#i put SO MUCH caulking on it this time

[naomiknight-17]

Hubby Jon fixed the hallway desk today (it was wall-mounted and the screws on the right were loose, he put in drywall plugs and reinforced it all) and just now we worked together to try to seal the drain cover in the floor.

Not like, seal it so water can't go through, but seal it so the cats can't pull the cover off and stick their heads down the drain like the idiots they are

Fingers crossed that it holds this time - last time we tried to seal it the cats had the cover ripped off again within an hour of being allowed near it T__T

[andersonfilms]

firefighter!abby who comes in every sunday morning to your floral shop, tucked in a tiny corner downtown. you’re usually tucked away in the back, doing floral arrangements, calculating your inventory, organizing new shipments, or just avoiding others in general. an introverted nature is ingrained into your bones. so, dina takes over the front counter. she’s sweet, kind enough to engage in conversation. big brown eyes and welcoming smile always seeming to put the customer’s at ease, assessing their needs as they step foot in the door. 

firefighter!abby who comes in on the dot, half-past nine, right before her shift. her build, incredibly tone, clad in black cargos and her seattle fire department t-shirt tucked in. she greets dina with her blinding, pearly white smile. warming her up to the core as dina grabs the assortment that’s ordered every week. yellow roses, white lillies, and peach carnations make their way into the abby’s hands. she thanks dina, with the same somber look in her eyes before she exits with the same bouquet she always does. 

firefighter!abby who is out for the day, cup of coffee in her hand, ellie to her right telling her about the black-haired beauty she met at the local pub. swearing up and down there was a cute friend, supposedly, but it really just sounds like this is her only way in which her friend needs to enlist help from the hunky-blonde for assistance. 

“So, let me get this straight. You met this girl—” 

“Dina.” Abby pauses, blonde eyebrows quirk upwards. “Wait, does she work at a floral shop?” 

“Yes—” Ellie pauses, envy swirling in her emerald eyes immediately, “Fuck, Anderson, do not tell me you’ve fucked her!” 

Abby smirks, wanting to tease her spunky friend. “C’mon, are you fucking serious? No. Shit. Did you really fuck her?” Abby winks as she takes a sip of her black coffee, bicep flexing in the process. 

“Dude. How the hell am I supposed to compete with your greek god  fucking biceps?” Ellie lifts up the sleeve of her shirt, comparing her much smaller arms to Abby’s very toned and thick muscle. Even Abby’s veins are more prominent than hers. 

Abby giggles, “First off, you can’t but you don’t have to…this time. I just buy flowers from there and everyone kinda knows everyone. It’s Jackson.” 

“Oh, thank god. You had me worried there for a second. Jesus.” Ellie nudges her shoulder, picking at her naibeds anxiously. “So, will you come so you can meet her friend?” 

Abby thinks for a moment. How bad could it be? It’s just one night, right? 

firefighter!abby who comes to the flower shop on a saturday this time. the doorbell rings signaling her entrance, but she doesn’t find dina working the counter like she normally does. you’re someone new, someone she hasn’t seen before, someone beautiful. so much so, she feels as if her feet have been glued to the hardwood floors. dear god, she looks like a goddamn idiot. she’s thankful you’re helping someone as abby tries to break from her caulking spell. 

firefighter!abby who takes note of how attentive you are with the customers even if your body fidgets as you help them but then you smile, it makes her melt. anderson, get yourself together, you have a date tonight. it’s just one, incredibly beautiful girl. you’re fine. she’s fine. before her brain can make one more stupid thought, you’re walking up to her. 

You smell of lavender, it coats Abby’s senses as you make a beeline for her. It could be the shop or it could be you. She believes it’s you. 

“Afternoon, is there something I can help you with?” You ask, Abby reads the name tag on your chest and musters up somewhat of a coherent sentence. You start making the arrangement for her, it’s then she notices how familiar it is. 

It isn’t the flowers she typically chooses, the one she orders through the website of the shop, but the craftsmanship is identical. Down to the yellow ribbon to wrap it neatly, keeping the specially made bouquet in place. 

Abby’s blue eyes must light up with wonder because you smile, it's soft as it slips out of you, too quick for you to hide behind the wall you usually keep yourself within. 

“Um, you make all the arrangements here, right?” Anxiously, you dust your hands on the maroon apron tied around your waist. 

“Yeah, I would hope so. It’s my shop.” You’re not boastful about it, or snarky, it’s sweet. As if you’re proud and you should be. 

“Oh, sorry! I hope you don’t take it the wrong way. I just, um—” Speak blondie, you’re making a fool of yourself. “ I come here every week and have just never seen you before s’all. It’s nice to match the wonderful shop to the even prettier owner.” 

Abby wonders why she doesn’t ask for your number or even try to. She’s not exactly a stranger to beautiful women. When she knows what she wants, she’s like a dog with a bone. Never has she ever halted, or had someone stop her dead in her tracks without even trying. 

In her mind, she’s finding excuses. It’s the sun’s fault for letting the light hit your eyes perfectly, saturating the color even further. Or the way she obsesses over your curves, or the joy seeming to radiate every time you smile. 

It can’t be any of those little things. 

Abby fishes for the wallet in her jacket pocket, before handing you her card, you finalize the transaction before handing the silver card back to her. Calloused fingertips press against yours, much softer than Abby’s, but it excites the two of you. 

Not that either of you spoke a word of it. 

“You’re girlfriend’s a lucky girl. It’s a thoughtful gesture—” but your eyes build a fright in them, a horror that you can’t take back. “I’m sorry! Oh my god. I didn’t mean to just, fuck, assume you had a girlfriend or that you’re into girls. Jesus, I don’t know what came over me. God.” 

Abby bites down a smirk as you anxiously beat your nail on the countertop as if you ruined the interaction. Impatiently needing this to be over. 

“S’okay, really, you didn’t assume wrong.” Mischievous pools of blue look you up and down, pointed canines kissing her pink lips as they bite at the flesh. 

“I don’t have a girlfriend. Well—” Abby leans over placing her palm against yours, her fingertips linger on your skin, setting it ablaze. Releasing your grip of the bouquet and palming the wrapped flowers in her firm grasp.

“Not yet.” 

lmk what you think! hope you enjoyed it! ♡

[bunnyrafe]

hi just wanted to say blue collar!rafe is my absolute favorite thing rn. babydoll and his dynamic is complete perfection.

i know you said they were high school sweethearts (which is 🥰😍) well, i was wondering how he proposed to babydoll.

thank you so much, pretty girl !!! and thank you for giving me a chance to expand on their lore. love them so bad…

rafe always told you he was going to marry you, only giving your (at the time) teenage brain so many ideas for the fairytale wedding you two would surely have— he promised.

but you had college. something your parents had pressured you into despite you screaming and yelling about how your rafey was going to take care of everything. you didn’t need a career, not when you knew rafe would make enough money and then some building houses. he’d do a hell of a lot more than just put food on the table… but it didn’t matter. you were packing your bags for school that following summer.

so rafe visited you every weekend. jeans sometimes covered in paint and caulk, hands so rough but so reassuring all at once as you snuck him into your dorm, shushing him the entire time as if he could help how loud his work boots sounded in those stupid hallways.

“hey, i— i got y’somethin…” he says, closing your door behind him and meeting your grin with one of his own.

you don’t even notice him pulling the velvet box out of his pocket until he drops down on one knee, making you gasp and immediately cover your mouth. “rafe—” you squeak his name out into your hands.

“always told ya i would, didn’t i?”

[archangeldyke-all]

hi hi hii sweetheart. Oh my lord. Your writing is literally so good, you honestly deserve the best, mind blowing, legs shaking, knees bucking, cant even talk orgasm. I'm so sorry. someone had to say ittttt. But I was wonderingggg😋 could you maybe do a drabble with reader and sevika are selling their house because maybe they have a little fucker on the way and they need more room, so they are goin through the house one last time and sevika starts js randomly naming out all her favorite times they have had sex in each place of the house...and she recalls like Hella details not even reader remembers. (Reader has pregnant mush-brain.) But could sevika be like..."wanna find a place we haven't fucked before..?" AND ITS LIKE THE HARDEST THING TO FIND BECAUSE THEY HAVE LITERALLY DONE IT EVERYDAY. But they end up finding a spot and sevika gives reader defo on the top 10 best sex they have had in that house. Could sevika maybe have a penis or even js her strap on in this...?:3 ANYWAY I WOULD LOVE THIS BUT IF YOU CANT DO IT ITS OKAY TOO!! I love you so so much your writings literally amazing!!!

this is so cute i love it!! (and thank u so much, i'm so glad u like my stuff eeek!!<3)

men and minors dni

you should probably be feeling a little more sentimental and sad about leaving behind the house you and sevika have been living in for seven years now.

these four walls have been your home through some of the best days of your life: meeting sevika, marrying sevika, realizing you're pregnant with sevika's baby-- it all happened here. you guys built your lives together here, and overtime, they became so intertwined and connected that you've become a 'we' rather than a 'me.'

but in all honesty-- you're thrilled to be leaving.

you hate this house. the floors are slanted, the roof is leaky, the windows aren't weatherproofed, so it's freezing in the winter and boiling in the summer. you haven't been able to take a bath in the tub for three years now because there's cracks in the caulk and any water above an inch deep starts to flood the bathroom. it's a shitty house, and you've been wanting to leave for years.

sevika's always been the one to convince. it's not that she loves your house, it's that she doesn't want to put the effort into finding a new one. but, upon the two of you finding out that your family will be growing in a few short months, sevika finally relented.

and now, just ten minutes down the street from this place, you've bought a beautiful family home, big enough for the two of you, your future baby, and whatever other family members (both human and animal) that might spawn in the future.

your inspector gave it an A+, the yard is spacious, the floors are level, there's not just one, but three bathtubs,-- and the one in the main en-suite is like a hot tub-- big enough for you and your wife to fit and lounge. you're so fucking excited to move in, that you're not even a little sad to leave behind the old space.

sevika's been eyeing you with worry all day as she lugs boxes and furniture to the moving van. she's waiting for your pregnancy hormones to hit you and for you to become a blubbering mess at the thought of leaving behind your place. you can't blame her, your pregnancy hormones can and have turned you into a puddle of tears over much less. just last night you cried for thirty minutes because one of the celery stalks in the bunch you'd bought was wilted, and all his celery friends were still green and healthy, going on living without him.

but, really, you're fine.

she's not buying it.

"sevika, for the last fucking time, i'm okay!" you groan. the house is mostly empty now, just a few boxes and some lamps left. sevika's taking a snack break, one of her arms wrapped around you as she looks at you with concern.

"i'm just saying babe, we can't come back after tonight, so if you need any, like, sentimental pictures, or a good cry--"

"oh my god!" you laugh, elbowing her. "sevika, i'm okay, really. i'm so fucking excited to go, i'm so excited for our future. i'll cherish the memories this place gave us forever, but i don't really care about the place itself." you shrug.

sevika studies you carefully, and then she pouts a bit. "it doesn't make you a little sad?" she asks. you raise your eyebrow, surprised to hear your usually-so-stoic wife is feeling ...sentimental?

"what makes me sad?"

"babe, this house is the first place we ever fucked in!" she whines. you burst into laughter. sevika points to the empty bedroom behind her. "you're not sad to leave that room behind? after all the times i fucked you into incoherence in there?" she asks, her eyes wide and sparkly like she's actually a little emotional. you can't stop laughing as you reach up to cup your wife's cheek.

"honey, you're gonna be fucking me into incoherence for the rest of our lives." you remind her. sevika smiles a bit at this.

"yeah, but... we had so many good times in this house." she sighs wistfully. you chuckle, pecking her cheek.

"we did. remember when you dented the drywall with the headboard?" you ask. sevika giggles a bit, her gaze snapping back down to yours, her hand reaching around your body to start gently stroking your ever-growing belly.

"'course i remember, i had to plaster it back up myself." she chuckles. "remember when we almost started a fire when we were getting kinky with the wax?" she asks. you blink up at her, drawing a blank and pouting.

"no." you whine. "tell me, it sounds hot." you demand. your pregnancy's been blessedly healthy, but the one symptom that's hit you hard is your baby-brain. sometimes, you're just total mush in the head. sevika's been patient and kind each time. right now, she just smiles salaciously at you and presses you against the counter.

"you don't remember?" she asks. "our second anniversary, we wanted to try wax play? you got the special lotion candles and everything, wore those pretty lacy panties i ruined last year on your birthday, and i let you tie my hands up." you smile, the memory slowly coming back to you, heat building between your legs as she speaks. "anyways... it was goin' real good until i kicked over an unattended candle." she whispers.

you break into laughter-- the memory suddenly flooding back to you. "shit, i miss that blanket." you snort, remembering the way the comforter seemingly spontaneously combusted.

"you were screaming as you tried to pat out the fire, and i was tied to the fucking bed that was goin' up in flames-- i thought i was gonna fuckin' die." sevika cackles.

you snort, and kiss her cheek. "i saved you, though." you brag. she laughs.

"yeah, you did."

"c'mon, tell me another." you demand.

sevika raises an eyebrow. "another what?"

"another sex memory." you say. sevika giggles. "they're all fresh and new to me, i like remembering how fun and hot we are."

"hmm..." sevika thinks, her eyes darting around the house. she snatches your wrist and drags you to the bathroom. "i'm still pretty convinced i got you knocked up in here six months ago."

"which time?" you ask. sevika smirks, kissing your cheek and pinching your ass.

"exactly." she teases. you snort. "no, but for real, there was this one time-- i'd just finished my workout and you'd had a big glass of 'shower wine'" sevika puts this in air-quotes, teasing the habit you indulge in each night, "and i fucked you against the sink so good that you had to get right back in the shower once i was done with you. fuck, i came my fucking brains out, honey, i couldn't speak for like ten minutes afterwards." your thighs clench a bit at the memory, your stomach bursting into butterflies at the way sevika's voice has gotten all heavy. her eyes are dark when she looks over at you. "and then, boom. two weeks later you're pregnant." she says, grinning.

you giggle. "you think that was the one, huh?" you ask. she nods.

"what's your theory?"

"i always thought it happened when you fucked me on the couch while we were watching that stupid cop-buddy movie." you say. sevika laughs.

"so you remember that-- a lazy, unromantic fuck after a long weekend of both of us lounging and not showering-- but you don't remember the good ones?" she asks. you just giggle and shrug again.

"they're all good ones with you, baby." you say. sevika's teasing look melts away, something needier taking it's place. you know what she's going to ask for, so you speak before she can. "you think there's a place in the house we haven't fucked?" you ask.

sevika blinks, considering it for a second. "i dunno."

"i wouldn't wanna leave the house with a room un-fucked in, sev, that would be a real shame."

"fuck, it really would, wouldn't it?" she asks. you snort and nod.

"so?" you ask. "you think we've checked all the boxes or can you think of a place we might need to--"

"the attic. you think you can crawl up there in your state?" she inturrupts you, rubbing your stomach as she eyes the little hatch in the ceiling of the hall. you burst into laughter.

"the attic!?"

"c'mon!" she laughs, jumping up and grabbing the string, pulling the stairs down. "you go first, i'll catch you if you fall. she says, steadying your hips as she walks you up the first few steep steps. you can't stop laughing as your wife basically herds you up into the attic.

you've never been up here, execpt for the few times you've had to put a pot down during a rain storm to stop the leaks from coming down into your home. it's dingy and dusty, and you can't even stand up straight-- you have to crawl to the end of the small storage space so sevika can fit up beside you.

she seems just as disgruntled with her choice as you are, but she's determined to make it work, quickly stripping herself of her shirt and laying it down behind you as a blanket. you giggle. "lay down." she requests, holding the back of your head as you lower yourself down so you don't bonk it on any beams or bars.

you can't see her like this. you're flat on your back, and your stomach is huge. you don't know what she's planning, so it's a shock when sevika starts tugging at your pants.

you burst into giggles, lifting your hips up to help her. "what's your plan here, babe?" you ask as she starts kissing your bare legs.

she hums against your thigh, considering your question. she trails a hand up your thigh, teasing your cunt with a feather-light touch, before lifting her mouth from your leg to speak.

"'m gonna get you knocked up again." she says.

you burst into laughter, and you can see sevika lift up from between your legs to admire your smile. you grin down at her, and widen your legs. "give it your best shot, baby." you choke out between laughs.

sevika, grins, and then ducks back down to disappear beneath your tummy and bury her face in your cunt.

fuck, you're horny. the baby's been giving you crazy hormones, and while sometimes that means you can cry at sad celery, other times it means you're so insanely horny you could cum from a strong breeze.

"oh, fuck, baby!" you cry as sevika buries her tongue inside of you. she hums, reaching up to start working her fingers in the mix.

"gonna cum already?" she grunts before ducking back down and sucking your clit. you smack your hand against the dusty floor beneath you-- too round to reach down and tug her hair like you want to.

"fuck, 'm gonna cum all over your fuckin' face, sev." you whine, your brain turning to mush as you get closer. she groans against you at your words, and you take it as a sign to just let your mouth run. "'y feel so fuckin' good, 'y fuck me so good, shit, sevika, sev!" you scream as you cum.

before you can even ride out the first wave of your high, sevika's jumping on top of you to mount you so quickly that her head smacks against one of the low hanging beams in front of you.

you gasp-- still cumming and horrified at the loud "SMACK!" that rings out as you watch your wife's head collide with the beam-- then you burst into pitying, whiny giggles as sevika curses.

"shit!" she groans, reaching up to hold her forehead. you reach up to cup her face, laughing and shivering and somehow still cumming.

"are you okay?" you giggle, pulling her down to kiss the bruise already forming on her forehead. she grunts.

"i'm fine."

"liar." you giggle. you tilt her head from side to side, giving her pupils a good look as a half-assed concussion exam. "poor baby. need me to take you to the urgent care? see if you got a concussion?"

"i'm fine. just need to put my dick in you." she grunts.

you laugh, but shut your legs before she can sink into you. she huffs and glares up at you, and you pinch her chin. "remind me to check you out for real once we're done, okay?" you ask. she nods. you glare at her, knowing she won't. "sevika, you're my brain until the baby comes, i don't care if you don't want me to remember, you really gotta remind me. if you have a concussion and die because i let you fuck me instead of taking you to the hospital-- how am i supposed to explain that to the baby?" you ask.

sevika groans. "okay! okay! i know! ''re you gonna lemme fuck you or what?" she asks.

you pucker your lips, and sevika's annoyance melts as she swoops down to kiss you. you hum happily and open your legs, smiling up at your wife. "okay." you agree. sevika grins, and then she sinks into you with one smooth thrust.

you both gasp, your open mouths just a breath apart from each other as sevika starts to work her hips against yours. "fuck." you whine. sevika smirks down at you.

"fuck." she agrees.

your thighs are shaking-- her cock fills you up perfectly, like she's made for you, made for stretching you just right. each of her thrusts is accompanied by a wet smack, and you bury your face against sevika's shoulder in embarrassment as the wet sounds grow louder. she chuckles.

"you've been fuckin' leaky since i knocked you up. your cunt's so fuckin' needy, isn't it? already put a baby in it and it's just droolin' for more." she grunts against your ear. you cum the second the words leave her mouth, your nails sinking into her shoulders as you shake apart. sevika grins down at you. "fuck, it's so fuckin' cute how easy you are when you're carryin' my kid. i just put it in babe, you're already cumming?" she teases again.

you bite her neck, relishing in the way her breath hitches as you try to collect yourself, then hiking your leg up over her hips and gripping her hair in your hands. "it's your fault." you whimper as you try to catch your breath. "you knocked me up 'n now i'm fuckin' stupid and horny and-- and you feel so good." you whine.

sevika shivers on top of you, and you tug her hair harder.

"'m yours, baby." you whimper. "all yours."

that's the final nail in the coffin-- sevika screams a "fuck!" as she cums at your words. you grin, clenching around her cock and giggling at the way her arms nearly give out beneath her. "you're an evil woman." she sighs appreciatively. "i love you so much."

you laugh, and sevika ducks down to kiss your exposed neck. "'m your evil woman." sevika's dick makes one more feeble twitch inside of you at your words, the reminder that you're hers. you giggle in delight at the feeling.

"damn right you are." she mumbles, grinning.

you sigh as the euphoria of your orgasms wears off and the hard floor beneath you starts to kick in. "you might need to carry me back down the attic steps."

sevika bursts into giggles. "you might need to take me to the hospital. i can't tell if i'm seeing stars because i just came so hard or if it's a concussion."

you groan, and sevika muffles her giggles against your neck.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352 @artinvain

[scarlettohairdye]

Home Ownership Was a Mistake

This is for @trickybonmot, who may or may not use some of these stories in a fic.

Okay. So.

In the year of our lord 2010, my wife and I were lucky enough to be gifted $20k by my parents, which in those days (given it was a historically low point for real estate prices in Seattle) was enough for a down payment on a house. It was an astounding confluence of luck and privilege that led to us being homeowners, because if they gave us the same money now it would go precisely nowhere.

Anyway, it was not enough money for a large house, or a fancy house. We looked at a lot of places, only some of which were move-in ready (and one of which was absolutely just a tear-down) and eventually settled on our current place, which is a 1910 bungalow with a detached garage that was finished and turned into a studio.

Was it the most aesthetically pleasing house when we bought it? No. The walls were white, the carpet was light beige, and the paint had seen better days. That said, it was move-in ready and the owner was pretty desperate to sell, so we took it!

The inspector let us know that some of the wiring was still the old knob-and-tube, so we'd want that updated sooner rather than later, but it looked pretty good. About half the outlets were grounded, so it didn't stop us from plugging in three-prong appliances. We just had to use more extension cords than maybe we'd prefer.

The Electrical

The first big house thing we paid for was to have the entire place rewired. Our circuit breaker was a mystery, we didn't have enough outlets, and we were tired of being stuck with specific layouts of our stuff due to the lack of grounded outlets. We were expecting about half the wiring to be up to code, and the rest would need an update.

Spoiler alert: HAHAHAHAHAHA.

The rewiring took about a week, and every morning the electrician sat down with us and told us what new fire trap he'd uncovered.

"Yeah, so the knob and tube wiring going to the lights in the ceiling? Knob and tube gets hot when it's running, and yours is under three layers of insulation."

"You know how you thought your outlets were grounded? They weren't, actually, the ground wire just went elsewhere into the house and wasn't connected to anything."

"So there's wiring in your crawlspace? Whoever put that in nailed some sheets of wood paneling over it, so we had to rip the wood paneling out to access it."

I think the job was about $15k when it was done, we had many many more outlets, and our house was no longer one bad day from lighting itself on fire. Victory, I guess?

The Studio Window

This was leaking a bit, and we knew it was leaking when we moved in. (South facing walls get all the weather in our region.) We were not handy enough to replace it ourselves at the time and we also didn't have money because I got laid off shortly after we bought the house and was making my living doing costume commissions. Solution: Trade costuming work to an acquaintance who did carpentry.

The window, we discovered, was not so much a finished window as it was a single sheet of glass sandwiched between some boards.

Badly.

The carpenter was not entirely she that she was qualified for the job, but she did manage to remove the single sheet of glass and replace it with a window that was insulated and actually capable of opening. She used caulk around it. It was way better than we had before. Maybe someday we'll have both studio windows replaced by a contractor who actually does windows, but this is not that day!

The Siding

The cedar shingles were no longer cutting it at a certain point, so we had the house resided. (Houses are money pits, in case you didn't know.) This was a $30k job (MONEY PIT!) and had several layers of badness.

Bad: Our house had no insulation. It was cedar shingles over the original siding, with nothing in between that original siding and our INTERIOR WALLS. There was occasionally a newspaper. Our PM asked if we wanted insulation? And we said yes, please!!! We did not have a lot of time to think about insulation or research the best type, so it's just sheets of the pink fiberglass stuff in there, but it exists and we have it now!

Worse: Underneath our laundry room was a horrorshow. The laundry room is an addition that was added to our house probably sometime in the 50s? And, uh...

Well, the siding guys pulled off the siding, took a look at what was under it, and immediately called the project manager. The project manager came out, took a look, and then called us. He said that the siding guys thought it really needed to be reinforced and stabilized before they re-sided it, which is very fair, because I think the people who built it originally were drunk when they did it. It was a fucking Wild West cowboy construction situation under there.

Yes, you heard that right: A LOAD-BEARING SHINGLE.

Our project manager also informed us that the siding guys couldn't do the reinforcement, because they're just siding guys. They don't do structural. This is very fair.

It also needed to be done by Monday so we could stay on schedule for the siding work.

We learned this on Friday.

I immediately called my general contractor dad and got his voicemail, because (I remembered belatedly) he was in Mexico getting dental surgery. There was absolutely no way we could get another contractor out to do the work over a single weekend.

It was up to us.

My wife and I (mostly my wife) went HAM on it. We rented big jacks from the tool library to prop the laundry room up while we replaced one of the entirely rotten support poles. One of the big telephone poles was so wrecked with dry rot we could kick it out of place. (It didn't even touch the BIG ROCK that was supposed to be its foundation!!! It was floating!!!) Several of the joists were also fucked, so we ran new joists alongside them and married them together. My wife dug holes while crouched in a 4' high space, filled the holes with gravel, compacted it by putting a piece of wood on top of it and hitting it with a mallet, and then installed an entire additional support system from 4x4s and deck blocks. She actually attached the support system TO THE FUCKING HOUSE, which was a big improvement from the way it was originally held on by vibes and paint.

Here's a tasty little before and after:

(Yeah, see how that visible joist at the front just... stops at the far left? There's a new joist right behind it now.)

This was completed with resounding cries of, "Good enough!" and "It's better than it was before!" The siding guys thought it was fine and sided over it. Someday hopefully we will be able to afford to tear the whole thing down and rebuild it with a properly poured foundation, but in the meantime the spin cycle on the washing machine no longer shakes the whole house. Victory?!

Ridiculous: The purple paint saga. My wife and I are lesbians who tend toward maximalism in our decoration style. Construction companies find this baffling. We paid extra to our siding company to get the extended color choices (if you order the siding with the color baked in it lasts longer, but you're limited to a particular range of colors) and spoiler alert: 90% of them are boring as fuck. We basically paid extra to have access to 400 shades of white and 400 more shades of beige. There were like three saturated colors in the whole book. Pathetic.

Anyway, we chose the one nice teal that was available and decided we'd paint the door purple, since all the purple colors were gray at best. The project manager then forgot to put in our order, and when he remembered he'd forgotten, ordering our siding through his company would have pushed back the start time by six weeks. We could still make the original start time if we ordered through a different company doing the same thing, though!

Me, immediately: And we wouldn't be restricted to your color palette, right? Him: Yeah, they can do custom colors. Me, slapping down a color card called "Fully Purple": MAKE IT PURPLE.

Bless this man, he went to the siding company and asked for Fully Purple. They told him they couldn't do that color, and also is he sure anyone wants this color? He called them on the phone and informed them yes, we did want that color, and also that he'd worked for them and he knew damn well they could do that color, they'd just have to custom mix it, so they needed to do their fucking jobs. Suitably chastened, they finally sent us a sample of the siding, and it was... okay. It was purple for sure, but a little de-saturated. Not the purple of our hearts.

I asked if they'd actually started manufacturing our siding yet or just sent the color sample. The project manager confirmed they hadn't, and if we ordered this imperfectly-purple siding now, it would be several weeks before we could get started.

"We're gonna paint," I decided, and our project manager put in the orders.

The paint store called him and said, "Hey, are you sure you want this color?" Yes, he assured them, that's the right color.

The guys doing the painting opened up the can and then called him and said, "Are you sure this color?" and he told them yes! They want that color!

At this point I told him he should just start responding with, "They're lesbians!!! Yes! They want the purple! They're lesbians!!!"

Eventually we cleared every hurdle god and the construction industry put in front of us, and now our house is Fully Purple.

It also has insulation, wiring that won't kill us, and a laundry room that hopefully won't collapse anytime soon. We got a heat pump installed that took shockingly little time and worked immediately, and our next project will be having the roof redone. Check back in to find out what fresh horror awaits us then! I think it'll be a second roof under our existing roof made of lead and asbestos tiles, probably!

[pippenpaddlopsicopolisthethird]

Next step on Laios's armor: edges! This is a detail that's visible in the original design on the bracers and the top edge of the collar. I'm using regular 2mm craft foam with slight angle-cut edges to add some dimension to different areas of the armor.

It takes so long to cut the little pieces of foam to a perfect fit with all these little mitered corners on the bracers.

Extant examples and modern construction guides point to a "rolled" edge as a sign of good craftsmanship. Putting aside the carved ornamentation, rolled edges are visible on both this adult and child armor.

After gluing on the craft foam edges, I'll go around each edge with Kwik Seal flexible caulk to make the foam edges look seamless and blended together with the base foam. I have so much of this still left to do, which all has to be finished before I do anything else like adding battle damage, priming, texturing, painting, and weathering. I want it all to look really clean, so I can't skip these steps.

Anyway this is all to give some context for how I told my friends on discord that I spent all night working on edging Laios and I still wouldn't have time for caulk

[its-in-the-woods]

Coyote Head - Part 7 - Bloodied Kiss

master list

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean 

Includes many other characters from Fallout

Synopsis: The nightmares are finally catching up to Lucy.

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning:  Animal/people death, Blood, Gore, Body Horror,Violence, Nightmares, Monsters, Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Older Man/Younger Woman

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. So you have been warned. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

*Mind the tags

*This had been clawing at my mind for dayssssss I needed to post it early or I was going to explode

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As the dust of the car faded, Lucy felt her shoulders drop, it was barely past mid-day and she was already feeling worn out. She was proud of herself, for not backing down and holding her ground. Max had been the first boy she’d really fallen for, and it sucked it had ended the way it did. It was time for her to move forward, to let that part of her life go. Move onto what was coming next for her, hopefully, something that won’t end as tragic.

Lucy turned to her two companions as they started to move, happy that they had stood at her back despite having no idea what was going on. She gave a weak smile at the two, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of dread.  

“Ya’doing okay?” Cooper asks as he moves towards her, the way the afternoon sun shone on his skin making her heart speed up. Her eyes unabashedly went over his body, the man was well-toned. The day-to-day work is evident on the hard lines of his muscles covering him; a crooked grin on his face when Lucy finally catches her eyes. 

Lucy glances away, as Dane grins at her, “Yeah, just, wasn’t expecting him to show up. Ever.”

“Well, shirtless. Could I get a hand movin’ some stuff around to get the mower.” Dane chuckles, Cooper smirking at the comment, the tips of his ears going pink. Lucy smiling at the two ribbing each other.

“Yeah, I can help the greasemonkey,” Cooper throws back, with raised eyebrows. “Shirt got wet. But pipes should be fine.” He said just loud enough for them to hear.

“Sure it did,” Dane rolls their eyes as turning to head to the other shed. Cooper gives them a sideways glance before following, a smile on his lips as he looks back at Lucy.

“I will go turn the water back on for the house,” Lucy chirps, her face was going to be stained beet red at this point. She was feeling happy that she had friends like these.

***

Lucy is once again sitting on the counter, the pipes are now running without leaks. Cooper had actually laid in water, which had given Lucy an excuse to toss his shirt into the dryer. She’d take any excuse to see the man move around her home and property shirtless. Dane had teased him endlessly about it much to Lucy’s amusement. Dane had taken off about an hour ago with the promise to come back on Monday to continue the work. Lucy had half a mind to figure out how to keep them on a more permanent basis. Something she’d run by Harris, see if it was worth doing, and if Dane wanted to stay of course. 

Cooper walks in, putting the caulking gun down beside the sink. He’d decide after finishing the pipe to fix up several issues around the sink. Lucy was positive she could have figured it out but Cooper was insistent. Really who was she to refuse the offer from a shirtless cowboy in her kitchen. She hands him a beer, he pops the top off with a ring on his middle finger. Lucy adds that to the list of things she found way too hot. 

“I can make up some dinner?” Lucy offers, she was pretty sure she could find something worth eating in the freezer. She also needed to make sure that she got Cooper some tallow too.

Cooper leans against the counter right beside her, taking a sip of the beer. Lucy can’t help but watch how he drinks it. “If ya don’t mind. Grandparents are taking the kidlets to d’pool and pizza after. Figured, we’re going to have a long day. ”

Lucy couldn’t help the smile that crosses her face, liking the idea of the two of them having an evening just for them. “Were you planning something, Cooper?”

Cooper’s sliding over so that he was leaning against Lucy, “Well, I was goin’ to ask ya out Ms. MacLean, but ya kinda jumped me.”

Lucy's head tipping back in a laugh, taking another sip of her beer. The two of them looked the other over, her eyes trying to memorize the way he looked out of his shirt.  “I don’t seem to remember you complaining,”

The man puts his beer down shifting so he is standing in front of Lucy, she swallows under his gaze. He leans forward putting a bare arm on either side of her, eyes wandering up her body, their face just inches from each other. Lucy’s breath catches in her chest as his hazel eyes stare into hers. 

“M’no, I certainly didn’t.” Cooper hushes, leaning forward to kiss her again. Lucy can’t help the little whine that escapes as she pushes back against him. Her hands ran up his arms, feeling his muscles twitch under the attention. He tastes so good, their tongues finding the other as they pull each other closer.

Her hands come up to cup his face, his hands resting on her thighs, fingers gripping against the flesh there. Lucy lets her legs open so that Cooper can move closer to her. He breaks the kiss, moving down along her jaw, small kisses down her neck. Lucy whimpers as he licks down her neck, his large hands rucking up her shirt. The callous on his fingers makes her body vibrate as he touches over her skin. 

“Cooper,” Lucy whimpers, her hands running up into his hair, as his hands cup her breast through her bra. “M’maybe we should-” His head ducks down, mouth going along her stomach. It feels so good, but it’s so fast. “Cooper, we shouldn’t-”

His teeth sink into her flesh, “Fuck- Ow- Cooper-” Lucy tries to pull him away but he bites in deeper, Lucy can feel her skin tearing. The sound of teeth in flesh, the wet sticky pop, her face twisting in a grimace. 

Lucy is scrambling, a scream finally leaving her throat at the pain, trying to get him off of her. “Stop. Stop-p it.” Lucy cries out, her hands finally pushing him off of her. The skin is not skin anymore, but rough and lizard-like under her hands. Cutting into her palm as she does her best to get it off of her. 

It’s not Cooper. Looking up at her, with blood painting its chin like a crimson river, is something that looks like Max. Its features are the same, but eyes instead of brown glow like orange flames, skin darker than shadows. Skin Covered in layers and layers of never-ending shifting scales that move in the light. A bloody grin spreads across its face. There are too many teeth, so sharp, in neverending rows, the pink spit glistening as it grinned up at her. Stomach oozing blood over her pants and dripping on the floor. 

“Just wanted a taste.” It growls at her, suddenly lunging forward to latch onto her neck.

Lucy is howling and fighting to get it off her struggling, as she falls to the floor. Her body protested as she hit the ground with a thud, the whole room going dark. She is pushing and struggling, but it’s soft now. Her hands are not grabbing at scales but material, eyes adjusting to the new surroundings. She was on the floor of her bedroom; chest heaving as she tries to make sense of where she was, and how she got there. 

Pushing the blanket off of her, she takes in the room around her. Her bedroom, she had fallen off the bed and landed on the floor. Lucy flips on the light and looks down, pulling up her shirt to look at her stomach. Hands running over where there should be torn tissue, before going up to her neck. Nothing. 

It had felt real, she could still feel the way it’s teeth had dug into her, the pain that had shot through her body. Looking at the bed Lucy expected to see blood, expected to see something. Throwing off the sheets there was nothing but sweat stains. 

Lucy collapsed onto the floor, her body trembling at the memory. It looked so much like Max, but it was all wrong. His face had been too round, eyes too far apart, hair too spiky, so many teeth. The eyes, orange fire-filled eyes, glowing like embers burning into her soul like hot ash on ice. Her hands scramble to the side of her table gabbing for her phone. 

For the first time, she doesn’t hesitate, hitting Cooper’s number. Pressing the phone to her ear, she hadn’t even looked at the time.

***

Cooper was there in a matter of minutes, Lucy opening the door for him, still in a state of shock. He had immediately gathered her up into his arms, hugging her tight against his chest, refusing to let her go until he got her over to the couch. He had her sit, covering her with several blankets, before moving into the kitchen. A hot cup of coffee with hot chocolate was put in front of her, along with some toast. He slid in beside her, bundling her up and tucking Lucy into his side. Her hands wrapping around him as she shivers, her whole body felt like it was frozen.

“You doing okay, sweetheart,” Cooper murmurs, his voice rumbling against the side of her head. Lucy could feel herself melting into his side, wanting to find some way to stay there forever.

Lucy swallows, nodding, “Just-” She wasn’t even sure how to put it all into words. It wasn’t exactly normal to have eighties horror movie dreams every night. “Nightmares have been really bad.” 

Cooper rubs his hand down her arm, Lucy lets her eyes close for a moment and enjoy the comfort.“How often have you been having them?”

Lucy snuggled in closer, reaching for the coffee mug and taking a sip. The warm caffeine and chocolate drink heating her insides. “Since the house got ransacked, it’s been nightly.”

Cooper’s chest grumbles at the words, arms somehow pulling her closer to him. “What was it about?”

“I don’t, I-” Lucy takes a sip of more coffee, before telling him what she’d dreamt about. Not skipping any details, the warmth of the coffee and his body made it easier to get it off her chest. 

Cooper hums, he takes his hat off, setting it beside him on the couch, hand running into his hair. He scratches at the stubble for a second. “Well, that wasn’t the dreams I’d hope you’d have of me.”

Lucy smacks his stomach at the joke, a small smile passing on her lips at the jest, “You think I like this? I’d much prefer no dreams, or well other dreams.”

Cooper grins, Lucy pouting a little, as he chuckles, “No, I don’t think that, I do worry about the nightmares. Can’t ‘member the last time I had a night-terror. Why you’re tired all the time?”

She nods, her eyelids weighing heavy despite the coffee and mind-bending visions.“I feel like I am losing my mind, Cooper.” 

“You’re not goin’ crazy, I think ya need sleep. Maybe some time away.” Cooper mumbles into her ear, pushing hair out of her face. “Why don’t ya let me take ya to my home.”

Lucy’s brows furrow, she didn’t want him to leave, but she also felt like she should stay. Why did she want to stay? The nightmares never stopped her, the shadows, the taping, the knocking? Yet the thought of leaving made her stomach turn, but when Lucy left she felt lighter. 

“You promise you don’t think I am going crazy?” Lucy whispers, wondering how much he would believe. How much did she even believe? None of this made sense, not really. 

He shifts so he can look right at her, eyebrows making his forehead wrinkle.“I promise I don’t think’ya’re goin’ crazy. Anymore than am goin’ crazy.”

“I feel like I am supposed to be here, even with all the nightmares, the shadows, the house being tossed. I keep comin’ back.” Lucy states, her fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket. Saying it out loud made it seem even more ridiculous than it had in the confines of her mind.

Cooper nods, placing the mug on the coffee table, hand running up and down her arm more. “It’s not surprisin’, this place is your home. It’s where ya grew up.”

“It’s not just that,” Lucy said, sitting up a bit, clutching at the mug, trying to hold onto some shred of reality. “It’s like something is pulling me here. Like I can’t leave.”

“So, leavin’ would probably be wise,” Cooper replies, his hand finding hers. “You’re sleep-deprived, runnin’ on fumes, Lucy. We have a spare room ya can stay in. Until ya can catch up on sleep, have a better view on thin’s with a clear head.”

Lucy sat back, the thought of being off the farm made her stomach twist, but she also needed sleep. Actual sleep sounded amazing, to not feel like she was burning at both ends. 

She nods her head finally. “Yeah, maybe I do need to leave.” 

***

Lucy was sitting at her family's dinner table, watching the kids outside to play on the deck. She had slept most of the day away, her exhaustion not feeling nearly as pressing as it usually did. The spring air was warm today, the hints of summer shifting in the air. She’d slept most of the day, Cooper had brought her to his place at about three am, the two tiptoeing upstairs. Initially, he’d offered her the spare bedroom, but after opening the door and seeing a pile of laundry, his room was the next best. Cooper had insisted on sleeping downstairs, despite Lucy’s best attempt to get him to stay. Traumatizing the children wasn’t high on her list. She was a little peeved he hadn’t woken her up, but she was also grateful for the extended rest. 

Stephanie sat down across from her, glancing out at the kids. They were running back and forth across the deck, possibly paying tag. “How’s it going, Lucy.”

“I am doing okay,” Lucy lies, there was no reason anyone needed to know any more about her problems. “Did you ever talk to Betty?”

“Oh! Yes, Betty.” Stephanie smiled, digging through her phone. “I sent her the photos.” She lets out a sigh, “Unfortunately no dice. Seems like it’s still a mystery.”

“Dang was hopin’ we’d get somethin’ more,” Cooper said, sitting beside Lucy. She desperately wants to crawl onto his lap and fall asleep, but instead, she shuffles a little closer. Steph watching the two of them closely, one eyebrow up. 

“Yeah. probably something diggin’ like you said.” Steph says, shutting her phone off and leaning back into her chair. “Had any more weird stuff happen?” 

Lucy shook her head, not wanting to get into the details, “Nope, hoping it stays that way really.” 

Bert sat down beside Steph leaning in to give her a quick kiss, “Y’all heard about the Roths.”

Cooper and Lucy looking at each other, shaking their heads. It wasn’t like they had had a free moment lately.

“Last night something came and killed two calves. Did some damage to some of the cows too.” Bert sighs, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Like we needed more loss this year.”

Lucy's mind ran over the property map. The Roth's had a section leased from her that was back half on parkland and half onto her farm. There was also the nightmare last night.

“Which section was it?” Lucy asks, already knowing the answer.

“The section southwest of your place, actually,” Reg's brows furrowing. “Weird huh.”

“Do you know what time?” Cooper asks, his hands taping at the table.

Lucy realizing that Cooper was also putting two and two together. 

“Not sure, I know it was overnight.” Reg replied, “Why? Something happened with you guys too?”

Lucy swallowed, her hands going to cover her stomach. The feeling of her flesh ripping out, the haunting image of its eyes, the sound of its voice. 

“Nothing of note, we did have a mummified calf. But Barry figures it was just a bad pregnancy.” Cooper shrugs, the action supposed to be of disinterest, but his shoulders stay tight. Lucy is happy that he didn't bring up her nightmares until she got some more sleep it wasn’t worth mentioning. Right? 

“Maybe it's the weird spring. Warming up too fast. Animals reacting to it,” Steph adds, her hand covering Reg's. Her eyes looking between the two of them. 

Cooper is up and moving as the sliding door opens, Mathias holding a frog in his hand. The little boy had a grin from ear to ear as he holds it up to show his Dad the little critter he'd found.

“Can't bring it in here, buddy. Why don't we go take it to the pond,” Cooper tells him with a smile, petting the little creature his son held up. Lucy smiling as the two wander out of sight.

“So how long you two-” Steph raises an eyebrow, with a cheshire smile,

“Been a thing?” 

Lucy’s cheeks burn at the words, not realizing how obvious she had been. “No. Well. Yes. But not that long. Didn’t realize I was that transparent..” 

The couple chuckle, Steph smiling at her cousin, as she squeezes Reg’s hand. Free hand waving at Lucy as if it was nothing.

“You both need a little light in your lives,” Reg states smiling at Lucy, before looking at his wife. 

“Keeping things quiet for now. Haven't really talked about it much.” Lusy confesses, Marge coming over to sit at the table.

“Keeping what quiet hon?” Marge questions, holding a cup of tea in her hands. Cooper comes back in through the sliding door, walking over and kissing Lucy on the cheek. Marge chuckles and makes an ahh sound, Lucy doing her damndest not to slide under the table. 

“As long as you're both happy,” Harris says, patting Lucy on the shoulder. Lucy having a hard time keeping her cool, it wasn’t as if they’d put a label on things. They’d kissed once for crying out loud.

“Could I speak to you for a moment, Lucy?” Harris asks, kissing Marge on the top of her head before moving towards the hallway.

“Absolutely,” Lucy smiles, looking back at Coope who nods before following her Uncle into the big house. 

Down past the bedrooms a door leads into a well-lit office, the far wall has three large windows that face out into the backyard and forest line. A large old desk sat in the middle, along with several large filing cabinets and bookshelves. The room was bright against the dark wood, space big enough for two large overstuffed chairs beside the bookcases. On a well-worn stool were three faded bankers' boxes. Lucy recognizes her Grandpa's handwriting on the front. Harris puts a big hand on top of one rotating so he is facing Lucy.

“Me and Margie have,” He pauses looking out the large windows towards the forest. “Debated about whether we should give you these. Tim asked me to burn them. But it didn't feel right.”

Lucy crossed her arms, hugging herself a little as she looked at her Uncle. His usual nonchalant demeanor now scrunched together in tight lines across his face. Pacing back and forth in front of the window as he spoke. 

“These are Tim’s journals. Going back to a month after your Dad and Uncle went missing.” Harris replies, Lucy, feels a wave of dread wash over her as he moves over to his filing cabinet.

“They didn't go missing- '' Lucy goes to reply, Harris placing a newspaper in front of her. Headline read Two men killed in farm accident. “Yeah, this is what Tim showed me.”

“Flip to page four,” Harris said, Lucy did as he asked, unable to get a read on his emotions. Page four has a smaller blurb, Search for brothers ends. Lucy reads through the blurb, a cold pool of dread weighing in her guts. 

“They went missing in the forest. In the forest around my house.” Lucy whispers, her hands shaking as she rereads the words. “They never found the bodies.”

Harris meets her eyes as she looks up at him, “What is going on?” Lucy demands dropping the paper on top of the boxes. “Why? Why? Did no one tell me?”

“Tim made us promise,” Harris said, placing his big bear paw-sized hands on her shoulder, it felt like the weight of the news pressing down on her. “He didn’t want you or Norm to know. He figured that if you thought they were dead you could move on. In ways he never let himself move on.” 

Lucy moves away from Harris, a deep sense of betrayal washing over her. “You’re telling me he didn’t think they were dead? It’s been decades since they went missing.”

Harris had sat himself down in one of the overstuffed chairs. “We searched and searched for weeks. Even after search and rescue stopped, stuf-,” He rubs one of his big mitts across a day's worth of stubble. “Stuff happened during the search. Stuff that doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

Lucy sighs, flopping into the chair beside her Uncle, “Could we not be vague, please? I can handle whatever happened then.”

“While we were searching, people heard things.” Harris’s face went pale.

“They kept hearing Hank call out, or Shaun. It sounded like they were close, but we could never find them. It would go quiet for days, then Me and Tim would go out and hear them again.”

Lucy swallows, “Like it was calling you there.”

Harris looks at her, a knowing look passing over his face. “It scared some of the volunteers. Hearing them, but never finding them. Then a week before your Mom checked out it stopped. These journals are the first time I even had any idea that it had continued after you both got there.” 

“We spent our entire childhood in and out of those woods.” Lucy’s voice was raised, her heart thudding in her chest. “Why would he let us in there if he thought it was dangerous?”

Harris looking older than his year. “Lucy. If I thought you were in any danger I would have taken you and Norm out of there.” Lucy stands there staring at him, anger subsiding at the honesty in his words. “No one. Not one of us. Thought you were in any danger there.”

Lucy swallows, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. “Once you kids arrived, Tim didn’t share anything. I thought. I thought he was dealing with the loss of his sons. In his own way, never finding the bodies made him want to hold on to hope. So I let him. Then when he got the cancer diagnosis he brought me these boxes. Telling me to burn them once he was dead. That it would all be over, I didn’t know what he meant. But it was like a weight had finally been lifted off of him. ” Lucy shifts in her chair, unsure how to feel. “When your place got tossed I pulled them out, I read a few.” Harris shifts in his chair, staring at the boxes. “I don’t know what I was expecting but you should read them.”

“What is in them?” Lucy pushes, feeling like she is waiting for a bomb to go off. Her hold on the world was sliding, and she wasn’t sure if she would make it.

“Memories, stuff about your childhood. But also. Other stuff. Stuff I don’t know if I can believe.” Harris’s voice going soft. “I should have told you a long time ago and I am sorry for that. But maybe this will help, maybe put things to rest finally.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

PART EIGHT

Tag list: @toogaytofunctiondangit , @hiddlebatchedloki , @whatsorceressisthis @dichromaniac @autumncryptids

*I am gonna say we are onto act 2... it's only gonna get darker from here < 3

**As always likes, comments, shares are soooo appreciated, you can find me Ao3 as well

** Want to be on the tag list let me know

[pedroshotwifey]

Christmas Countdown Day 17 - Mulled Wine

Treat

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Word count: 1.7k (on the dot)

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, smut, fluff, daddy kink, piv sex, DIRTY dirty talk, soft dom joel, but also degrading nicknames (in a loving way), idk y'all its 2:00 am rn, frottage, stuff i'm forgetting

Summary: Joel thanks you for your consideration

A/N: I'm so tired, but I think this turned out pretty good. Lots of dirty talk. Idk. I'm putting this in my queue and passing tf out. Idk what happened bc this was supposed to be sweet and then it turned so dirty.

****

You watch Joel from the window as you finish stirring your ingredients one final time. It had been a bit of a struggle to get everything you needed to create a mulled wine, but you had done it. 

Joel had mentioned to you in passing how he used to drink it around Christmas time before the outbreak. He’d invite Tommy over and the brothers would sit at the kitchen table with Sarah. 

Joel would sip on his wine while Tommy indulged on his usual beer, absolutely refusing to touch Joel’s “sissy drink”. Sarah had asked once if she could have a mug of it, and so she ended up with a warm apple cider. 

The story had made you laugh, you could almost see Tommy teasing Joel while Sarah whined for her own “sissy drink”. 

They would sit around with their respective drinks after decorating the tree and recall fond memories. It was one of Joel’s favorite traditions back then, and you could tell he had a hard time opening up about it. 

He’s been doing so much better with it lately–opening up to you. He used to not let a thing slip, but since you’ve settled in Jackson with Ellie, he’s been able to relax a bit. You don’t try to rush it, but you’re happy that he’s finally able to do so. 

You sigh contentedly as you divide the wine into two steaming mugs. Looking back out the window, you can see Joel coming back up from the shed where Ellie had insisted on living. He’s halfway back to the main house now. 

You think it’s cute, but also good for her, that she wanted to be independent. Though you would hate to be any farther from her. You know Joel feels the same way with how much he talks about it and goes over there to fix small things for her. 

Just now, he had been over there re-caulking the window frames. He’s been worried about how cold it might be getting in there lately with all the snow outside. 

Just then, Joel opens the door, a blast of frosty air blowing in with him and making you shiver. He notices you immediately, a smile adorning his rosy features. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says as he starts to pull his gloves off. “What’re you doin?” 

You step to him, starting to help him with his thick leather jacket. He sets his gloves down on the kitchen counter and allows you to pry the coat off. 

“Just making a treat,” you say, trying to hide the excitement in your voice. 

“Oh?” Joel questions with a slight chuckle at your vague answer. “What kinda treat?” 

You bite your lip to suppress your smile as you hang his coat up on the rack by the door before backtracking to the stove. You pick up the two steaming mugs of wine and walk back to him. 

Joel knows what it is as soon as you pass him his mug. He looks down at it, then at you with nothing but love and gratitude. Not only had you remembered him talking about how much he enjoyed it, but you had gone out of your way to do something nice for him. 

You watch him, trying to gauge his reaction. It did cross your mind once or twice while making it that he might not appreciate it because of the memories. That it might bring back things he didn’t want to think about. It didn’t seem likely–maybe a few months ago it would have–but not now. It had still been nagging you nonetheless. 

It definitely doesn’t look like that’s the case, though, with the way Joel takes both of the mugs and sets them down to engulf you in a hug. He holds you close to him and whispers a small “thank you, baby” into your hair. 

You smile into his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around him. 

“You’re welcome, Joel,” you say, pulling your head back. He dips down to kiss you slowly, and you bring one of your hands up to thread into his fluffy graying hair. Joel groans into your lips and keeps ahold of you as he leads you backwards into the living room, your lips staying together as much as possible. 

Once he reaches the couch, he sits down, pulling you on top of him. You shift to get situated in his lap, the two of you separating to catch your breath. Keeping eye contact, you grind down on him, making him groan as you pass over his bulge. 

“Careful, darlin’,” Joel warns. “Keep that up and I ain’t gonna go easy on you.” 

You smile mischievously at him as you do it again, and this time as he groans, he puts his hands over your hips and helps you do it. You allow him to drag you across him, his dick hardening with each pass. 

Your clit catches on the fabric of his jeans, making you moan sweetly as you place your forehead on his shoulder. 

“Feels good,” you whine as the pressure increases. 

“Bet it does,” Joel teases. “My whore’s so starved she can get her little pussy off rubbin’ on my fuckin’ jeans.” 

You moan louder at his words as you gyrate your hips, feeling a warmth starting to take over in your belly. 

“Yeah, you gonna come like this?” Joel asks. 

You just nod, letting him feel your agreement. You’re so close, just a couple more seconds. 

“Alright then, go ahead, baby. Come on daddy’s lap with that slutty little cunt.” 

And you do. You moan loudly as your movements grow more frantic, your cum seeping out and slicking up your clit to make the glide more pleasurable. The feeling of your pussy throbbing around nothing is almost a tease when you have Joel’s cock within reach. 

He seems to know what you’re thinking, because as soon as you stop moving, he reaches for your pants. He unzips them and pats your thigh to make you get up before pulling them and your ruined panties down your thighs and having your step out of them. 

You quickly get back onto his lap, covering his lips with yours in a sloppy kiss as he begins to work at his own pants. You can feel the moment he pulls his cock out, and you look down to admire it. You’ve always thought he has such a beautiful cock. Seems fitting for him. 

His tip is already an angry red, leaking pre-cum which lubricates his thick shaft as he pumps himself a couple times. 

“C’mon, baby, get up here on daddy’s cock. Don’t make me wait.” 

You quickly obey, sitting up on your knees to notch him at your entrance. You sink down on him, moaning as he grunts. Your hands fly to his shoulders as he bottoms out, allowing you to adjust for a second. 

It is only a second though, before he starts to thrust up into you. You moan at the first punch of his cock against your cervix. He places his hands back on your hips and assists you on bouncing on him. 

“Tha’s it, baby,” Joel praises. “Never get tired of this messy fucking pussy. She’s always so hungry for me.”

You whine in agreement as you lift yourself up and down, a wet squelch coming from between your legs each time you fill yourself. Joel gazes into your eyes as you struggle to keep yours open. His teeth grit each time he hits a spot that makes you squeeze around him. 

“Feel so good, daddy,” you tell him as you admire the thin sheen of sweat beginning to cover his golden skin. “I-you-I–”

“I know, honey,” Joel cuts you off. “Cockdrunk already.” 

His condescending tone never fails to get you going. You fucking love it when he treats you like this, because you know that it’s not real. Just for now, you get to be his slut, his little fuck toy. Joel would never dream of speaking to you like this any other way. 

You just nod at him, feeling your second orgasm approach. Joel begins to thrust quicker into you, making you whine with each punch. 

“Yeah, I can feel it, baby. Let go for me.” 

It only takes a few more thrusts before you’re coming around him, flooding his cock with your cum. The extra lubrication makes it even easier for him to slide in and out of you, and he takes full advantage of that, fucking your thorugh your orgasm at full speed. 

“So damn tight n wet,” Joel grits out. “Poor pussy just can’t control ‘erself.” 

“Mnm, she needs you, daddy,” you confirm, your eyes closed now as you rest on his shoulder again. Your legs are starting to ache, but you continue your movements as much as you can so Joel isn’t doing all the work, though you’re sure he wouldn’t mind too much. 

His pace begins to falter and get more frantic as he gets closer to his own end. 

“G-Gonna come on this little cunt,” he tells you through tight teeth. “Mark you all up n watch it drip off’a you.”

“Please, Joel, want your cum so bad.” 

You can feel the way he pulses as he gets closer, watch the way he bites his plush bottom lip to contain himself. 

He suddenly pulls you up hard, his cock falling out of you just in time to coat your pussy lips with his warm cum. He groans as he runs his tip just barely onto you, letting the sligh friction lengthen his high. 

When he comes down, he places you gently back on his lap, his spent cock nestled between the two of you. You both breath heavily in a comfortable silence, and you almost fall asleep until you remember the wine. 

“Wait, Joel–” 

“It’s good room-temp too,” he says, his eyes cracked open just slightly. You scowl playfully at him, slapping his chest lightly. 

“Or we could warm it back up. Jus’ sit here a minute, darlin. I’m too damn old for this shit.”

You giggle at him but comply, resting your head back on his chest. The wine will just have to wait.

****

Thank you for reading! lemme know If you wanna join the countdown taglist :)

FOTJC: @arcanefox207 @redhotkitchen @magpiepills @exquisiteserotonin @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo @morallyinept @beskarandblasters @tightjeansjavi @theywhowriteandknowthings @nerdieforpedro @maggiemayhemnj @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @ghostofaboy @joels-shitty-puns @elvinaa

WCC: @amyispxnk @melaninmommy @brittmb115 @mandoalorian @yorksgirl

Link to prompt list

[portraitoftheoddity]

House ownership so far

I moved in at the beginning of May and it's been.... a project. This house is earning the title of my problem child, lol.

So far, I have:

Seemingly gotten rid of the mice (fingers crossed)

Discouraged the scouting carpenter ants (FUCK OFF YA LITTLE BASTARDS)

Removed soooo many spider webs. (I don't hate spiders, just don't want 'em *inside* my house thanks.)

Cleaned up a truly apocalyptic quantity of mouse poop and sterilized so many surfaces. I needed a shop vac for the basement. I still haven't cleaned out one part of the basement that I'm dreading, and need to vacuum the attic.

Replaced all the locks, which involved a chisel to get the strike plates in a place where the deadbolts would actually connect

Caulked up so many holes

Got a plumber to replace the leaky water heater valve

Got a quote for new fencing (mom got bored and came over and tore down the rotted out segments of fence and pulled up the shitty wire fence out back, which I helped her roll up.)

Replaced the stove, since the mice had colonized the old one and rendered it unusable

As of today, I have adequate water filtration so the water comes out clear and is safe to drink! And I don't have to fill up from my parents' well or the town spring.

Tore down the wallpaper in one of the upstairs rooms (now my office) and repainted the wall

Repainted the living room/dining room/front hall where the walls were scuffed to hell

Installed doorbells

Deep cleaned the most disgusting side door I've ever seen

Got an EMERGENCY plumber because the bath faucet broke and wouldn't turn off at 10 at night. X_X

Assembled a medicine cabinet, but haven't hung it up yet

Assembled a new bookcase. Because priorities.

Called the electric company about getting the rotting trees removed that are in danger of falling on THEIR power lines that run through my property (need to follow up)

Have a basement guy working on stabilizing the foundation from the inside by sealing up the crack and adding carbon fiber supports

Put down a deposit with a landscape contractor to install drainage to lessen further foundation issues from water pressure flowing down the hill I'm on

Repainted the guest bedroom, and assembled a bedframe for it

Installed hook latches for the upstairs doors whose knobs don't latch because they're 75 years old

And honestly I feel like I've barely had the chance to touch anything since I am also working full time and freelancing part time on top of that and my job is nuts right now. I have a whole color coded spreadsheet of everything I need to do. I want to repaint both bathrooms and the kitchen, I need to hang the damn medicine cabinet, I want to build a pantry cabinet in the kitchen so I can turn the front hall closet I'm using as a pantry into a hall closet, I want to set up the basement as a chill out den, and there is sooooo much work to do outside I'm trying not to freak out about it because apart from keeping the lawn mowed, I'm trying to relegate most of it to "next year's projects."

I'm so tired.

[kryptidkhaos]

gods, i've finally started seeing other people put into words the struggles i've been having with keeping things clean in substandard housing. how it's basically impossible to do any proper cleaning when practically everything in the place falls apart if you look at it too hard.

in our apartment, the tiles peel up off the floor if you sweep them too hard, much less mop them with anything stronger than cold water. under the hastily glued down tile is nothing but pressed wood that flakes chips everywhere.

if you run a hand along any of the walls, you'll pull it back covered in flecks of landlord special white paint, so good luck wiping those down without peeling a few layers off.

none of the windows or doors are sealed properly, and we live in florida, so moisture and mold are abundant.

all of the plumbing leaks. all of it. you can't turn on a single faucet anywhere in this unit without water coming out somewhere it shouldn't be. there's problems with the pipes themselves and molded worn out caulking around everything. the leaks have been """repaired""" several times and always come back in a few days.

because of the leaks, the cabinets around all of our sinks (which are also made of pressed wood) are bloated, warped, and basically rotted through the bottom (which means they're also constantly flaking off wood chips). maintenance threw some pieces of scrap wood in the bottom of the cabinets to cover the holes and called it good.

even if i had endless time and energy to devote to scrubbing this place top to bottom, decorating and nesting, etc, there's no way for me to ever make it into a truly comfortable and cozy place to live when the very structure itself is crumbling under my hands.

[protocolseben]

(3 days before flight)

"Rocky, should I untether Mark from the pipes?"

"Don't even think about it Sebastian. I don't want to get into trouble !"

»»» 11th Day of Mission

Load LOG : // SL-21-20XX-28-12_01…

(alternate title : fuck characterisation, hello OOC. get OOC pain'd.)

###########

23:04:26:85 UTC +1 CET

Recording? Ok...so today-

("Talking into your diary again like a girl, love? ")

"Fucking…" clunk "It's my logging session. I'll throw something at you."

("Did you forget where you are?")

"Fick dich."

("…I hope that's German for 'I like you a lot?' ")

< clunk >

recording terminated due to lack of sound / voice activity.

###########

END LOG SL-21-20XX-28-12_01

// -----------------------------

Load LOG : // SL-21-20XX-28-12_02…

###########

23:11:33:02 UTC +1 CET

…Ok, the light is on, it is recording now.

This morning the Earth looked bluer than usual, and I really liked it, so I grabbed the camera and quickly snapped a picture. My photography skills are good enough!

NASA's Jackson called us the noisiest astronauts ever. Fair... But he did remark on how efficiently Mark and I get the work done around the station, given the state and the age of the machines. We would really just split the massive amount of maintenance into two and made sure we tied up any loose ends, and they were always impressed.

Today we had to do a pretty massive job of putting on the NOAX stuff on the many of the station panels. It was our second time doing a spacewalk in only eleven days, so that's a big thing. And it was…four hours outside, putting basically space caulk. Heat really gets to these big guys! The application was less than fantastic though, as we had to use spatulas to put them on…it was a really careful science experiment. There's Mark and me, stuck to only the metal railings of the station for our lives, putting state-of-the-art things with some ma's spatula. It's hot doing this the whole day, just mashing this stuff in! Sweating in space is not fun…

I looked up the stuff when I got back from the work. They use these things in Formula 1 cars…? Well you learn something new everyday and experience new things too, but I'm not sure how this caulk thing will benefit that much… probably only useful if Michael Schumacher goes 27 thousand kilometres per hour, sure…

Ok, I have been putting off talking about Mark.

The previous recordings already have them, but for memory's sake, I will just mention it here. I know, I know, I'm going to be 24 next year, and here I am, still feeling like i'm in middle school with how I'm acting.

We've been co-workers for two years now, and we've had our fair share of being at each other's necks. Horner didn't help either. The only thing he had to say to us before we left was that we were like an old married couple. And to get "our shit sorted by the end of the trip".

Well…

It really is hard to put it into words. It was pretty obvious to everyone, so I am the idiot here. Hah... I tried not to think much of it, especially during the suit up procedure for the spacewalks. it needed two people anyway.

Before we went back into the airlock, the bastard went to unhook my tether off the metal railing! Fucker!! Do you know how screwed we'll get if I wasn't anywhere with the EMU? He had the gall to laugh in his suit. I should have just beaten his face in just now.

("You didn't mention me holding your hands?")

clnk

("oh shoot--")

recording terminated due to lack of sound / voice activity.

###########

END LOG SL-21-20XX-28-12-2

----------------

[stardewremixed]

More Gus Headcanons

has a specialized knife with his initials from back in his army days

doesn't like guns even though his has his dad's old hunting rifle

has wicked chopping skills

can expertly gut a fish

worked as a cook during his time in the military - and his unit appreciated it and his ability to get rare spices and make their rations taste 1000% better

this inspired him to attend culinary school on his military benefits.

really embraces the "gentle giant" persona

gives the best bear hugs

never had kids of his own, but spoils his nieces and nephews when they come to town

he would make a fantastic dad, though (I just know this!)

is a champion bowler and drives to the next town over once a month to bowl with his old army buddies

makes hand-churned butter that would make anyone melt with happiness (the absolute best addition to his freshly baked pastries)

hates glasses because they get in the way of his day-to-day life so he wears contacts instead

his hand-rolled dough for pizza is legendary - and a favorite of Shane's, Sam's, and Alex's

writes a thank you note by hand after receiving a gift; his penmanship is a bit messy, but it's the thought that counts

has a hefty handshake

is pretty handy - he can do basic plumbing repairs, patch a roof, re-caulk a bathtub, etc. but most of the time, he hires someone to do the work since he doesn't have as much time with running his business, though he did install a railing outside on his steps for his older patrons (like Evelyn)

asked Robin to help him put in a ramp for George so the man can wheel inside himself

could wipe the floor with ya in cards and has the best poker face

could write the book on homestyle cooking (and he might someday, if he works up the courage to share his recipes with the world)

hates cooking shows because he's his own worst critic

is a hairy guy - face, arms, legs, chest, abs, but he draws the line at his back (and so he goes to get it waxed twice a year)

uses an all-natural wax to get his moustache to sit just perfectly

doesn't mind slipping into the spa for a hot soak after being on his feet for most of the day - it's a great way to unwind

was a wrestler in college and briefly thought about going pro

might still challenge someone to an arm wrestling contest at the Stardew Fair in the fall just for fun

his nose is a little crooked from when he intervened in an incident involving a purse-snatcher (though most people think it's from his wrestling or army days)

has very rounded ears, rather petite, for the large man he is

always hires extra help for the festival days, pays well above average, and lets all his employees keep the tips

has a thing for Hercule Poirot in Agatha Christie mysteries - it's gotta be the moustache, right? Hee... hee...

always keeps a book by his nightstand for a little late night reading before he dozes off

has a freakishly good immune system and rarely gets a cold (all those oranges he must be eating)

likes spicy food - but it must have a good blend of flavor and heat!

has a pair of diamond earrings he inherited from his mother and always thought about getting his ears pierced to wear them, but he's afraid of needles

the man is terrified of getting blood drawn and can be a big baby - Harvey always has to ask for extra help from Maru

keeps the doctor's office stocked in homemade candies

brings you a coffee on a blustery day just because

still has a corded phone in the back kitchen

played handbells at church when he was a kid and might... just... might... be persuaded to play at the Feast of the WInter Star

sometimes does ax throwing to blow off some steam (always safely and with proper equipment)

can sew on patches in a pinch, but usually just asks Emily for help

puts mustard on his hot dogs and pretzels and hamburgers

writes a grocery list and then forgets to bring it with him to the General Store, but he's got a decent memory

always pays his taxes on time, if not early

can whistle really loudly

can spike a beach volleyball like nobody's business

has a stamps collection - of little critters and farm animals

Romance Headcanons

took ballroom dance lessons as a young man and was quite popular with all of his partners back in the day

spends most of his evenings tending bar and talking with patrons and cooking, but he might bust a move every once in a while, if persuaded, but he doesn't like to show off so if you join him, he feels less self-conscious

When he's nervous, his hands shake a little, but he calms down if you reach out and squeeze his hands

never wears rings on his fingers because of cooking but he would wear one around his neck if he ever gets married

has a pair of leopard print handcuffs that he got as a joke in Zuzu City one time with an ex and he'll blush up a storm if you ask him about it

would absolutely carry you on his shoulders just so you can reach the best fruits in the orchard

totally has a thing for maid costumes (not in a perverted way, but if you dressed up for him in the bedroom, he wouldn't complain)

is extremely neat in general, speaking of maids, and would expect you to keep your things tidy if you leave stuff at his place

likes building a rip roaring fire on chilly winter nights and cuddle with you on the couch

doesn't think of himself as an uber-attractive guy, but he has a healthy self-esteem and figures he's got a bit of that handsome older gentleman look going

would absolutely hold all your bags if you went on a shopping spree at the mall (and he wouldn't complain about it)

Presses wildflowers between pages in a book - like the bouquet you gave him when you asked him to date you

Would hand write all your wedding invitations - would want to keep the ceremony small and intimate - just good friends and family

This list grew much longer than expected!

[auckie]

Finished my boys back panel for his new apartment. After it cures more I’m gonna install it, then the drainage layer (which I absolutely don’t need) and then the substrate. I was gonna make the bottom water proof but decided to just go with a protective mat instead. I don’t think I’ll be able to take it apart later but maybe it’ll be like. The last thing I ever move idk. Then Ill put up the UVB, his lamp, I miiiight have a heat mat on the bottom just in case but probably won’t ever use it idk, and finally his giant fucking water dish and ugly bottom hide. Then I’ll see if I can fit some of the roof/side climbing limbs I had planned. Was gonna drill them in but I don’t think the pvc will allow for it. I might try more foam/silicone *and* a bit of drilling, but we’ll see. Then the top leaf coverage (silk plants lol), and finally his giant cork log. I was also planning on putting some tiling over his ugly hide, or just replacing it completely bc he has the wall one plus the log. I also gotta test the weight capacity of the wall log tomorrow after curing. It’s resistant to heavy tugging, and he really doesn’t weigh *that* much but you never know the kind of stress he might put on it. It’s low to the ground so it wouldn’t be catastrophic but it would be difficult to fix. Eventually I would like to go full naturalistic and add plants and bio active substrate. Moving water is beyond my skill capacity/willingness to learn or spend so the static dish will have to do, but I am interested in a mister even tho I know it’s not necessary. He’s been doing well with my humidifier and just some sprays, wet corners, and the dish, but if I do pursue plants it may be crucial. Granted I know scale rot is something people warn about but I figure if I keep it high then I can avoid laden substrate. Plus the drainage layer would help.

I even bought a kitchen scale to weigh him. I was gonna get a temp gun too but that’s kinda absurd since I got like, two different humidity gauges and a temp regulator + thermometer. if I have room I may also try a slight rock border at the bottom of the back panel but I’m not really like. Interested in using foam again, either panel or expanding. Bc it sucks and i despise it. Silicone too honestly, even the aquarium rated stuff which is easier (imo) to get off skin. My dad REALLY wanted to use caulk but I was like hell no. I’ll resort to shelf pins/rivets for support before I try that lol.

I just scrolled up and realized the pic is so dark bc I just turned the overhead light off and didn’t have flash on but I’m so tired and sweaty I don’t care. It’s a cork bark/spanish moss/sphagnum moss back wall but it does just look like a mess of leaves and shit from the pic. I started really clean and then got progressively sloppier as time went on

Here’s a before progress pic SORRY for foot

And here’s snoopert head. He’s getting upgraded from 60 gallon to 120. Tbh if I had the room and money I’d totally have gotten the 240 one

Fuck snoopy

[clatterbane]

How fun! With our repeated plumbing problems (with another episode involving an emergency plumber last week), we ended up with some smelly smelly mold growing back under the bathtub. It didn't help that a washcloth or something apparently also fell back under there at some point.

We have been cleaning and disinfecting things as well as possible every single time the drain backs up. It's just nigh impossible to thoroughly scrub way back in the corners under the tub, with the way things are set up in there.

So yeah, today Mr. C decided that the best plan was to actually move the bathtub out enough to reach back in there and get it scrubbed out better. (There is normally maybe a 2" gap between it and the back wall. Just enough for some shampoo bottles to fall down if you're not careful, but not enough to even reach a human arm in to retrieve them.)

Which involved disconnecting the pipe going down to the troublesome floor drain, and cutting through the caulk somebody put in between the tub and the wall at one end. Not much fun, but at least it is a freestanding tub otherwise. And at least now it won't be caulked to the wall the next time that drain backs up. 😫

Yeah, he was doing the dirty work in his underwear. And I really don't blame him. His ass is not normally pixelated. I hesitated to post this, even so. Also explaining the terrible angle.

After some scrubbing, it got sloshed down with bleach again. That's sitting for a while, before it gets another good scrub with strong floor soap.

I do feel kinda bad that he's the only one who is consistently doing jobs like this around here, largely thanks to being the only one with both legs. Though, especially with as allergic as I am to mold? I maybe don't feel as bad as I could about not jumping in on this particular job. He commented that he was just as glad he didn't get any pics of the moldy mess to show me, it was that nasty.

[invisibleraven]

1st date asks

For some reason I feel like Carrie would be someone that would enjoy upcycling furniture. With Reggie please.

"Oooh pull over!"

"Um why?" Reggie asked even as he pulled his truck over to the side of the road in the ritzy neighbourhood they were driving through.

Carrie didn't answer, instead jumping out and going towards the pile of stuff sitting at the end of the driveway. Reggie out of pure curiosity joined her.

"Looks like bulk garbage day," he remarked.

"AKA, free loot for us," Carrie stated, handing him a large plastic bin with a wicker pattern with a large crack through the side. "Put that in the truck bed."

"Again...why?"

"I'm gonna fix it up and turn it into a planter for those tomato plants MeeMaw sent us," she replied. "And this dresser is gonna make an excellent make-up table for me," she said, pulling out a dresser with missing middle drawers and boards that used to hold up a mirror.

"You?" Which earned him a glared so he tried to wave off her ire. "Look blossom, I love you, but you don't strike me as the handy type."

"Rich people throw shit out that could be easily fixed or even improved-trust me I know," Carrie replied. "I always wanted to save the stuff my neighbours tossed, but I worried it would look bad. Now I don't care. Plus I had the top grade in shop class-I know my way around a saw."

"I'm no good with tools but I'm a fair hand with a paint brush if you want the help," Reggie offered. "But I draw the line at you bringing in anything with fabric-I doubt either of us want bedbugs."

"Fair enough," Carrie conceded. But she did insist on stopping at a few other places that had interesting pieces laying out.

At home they laid out their treasures, and Carrie went to town caulking, sawing, and hammering away. Reggie sanded and primed what he could, and even surprised Carrie with a thrifted art deco mirror to attach to her new make-up table.

An action that delayed their upcycling, but neither of them minded the break.

"Do you want everything pink?" Reggie asked as he drove to the store to pick out colours.

"I'd rather that to beige or other neutrals, but I'm thinking maybe a nice pastel for the flower bed?"

"Sounds good."

Carrie got to watch Reggie spray and paint all afternoon-from a distance-because the man had seen too many rom-coms where playfully getting your partner with the brush when she would rather he didn't. But she was looking forward to helping him scrub the paint off him later in the shower.

"All done!" he proclaimed exuberantly. "When they're dry we can set everything up."

Later was the next day-they had gotten a little distracted in the shower and then the bed. But Carrie was delighted in her new make-up table, even gasping when Reggie showed her how he had set up little LEDs so the mirror lit up for her.

The planter was set up with tomatoes and a few herbs, plus a trellis they found had little pots of succulents was set up nearby. Neither of them had much of a green thumb, but they wanted to try growing something instead of spending a fortune at the farmer's market every week.

"So what did you think?" Carrie asked later that night as they kicked their feet up on the new coffee table they had fixed up.

"It was more fun than I thought," Reggie admitted. "Would be down to doing it again. But I'm still standing firm on my no bedbugs policy."

"But someone down the street had a thousand dollar couch out on the curb..." Carrie fake whined.

"No."

"I will keep it outside and clean it like a million times."

Reggie sighed, damning his weakness for her. "Fine, but if we get bugs, I reserve the right to tell you I told you so for a year."

"Good enough for me," Carrie stated. "You wanna go see if it's still there?"

"Might as well," Reggie said, heaving himself up off the couch. "It'll be gone if we wait."

Carrie squealed with glee and rushed towards the door, already having her mind race with ideas for her brand new couch.

[foggynitefic]

Drop Them Bones Chapter 8: Devil to Pay

Devil to Pay

Today the expression "devil to pay" is used primarily as a means of conveying an unpleasant and impending happening. Originally, this expression denoted a specific task aboard the ship such as caulking the ship's longest seam.

The "devil" was the longest seam on the wooden ship and caulking was done with "pay" or pitch. This grueling task of paying the devil was despised by every seaman and the expression came to denote any unpleasant task.

OOF. This chapter took a minute to write. It also just kept growing and comes in at a whopping 10,587 words. Most of the other chapters are between 5k and 7k words. If you're worried about this ending anytime soon, let me reassure you that I have bitten off enough to keep me chewing for quite some time. But I already have another 15k written, including the ending, so as these chapters grow like fungus, there is a road map, I promise.

Notes:

1. Not gonna lie, I made myself so hungry writing this, that I ordered sushi, takoyaki, and hamachi kama at 2200 two nights in a row on a holiday weekend. Pretty sure that restaurant either loves or hates me now, dudes.

2. How to fillet a tuna for sashimi:

3. I debated having Usopp's net catch go into a barrel of seawater, but I couldn’t find a lot of reliable research (quickly) as I was writing on the actual employment of that practice, just nostalgic tinged references to "oh yeah they did that in Ye Olden Days" without corroboration (yes, I know OP is about fantasy pirates on another planet). I did learn that Roman sailors may have used tanks to transport live fish over long distances.

4. The etymology of the terms “starboard” and “port”.

5. Applegators = alligators. Bananagators = crocodiles.

Recipes distressed in the making of this chapter:

Maguro no Zuke-Don: If you're working with raw sushi-grade fish, use it the day you get it, or cook it if you use it later. It will not taste the same once frozen and thawed. If you don't want to put too much effort in, there's multiple brands that do microwave sticky rice, and you can just buy a good furikake instead of cutting roasted seaweed (although that's pretty easy with cooking scissors) and sprinkling sesame seeds. Scallions make everything better. The marinade takes the most time - but I also cheat and use Otafuku okonomiyaki sauce from the Weee! app. Go lazy!

Seaweed sheets: You can do this. This is a life choice you can make. I haven't made it because ref. above paragraph on being lazy and outsourcing.

Roasted seaweed: If you want to try experimenting with different flavors, this is a good basic recipe to start.

Spanish Tuna Steaks: I'm not sure what noise my partner and Alton Brown would make at the instructions to press down on the tuna steaks to get a good sear, but otherwise this recipe is pretty standard and easy. Sanji embellished/supplemented with a bell pepper - you can probably put in any veggies that are about the same consistency of tomatoes' liquid/flesh and have it work.

Sauteed Green Beans: Usopp's reaction is mine. Green beans are a punishment. Just roast the clove of garlic in the oven and I'll eat that instead, don't waste it trying to flavor inedible grass. I included these to show their supply status and what would happen if someone didn't want to eat in Sanji's kitchen.

Mugicha: Much like making your own seaweed sheets, roasting your own barley is a life decision you can make. Itoen makes a highly convenient teabag version, if you're more inclined to outsource...

Soundtrack:

Sensing a theme this chapter??