permanently leaving us alone. 

“I love you. I know it hasn’t been too long since you’ve been around us or me but I can’t help it. I love you and I want you to know that you are the reason God will leave us alone. If it wasn’t for you, we probably would still be fighting him and there wouldn’t be any peace….we’re free. Sam and I are free after all this time. We finally get to relax and be free to fight for people without having to look over our shoulders everywhere we go because I love you and he will leave us alone now because you are someone I love and….I’m free.” And for the first time in I don’t know how many years, I cried. Not just a small cry, a complete breakdown level of a cry. I guess I had years of pent up agony of having to fight and defend those whom I’ve loved finally come to a boiling point. (Y/N) did the one thing I needed in that moment, something I’ve lacked for many years; affection. She wrapped her arms around me, as tightly as she could, and held me close to her as sobs racked through my entire body. I began to shake violently and all she did was bring me in closer, run her fingers through my hair, and continuously try and shush me in that sweet, comforting way Mom’s do. I’m not sure how long we sat like that but we did until I was silent again. I slowly look up at her, through the tears still sitting in my eyes, and she runs her thumb right under my eye. 

“You okay?” She asks, looking at me in a concerning fashion. 

“I think so,” my voice was no higher than a whisper because I couldn’t trust myself. I surprised myself with the fact I cried as much as I did but I felt better. 

“I love you too,” she says suddenly. 

“You do?” I say, disbelief prominent on my face. 

“I know it isn't long either, but I do have some pull to you and I cannot deny it. You are the only reason I’m here. I love my Dad, I really do but you are the one who I get up for day and day again. You are the one who protects me like no other. You are the one I want to keep giving blood away for whatever spells or anything else you need. I love your smile, your eyes, your laugh, the way you grumble about anything and everything because you’re getting older but it just melts my heart and I’ve never felt this for anyone.”

It may have seemed like a rather chick flick movie thing for me to do, and believe me, I kicked myself for it, but I couldn’t help it; I had to kiss her. Because for once, someone loved me and there was no way I was going to lose her. Well, aside from the traditional ways of losing someone but there wouldn’t be a douche who tries to take her away, which is way better anyways. Her lips felt so soft and natural when she kissed me and all I wanted to do was kiss her from now on. Who am I turning into? Maybe I’m finally able to learn what its like to care about someone and have someone care for me when in the past, we would have never gotten together or even thought about it but things with Ketch have been different and he hasn’t been after us too much since Chuck started. Now, I somehow ended up falling for his daughter. 

“Oh, shit, damn it,” I say, pulling back from our kiss.

“What’s wrong?” She says. “I’m sure you’ve done this before,” she jokes. 

“No, I mean yes of course but, you.” I say. 

“Me?” 

“You’re Ketch’s daughter.”

“We’ll he’s my adopted Dad,” she comments. 

“Yeah but he still raised you. What is he going to think of this, of us?” I say, motioning between us. 

“He won’t care.”

“Are you sure? I mean we've been fighting with him for years and we just got him on our side.” 

“Dean, you’re overreacting. He just wants my happiness. He’s just going to have to deal with it being with you,” she says.

“Fine, then I say we need to tell him and everyone else about us before anything else happens between us.”

She suddenly gets up from where we were sitting in the common room and I jump up to follow her.  

“Where are we going?” I say when I catch up with her. 

“To tell my Dad.”

“Really?” I ask, not believing she wants to do this now but she stops and grabs my face and kisses me, for a long time. 

“Really,” She says after she lets me breathe again.

I follow her into the other room where we see Sam and Ketch at the map table, Sam with a book in his hands and Ketch scrolling through his phone.

“Dad?” (Y/N) says when we are in hearing distance.

“Yeah sweetheart?” Ketch responds, looking up from his phone.

“I’m in love with Dean,” she says with such ease, it brings a smile to my face.

“Oh I know,” he says and goes back to his phone.

“Wait, you know? How?” I ask.

“Because, I see the way you look at her, Dean. And (y/n), I heard you talking to Sam about it.”

“Wait, Sammy, you knew how she felt about me?”

“Yes,”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.

“She asked me not to,” he says.

“So you’re okay with this?” (Y/N) asks Ketch. 

“If he makes you happy, then I’m okay with it.” 

“But you hurt her Dean and I swear,” Ketch threatens me. 

“Don’t worry man, I couldn’t hurt her. She’s the best thing that ever came out of a perfect storm.” 

[regular-lord-reckoner]

well, what a week this has been !!

our downstairs ac unit and our water heater decided to tear up at the exact same time !!

so, i spent a good chunk of yesterday just cleaning out the space to get the water heater so my mom wouldn't have to do any of it later

that was one good thing about it being 59 degrees down there! the upstairs one still works just fine but like....hot air rises so i even double checked, but yeah, 70 degrees with the fan on and it didn't do a damn thing for the downstairs so

anyway

i got it all cleared out and a plumber is supposed to be on his way now. he had some emergency cases come up but said he still wanted to come check it out.

my dad had told my mom that the water heater was going to go soon, so we kinda figured. i have taken two...very cold showers this week but it's all good. made the pink stay in my hair longer so there's that

had therapy after that but it was a good session so that was nice. she said i was doing better than i was a year ago and i guess i can see that. even a little bit of progress is still progress and even if i'm the only one that sees it

mostly what i've been dealing with is just...exhaustion. with all this wacky thermostat shit there have been so many nights the aux heat has kicked on downstairs and made it insufferable upstairs so i wake up at like 4 am and just can't get back to sleep

i've been working 50 hour weeks pretty much nonstop for months now but i'm trying to at least not get so stressed during the work day, especially when doing chores eats up all my time like it did yesterday

i ended up having to do all the work i was supposed to do yesterday today which ended up taking all day but i just took my time for the most part and tried not to get too overwhelmed for no good reason

good news, though!! i got it all done. i've been trying to help out my mom more since this whole neck/arm situation started a few weeks ago. i hate that she's been in pain for so long and we still don't really have any concrete answers.

her pcp just wanted to talk about other shit besides this injury but she did at least order an mri which i'm going with her to get done tomorrow so hopefully that'll give us some answers or at least figure out what to do next.

she's been able to get some relief but not entirely and it's also been causing her to lose sleep so we're a pretty sad bunch by the end of every week the pair of us but we're pulling through !!

in the mean time, someone did come out earlier about the ac and i think it ended up being something about the compressor? they'll have to order a part so it'll be sometime next week but i think the weather is supposed to get warmer then so if it takes a minute i think we'll be okay because i can then at least run the cool air upstairs and it should be fine downstairs

mom's keeping warm by the fireplace and has a heated blanket as well and she said at night she can run a little heater in her room and it works just fine so we'll be okay with that and i can take more cold showers if need be especially if it does heat up that's no problem

wild how the other day it started out 70 damn degrees and humid as shit and then it rained and dropped down to 40 degrees immediately

can't wait to see what kinda interesting spring weather we're about to have. also can't believe it's already march holy shit

the way i'm perceiving time these days is just completely and utterly fucked so that seems especially unreal to me

alright, i think i've rambled enough for now and i've typed a lot today so i'm going to give my fingers a rest (lol) and just scroll for a while, turn this old brain off as best as i can even though it never goes off completely

hope it's a good weekend for you if you're reading this, even if you have to work or have some other bullshit you don't want to do. try to get some rest somewhere in there and so will i <3

ps: plumber just got here !!