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alwaysfeelingsaintlike · 4 years ago

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Charmed I’m Sure [G.W.]

Description: George is in desperate need of assistance with his Charms essay and he turns to you. Working together brings you closer than you expected.

Pairing: George Weasley x Gryffindor fem!reader

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I wrote a bunch of these short stories/one shots a while ago that I decided to post them on here! Keep in mind I wrote this one AGES ago, so I know this one isn’t great but it sets the scene for some of the others I have. As I post these, they should get better :) Also I’m new to posting fics on Tumblr so bear with me as a work the kinks out

“Hermione, please!?!?” You heard from across the common room.

“For the last time George, no! I will not write your Charms essay for you!” Hermione said.

“But it’s due tomorrow and I haven’t even started yet!”

“Sorry, that’s your problem. I’ve got other things to work on.” She left the common room and you chuckled quietly to yourself.

“Waiting until last minute again, are we?” you asked George. He gave you a look that said it all.

“If you’re going to give me the speech about being more responsible and managing my time more wisely you can just skip it because I’ve heard that one too many times.”

“Me lecture? Never.”

He rolled his eyes and you said, “Come here, what’s this essay about.”

He sat down next to you on the couch and said, “Y/N, you’re brilliant at Charms! Will you please write this for me!?”

“Write it for you? No. But I will help you with it.”

He hugged you suddenly and said, “Thank yoooooou!”

“Easy. You can thank me when you finish the essay. I think you’re putting a little too much faith in me. I’m a year behind you so I might not even know about what you’re learning.”

“Eh semantics,” he said nonchalantly and you gave him a skeptical look. But sure enough, it was a topic you were familiar with. You helped him form a thesis and explained some of the critical information he needed. He put quill to parchment as you verbally gave him some sentences to include. As you sat there with him, you noticed he started to form his own words on the subject and everything he was writing was accurate. He seemed to be comfortable working on his own, so you pulled out some of your own work but sat with him for moral support.

After several hours, he convinced you to take a break with him. He set aside his parchment and said, “So, Y/N. How have you been?”

“I am just peachy. Things have been going quite well for me recently.”

“Things always go your way. Your Irish blood brings you luck.”

You shrugged and said, “Is that why you wanted my help? Because I’m lucky?”

“No, it was more because you’re wicked smart. And I missed talking to you. I haven’t seen you much this year.”

“Yeah I guess it has been a while. It’s mostly because you and Fred are always working on a prank of some sort.”

“And you’re always talking to someone different, Miss Socialite.”

“Oh that is not true. I’m just friendly.”

“Sure,” he said with an eye roll.

“Any good pranks in the works?”

“Y/N,” he chucked, “I know that you’re dying to be a part of one of our infamous pranks, but I don’t think you’re qualified.”

“I think you’re underestimating me. Think about it, filling me in on a prank would be very beneficial for you.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Because I’m logical and detail oriented. I think of everything, therefore there would be no chance of error. And, you know, I’m fun to be around.”

“I will agree with you on the latter part. We do need to hang out more. Outside of quidditch.”

“Well you should remember that and ask me to hang out sometime. I’m sure you’d much rather spend time with me while we’re doing something fun instead of writing an essay. And speaking of essay...” George groaned and went back to his books.

“Come on, you only have a few paragraphs left to write.” He started writing again and you looked up at the clock and noticed it was 2AM. You let out a big yawn and felt yourself become tired immediately.

“You sound tired. You should go to bed. I don’t have much left to write, I can handle it,” he said.

You shook your head and replied, “No, I’m okay. I’ll stay up with you.”

“It’s good enough as it is. I can bullshit the next few paragraphs.”

“Nope. I’m staying here. If I leave, who's to say you won’t fall asleep?”

“Yeah, fair point.”

By this time the two of you were sitting on the ground in the common room with your books sprawled out and your backs leaning against the couch, directly in front of the fireplace. You started getting cold so you grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders. As you continued your reading assignment, you kept checking in on George to make sure he was getting work done.

“How’s it going?” you asked.

“I’m just trying to get this thing done. I don’t care how good my writing is as long as I get my point across.”

“Okay,” you yawned. A moment later you found your head was resting on his left shoulder. He noticed but he didn’t seem to mind. Soon you felt your eyelids flutter over your eyes and you were out.

You woke up the next morning and found yourself in a room that was not your own. It was not the common room either. It was definitely a dorm but whose, you weren’t sure.

“Morning sunshine,” someone said. You looked up to find George’s face smiling down at you.

“Morning,” you mustered, as enthusiastically as you could. “Where am I exactly?”

“In my room. See last night you fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you. I was going to carry you to your room but that wasn’t an option, with the enchantments and all. So I just took you to the next place I could think of, which was here.”

“You could have woken me up. Or just left me on the couch in the common room, you know?”

“Sure I could’ve, but you looked so peaceful sleeping. I couldn’t bring myself to wake you. And the common room was a bit nippy. I just thought you’d be more comfortable in my bed.”

“Well that was very sweet of you. But where did you sleep?”

“On the floor. I grabbed some spare pillows and blankets and-”

“George! You didn’t have to sleep on the floor. You really should have just left me in the common room. I would’ve been fine. I never meant to take your bed.”

“I just wanted you to be comfortable. Any gentleman would have done the same thing. Now please stop arguing with me because there isn’t anything you can do to change it.”

You opened your mouth to say something but found you had nothing to say. Instead, you slouched and crossed your arms, clearly annoyed with his previous statement.

“How did the essay come out?”

“I showed it to Hermione already and she said it looked decent. I just need a passing grade. If I pass this, I pass the class.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize this paper was so important...”

“You did all you could. Most of it was on me, for being a slacker. But thank you. I’m really happy we got to hang out for a bit last night.”

You smiled at him. “Me too. And it’s no problem. Really.”

You left his room and headed to your room, receiving a few curious looks on the way. Last night made you realize how much you had missed George. You used to be best friends growing up, but recently you drifted apart. You were still friends, but nowhere near as close as you used to be. You only hoped he would take your advice and ask you to hang out soon.

“Y/N!” You turned around to see who was calling you. It was George and he seemed very excited about something. You excused yourself from your current conversation and headed to see George.

“Y/N! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“Oh have you?”

“Yes! Guess what?”

“Do you really want me to guess? Because I’m not a great guesser.”

“I got my paper back and I got an O!”

“O as in outstanding!? That’s amazing!”

“I owe it all to you! You practically wrote the paper for me.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You did all the heavy lifting on that paper. I was just there for moral support.”

“You really don’t understand do you? You are the reason I passed! I couldn’t have done this without you”

“I’m really happy for you George! I can’t remember the last time I saw you this excited.”

“I am over the moon!” He embraced you in a hug and picked you up off the ground and spun you around. When he finally put you down, you just smiled at him. Then the last thing you ever expected to happen happened. His face became suddenly serious and he leaned in and kissed you. It was a relatively short kiss. It seemed like he just did it without thinking because he quickly pulled back and his face was that of panic and shock.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what-” he started, before you cut him off. You grabbed his tie and pulled him down towards you to kiss him again, this time more passionately. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you reacted by snaking your arms around his neck.

George pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he breathed.

“Well good, because you’re about to do it again.”

#george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley x fem!reader #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #george weasley fanfic #weasley twins fanfic #george weasley one shot #hp fanfic

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dlwritings · 4 years ago

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Firecracker Soul | Dean Winchester

Chapter 22 - Sorry

pairing - mob!Dean x teacher!ofc

word count - 3,950

warnings - language, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (cover your stump before you hump), daddy kink

additional notes at the end

(previous)

Alice didn't sleep at all the night after the Ben Platt concert. Part of her wished she hadn't blown up at Dean, but another part of her was still frustrated and hurt. Why did Dean have to be so complicated? Why did she have to get involved with someone who made such simple things so difficult?

She made herself a cup of tea and headed out to her balcony. It was small -nothing compared to Dean's- but it was hers, and she liked it. She wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and sat on the outdoor chair. With her legs tucked under her, she brought her mug to her lips. She wasn't even slightly tired, and it was after midnight. She was usually fast asleep by then. Her mind just kept running in circles. She liked Dean. She really did. She just couldn't stay in a relationship with someone who didn't understand how relationships worked. Was it her job to teach him? Was she making all of this more complicated than she needed to?

Naturally, when she met Christine for breakfast, she asked her.

"He thinks I overuse the word normal," she told her. "Like there's no such thing as normal. But there is. I think I deserve to be in a normal relationship at least once in my life. Greg definitely wasn't normal, and I guess I thought Dean was."

"You thought he would be normal even after he told you he was a mob boss?" Christine asked. "You still thought he might be normal?"

"I guess I did," she said with a sigh. She yawned and took another sip of her coffee.

"No offense," Christine said, "but you look awful."

"I didn't sleep last night," she answered.

"At all?"

"No," Alice said with another sigh. "Just couldn't. Couldn't turn my mind off."

"Alice," Christine sighed. "Don't start this."

"Start what?" she said.

"You gotta take care of yourself," she said. "When everything started with Greg, you did this same thing. You would call me constantly at, like, 2AM."

"I know," she said. "It's just hard."

Christine nodded. "Do you want to forgive him?"

"Of course I do," she said. "I just want him to be sorry. To actually be sorry. You know, I don't even think he said the words yesterday. He just, like, paid me off." Christine was quiet. She licked her lips and looked down at her coffee cup. "What're you thinking?" Alice asked. "You have that look."

Christine sighed. "I know I only met him once, but from what you say of him, it really seems like he cares about you. I think he just doesn't know how to express it."

"God," Alice mumbled, rubbing her temples. "Jess said the same thing."

"Do you not agree?" Christine asked.

"I don't know," she groaned. "I'm just trying to weigh if he's worth the effort I'm putting into this."

"What's your gut telling you?" she asked. Alice raised her eyebrows.

"My gut?" she repeated.

"Yeah," she said. "You know, you've got to feel this in your stomach. Is he worth it, or is he not?"

"I don't know," Alice said, shaking her head. "I don't know, okay?"

"It's because you're thinking too much," Christine said. "Don't think, just say it. Is he worth it, yes or no?"

"Yes!" she blurted out. Christine smirked and folded her arms across her chest, leaning back in her seat. "Wow," Alice said, impressed. "Where'd you learn that?"

"The Office," Christine said.

"Of course," Alice said. "Of course that's where you learned it."

Family dinner was at Cas and Hannah's on Saturday, and Dean wished he could skip it. Still, he knew the rules. Only sickness could excuse a family dinner absence, and he couldn't fake that. He supposed he just had too much of a conscience. So, he showed up to dinner with store bought cookies and greeted everyone half heartedly.

As Dean made his way to the alcohol, he missed the looks everyone shared behind his back. Everyone expected things to have been better between Dean and Alice by then. Hannah even got a plate out for her. They knew he planned to apologize to her on Friday, so what had gone so wrong?

Dean avoided the topic of Alice all throughout dinner, and he had no intention of sticking around for the usual after-meal drinks to talk it out. The others, of course, noticed, and weren't going to let him go that easy.

"Nah, nah," Sam said, waving his hand at Dean. "Sit down."

"I've got things to do," Dean said.

"Bullshit," Sam said. "Talk to your family about your problems."

"You can't not bring her and not expect us to ask why," Cas said.

"You guys were hot and heavy for, like, two months straight," Jess said. "And now you're not talking? I thought you were apologizing yesterday."

"I did!" he said, plopping back down on the seat in annoyance. "You know what I did? I got her favorite singer to come perform for us on the terrace. Do you know how much that cost me? A lot. It cost me a lot. And the whole time, I thought things were better, but she was still mad. What more could I have done?"

"Wait, are you being serious?" Hannah asked. Dean furrowed his eyebrows, shook his head, and shrugged.

"Yeah?" he said.

"Dean," Jess said with a laugh of disbelief, "you're really shit at problem solving, you know that?" He was genuinely confused as he looked at her. "You can't just buy her things and expect everything to be better," she said. "Not everything needs a big, grand gesture. Sometimes, all she wants is for you to say I'm sorry."

"I did say I'm sorry," he said.

"Did you?" Sam asked. Dean opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"Yes?" he finally said.

"Dude," Sam said with a laugh. "Come on."

"I'm sure I apologized after our fight when she fell in the pool," he said. "And that was after I brought flowers to her work. So what did I do wrong there? She was mad about that too."

"It's like I said," Jess said, "not everything needs a grand gesture. Apologies like that seem like they're more about you looking good than you actually being sorry."

"They look ingenuine," Hannah simplified.

"What, so you think she doesn't even think I'm sorry?" he asked. The others were quiet, and Jess shrugged. Dean groaned in annoyance and ran his hands through his hair. "Fuck," he muttered. "Why are relationships so complicated? Nothing was this hard with Lisa."

"You can't compare relationships," Sam said as the others made various expressions of agreement.

"That's a rabbit hole you cannot go down," Jess said. "No two relationships are the same because no two women are the same." Dean groaned and downed the rest of his whiskey.

"So how the fuck am I suppose to fix this?" he said.

"Do you want to fix this?" Sam asked.

"Of course I do," Dean said. "I like her. It's just that every time I do anything, it only makes everything worse. It's not that I'm not trying. I just don't think I know how to do this right."

"Well," Cas said, "there's this thing called talking. That might be a good way to start."

"Fuck off," Dean said, rubbing his temples.

"He's right," Hannah said. "Just talk to her."

"How?" Dean said. "It's not like she's gonna answer my calls." Everyone was quiet for a moment.

"Okay," Jess said with a sigh, "normally I wouldn't condone this, but there is a way to balance a grand gesture and a normal conversation."

"And you think that's what I should do?" he said. Jess looked at the others as if searching for their agreement. She must've gotten the response she wanted.

"Here's what I think you should do."

A few weeks passed, and Alice was on her way to her eight-week prenatal appointment. It was a Friday, so she decided to take the whole day off, even though the appointment was in the late afternoon. She knew she wouldn't be able to have a good day or do anything productive when she'd be thinking about the appointment all day.

She met up with Jess before the appointment for lunch at Panera. "How're you doing?" Jess asked as soon as they sat at their table.

"Nervous," she admitted. "But kind of excited too."

"Good," Jess said. "You should be. This is an exciting time. They'll even do an ultrasound today. You'll get your first little glimpse at the baby."

"I know," Alice said. "I googled a bunch of stuff."

When they got to the appointment, everything went as she expected: a general health exam, urine test, bloodwork, genetic carrier screening, STD tests, pap smear, and a blood sugar test. Based on the information Alice shared with Dr. Montgomery, she was able to estimate a due date. "So, this little kiddo is going to be due on June 30, 2021."

"That feels so far away," Alice said, putting her hands on her stomach.

"It'll go by before you know it," Dr. Montgomery said. "Should we do an ultrasound?"

Alice nodded, and Jess squeezed her hand as Dr. Montgomery began the process. The jelly was cold on her stomach, and she couldn't help but jump. Everyone chuckled, and Alice sighed and laid her head back on the medical chair. A few minutes went by, and Dr. Montgomery turned the screen to face Alice and Jess. "That right there," she said, pointing to the blurry blob in the middle of her uterus, "is little Baby Berkley."

"Really?" Alice whispered, tears blurring her eyes.

"Yup," Dr. Montgomery said. "It's about half an inch long. No bigger than a raspberry."

"It's perfect," she said, tears flowing from her eyes. "It's so beautiful."

"Beautiful and healthy," Dr. Montgomery added. "Things are looking good."

They chatted for a while more about what Alice was to expect during the pregnancy and after. By the time the appointment was done, Alice was exhausted. Her brain was overloaded with information, and she felt like every time she exhaled she would lose some of it. Once again, she was glad she had Jess. "Thank you for coming," Alice said, "again."

"Of course," Jess said. "Like I told you, I'll be with you this whole way."

"I appreciate it," she said. "Do you want to come over for a bit? Hannah and Christine can come too. We can watch some movies or-"

"Oh, I would love to," Jess said, "but Sam and I already made dinner plans."

"Oh," Alice said, trying not to sound too disappointed. "Of course."

"Seriously though," Jess said quickly, "we should do that sometime. That sounds like fun." Alice nodded, and the two got into their cars and parted ways.

Alice walked into her apartment and kicked her shoes off. Her feet were killing her, and she was hungry, but she didn't want to take the time to make anything. Seemed like it'd be a night of ramen noodles and whatever cheap wine she had on hand. She hadn't had a night like that since she started dating Dean. God. What had her life become?

When she got into her room, she let out a shriek and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Dean," she breathed out. "You scared the crap out of me."

Once the shock wore off, she took in the scene in front of her. Dean was wearing sweats and a t-shirt and was sitting on a blanket that he laid out on the floor. There was a box of pizza from her favorite pizza place and a plate of chocolate covered strawberries. She could feel tears pooling in her eyes. "What's all this?" she asked.

"Shit, shit," Dean said, standing up and stepping over to her. "Fuck, you're crying. Did I get the wrong pizza? Is it-"

"No, no," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I just-" She let out a soft laugh. "What's going on?" Dean scratched the back of his neck.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry," he said. "For everything. For getting that man killed, for when I blew up about Lisa, for dealing with Brent without talking to you first, and for what I did at the party. And I'm sorry I try to make things better with money and sex and violence instead of with words. You're right. I'm not good at this, and I'm not normal. I don't know how to be in a real relationship, because I haven't been in one in a really long time. I know I can be possessive and disrespectful, and I am so sorry. I do stupid shit because I don't know how to handle the way I feel about you sometimes, and I just worry. I-" He hesitated. "I lost my cool at the party. And I'm honestly, truly sorry."

"S'okay," she mumbled, hanging her head. Dean sighed, shook his head, and closed the space between them in a few steps. He looked down at her and lifted her chin.

"I know I've been hurting you," he said. "And I know I scared you at the party. And I'm so, so sorry for that. I need to learn to talk instead of just act on all my feelings. But I'm gonna learn, okay? I'm gonna make this better." She smiled at him, and he wiped away a tear that had fallen from her eye. "You know, I may not be wise," he said, "and I won't always save the day."

She couldn't help but giggle at the way he managed to fit a Ben Platt lyric into the conversation like a dork. He smiled softly. God, he missed that sound.

"But I won't run away," he whispered. "And I won't let you run away either."

"I don't want to run away," she said, putting her hands on his cheeks. "I really like you, Dean. And I appreciate all of this. It means so, so much."

"Yeah?" he said.

"Yeah," she repeated. "Thank you for this."

"Of course," he said. He pinched her chin lightly. "Can I kiss you?"

Alice giggled. "Yeah. Yeah, you can kiss me."

Dean smiled, tilted his head down, and pressed his lips to hers. She kissed him softly back. The kiss didn't last very long, and when they pulled away, Alice looked down at the mini picnic Dean had set up. "This looks great," she said. "You got my favorite pizza."

"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was hoping I got it right."

"You did," she said. "I want to change out of this outfit first." Dean nodded, so she went into her drawers to get some comfier clothes. She grabbed a pair of pajama bottoms and the Zeppelin t-shirt she stole from Dean and didn't bother going into the bathroom to change. Dean swallowed thickly and forced himself to look away from her. Not everything was about sex.

When she sat down beside him, she reached for a slice of pizza. Dean smiled and did the same. "So," she said, turning to face him and crossing her legs, "what's up?"

"What's up?" he repeated with a chuckle.

"Yeah," she said. "I miss you."

"I'm right here," he said.

"Shut up," she giggled, rolling her eyes at him. "I just mean we didn't talk for a while, and I want to know how you are. How's Jack doing? Or can you not talk about it?"

He shrugged and took another bite of his pizza. "I don't get to talk to him that much," he said, "for obvious reasons. He calls from a payphone to a different burner phone of mine as often as he can. So far, he's just trying to blend in. We have the location of his base -like, his equivalent to our bunker- which is awesome."

"Seriously?" she said.

"Mhm," he hummed, wiping his mouth on a napkin.

"Are you gonna go there?" she asked.

"No," Dean said. "We don't want to ambush the whole place. We just want to get him."

"If you get him, does his family fall apart?" she asked.

"No," Dean said again, this time with a sigh. "His underboss will take over."

"So why don't you just take out his whole family?" she said.

Dean chuckled. "Because then we'd be talking mass murder, and I don't think we really want to do that."

"So what's the point of taking out Lucifer?" she asked. "If someone else takes over, don't you just think the next boss will have it out for you? If you take out a boss, you'll start a war." He looked at her in amusement.

"Where'd you hear that?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I might've watched Goodfellas to learn about your career."

"Alice!" Dean laughed.

"It was very violent!"

"Yeah, it is," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're such a dork. You could've just asked me, you know."

"I know," she said. "But I wanted to randomly share some mob knowledge and impress you." She paused and fluttered her eyelashes. "Did it work?"

"Oh yeah," Dean said. "I'm very impressed." Alice giggled and reached out to scratch her nails across his beard. Dean hummed and leaned into her touch. He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. "I missed you," he muttered against her hand.

She smiled. "I missed you too, Dean." When he smiled back at her, she stood up from the ground and stuck her hand out to him. He furrowed his eyebrows but took it and got up from the ground. Barely giving him a chance to get his balance, Alice stood on her tip-toes and pressed her lips to his. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, then lifted her thighs and wrapped them around his waist. He walked them over to the bed and dropped her onto it. She giggled as she bounced on the mattress, and he laughed as well and pulled his shirt over his head.

Dean licked his lips and scratched his beard, letting his eyes rake over Alice's body. Her cheeks flushed, and she held her arms out to him. "C'mere," she said. He smiled and crawled over to her, and she moved her hands to his cheeks to bring him down for a kiss. She kissed across his cheek and to his ear, nibbling his earlobe.

Alright, if Dean was going to try and communicate better in their relationship, so could she.

"I want you inside me, Dean," she whispered.

"Fuck," he breathed out, hanging his head with a smile of disbelief. "I think that's the hottest thing you've ever said to me." She smiled as she kissed his neck.

"Please, daddy," she whispered. He groaned as she sucked a mark onto his skin. He pulled away and made her sit up so he could pull her shirt over her head. She had taken off her bra when she came home, so her tits were bare to him.

"I could look at you all day," he muttered, licking his lips and running his hands up her torso to her tits, gripping them in his hands and pinching her nipples. A whine rose up the back of her throat as she arched her back against his hands.

"Dean," she whispered.

"I'm gonna eat your pretty pussy first, okay?" he said, kissing down her neck and across her chest. He trapped her nipple between his lips, sucking it until it was hard, then he moved onto the other. He kissed down her torso and to the waistband of her pajama pants. Once they were off, he captured her panties between his teeth and tugged them down her legs. He tossed them aside and pushed her legs apart, then kissed up her thighs. "God," he muttered, "I missed this pussy." She put her arms over her face when he spoke, and then sighed when he dipped his tongue past her folds.

He always knew exactly what ways to move to make her toes curl. Between slow, kitten licks and swirling circles around her clit, she was gripping his hair in her fists in no time. When his finger started teasing her opening, she lifted her hips to get closer to him. "So needy for daddy," he teased. She just nodded, and he smiled and pushed his finger inside her. He moved it in and out of her slowly, bringing his mouth to her clit. He sucked it between his lips, letting his tongue flick at it as he eased another finger inside her.

"Dean," she said for the second time. "I wanna cum."

"I know, sweetheart," he said. "You're right there. Let go. Cum for daddy." She nodded and felt her breath catch in her throat as she tilted her head into the pillow and came around Dean's fingers. He kept moving them, slowing down so she could come down from her high. "So pretty when you cum," he said, kissing up her body again until he reached her lips. She kissed him back, her teeth clashing with his. "Hey, hey, slow down," Dean said with a chuckle, pulling away. She kept her eyes closed until Dean put his hand on her chin. "I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart," he said. "We can take this nice and slow."

"I know," she whispered. "I know. I just-" She sighed and licked her lips. "Dean, I missed you. I want you."

A smile grew on his lips again. "Okay."

He sat back on his heels and tugged his sweats off, letting his boxers follow. When his cock sprang up, Alice bit her lip, which made Dean smile as he gripped his cock. He pumped it before rubbing the head across her folds. Every time it brushed against her clit, she would jump and dig her nails into his shoulder. Dean took the not-so-subtle hint and slid into her. He hesitated a moment, giving her time to adjust before moving his hips back and thrusting into her again. Her lips parted as she tilted her head back into the pillow again. He grabbed her hand and laced his fingers with hers before leaning down to kiss her lips. He was always able to maintain a steady, back-arching rhythm with her that hit in all the right places. He was so big, and the drag of his cock against her walls made her whimper against his lips. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her heels into his lower back. She wanted him closer. Deeper.

So she decided to take control.

She used all her strength to turn her and Dean over so he was on his back. He sat up, and she situated herself on his cock, wrapping her whole body around his. She could feel his cock in the deepest part of her, and his pelvic bone brushed against her clit. She gripped onto him like her life depended on it, burying her face in his shoulder. Dean put his hands on her waist and helped her move against his cock, grinding in the most pleasurable motion. Her breath caught in her throat as her nails ran deep scratches up his back. When his cock hit her g-spot one final time, she came around him with a loud moan, only slightly muffled by her mouth resting against his skin. Dean came right after, shooting his load inside her.

They stayed wrapped in each other's arms again, Alice kissing his shoulder. "I'm glad you're back, sweetheart," Dean whispered.

"Mm," she hummed, kissing his skin again. "I'm glad you're back."

Dean chuckled. "And I'm not going anywhere ever again."

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#dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x ofc #original female character #ofc #supernatural #supernatural au #mob!dean #mob au #mafia au #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic #firecracker soul

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zesbian · 5 years ago

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I’m mobile so I can’t do a read more and not quite sure how to tw tag this so ya know fair warning cause it’s detailed and long and might be triggering in some parts but I’ve got to get this out cause it’s 2am and I hate everything

tw weight loss, tw chronic illness, tw body image

so like when I was in like middle school I grew a bit and lost what I had assumed was baby fat (cause I’d always been a cute lil chubby kid) but I kept losing weight and when I was in high school I weighed like 100-110 lbs by my sophomore year, which is like Not Good cause I also had a bunch of stomach issues that was later diagnosed as crohns. so like I was being treated for it my senior year and I was also starting to develop curves so I was pretty thin but like slowly getting a small cute lil ass and I was like rly into the way my body looked in comparison to the year before where I was extremely sickly and thin and made fun of constantly, (like ppl made anorexic jokes and even tried to straight up imply it and all sorts of other mean and hurtful shit) it made me feel awful but in a weird lonely way I was kind of into it cause at least people were talking? If that makes sense? But yeah I was missing a lot of school as well because I’d either be at doctors appts or staying home because I had thrown up the night before (and that 24 hours rule was a thing so I couldn’t come in) or even just cause I’d been up all night with stomach pains and I was too tired to go to class. so all these things combined made me feel extremely insecure, as Crohns itself is an invisible illness until the symptoms of weight loss come into play, and things like visible signs of dehydration, etc. and like yes obvs worth is not connected to weight but when you’ve got a gastrointestinal disease that literally causes your weight to rapidly fluctuate then you start to think “my weight equals wether or not people think I’m weak or dying, people can tell how sick I am”. that’s a LOT for a high school girl to take in, esp when that’s a period where everyone is constantly seeking visual approval. so I got used to being skinny, even though I knew that the skinner I was, the more likely my crohns was slipping back into the “severe” category. by college, id basically started to gain all my healthy weight back, but the more I saw my hips fill in or my stomach get it’s rolls back (id never had muscle, just been soft), I’d start to think “yes I’m healthy, but now I’m not thin anymore?” which is obvs a rly toxic way of thinking but by then it had been ingrained in me that I was the Thin Sick Girl, and of begun to associate that body type with my personality, which is def a red flag and I knew that but I didn’t care really. so sometimes when I saw myself getting soft again, I’d skip eating for a day. it was never to the point of an eating disorder (although I had my concerns at some points; def some aspects of wanting control in there) but I did find myself slipping into that way of thinking and even occasionally sneaking looks at p*o-a*a content; which I am not proud of, but you gotta understand that this was a form of self harm. I was harming myself for becoming healthy, which is just so fucked up looking back but whatever. anyways it’s been a while since I’ve done that sort of thing, and I’d even gotten used to my healthy weight and was proud that I’d finally gotten past 120-130 lbs!!!! which is a big fucking deal and so good!!!!! but a month ago I started taking vyvanse for my adhd and one of the symptoms is weight loss cause it’s an appetite suppressant and I didn’t rly notice I was skipping meals and feeling sick until I went to the psych yesterday and she weighed me (cause of the side effects) and I weigh 110 lbs again. and I’ve been feeling so faint and getting migraines and if I try to eat like I used to then I get nauseous so I think my stomach has shrunken and it feels so much like before cause im skipping everything except breakfast and/or I’m drinking coffee as meals and I’m so tired and I fucking hate this cause all my hard healthy work went down the drain and I’m so scared I’m gonna start slipping back into that weight related self harm again and this time it’s cause of a medication that’s improving my life in literally every other way except this one thing and I’m so so tired of being sick and having to try so many different medications

#tw weight loss #tw body image

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frangipanidownunder · 6 years ago

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Would you write a sequel to your last One Son fic, maybe before The Unnatural where Mulder tries to apologize? Your fic hurt me in the best kind of way.

Healing: fic

A/N You can read the original fic Superficial Burns but you don’t have to read it to understand this sequel, but it might help.

Thanks for the prompt, anon. This is set post One Son through to The Unnatural.

They play house too soon. He presses to share the master bedroom,“to add authenticity”, but she pushes him out. She’s being petty, she knows, pointingout toothpaste tube and toilet seat misdemeanours. Still, he’s genuinely playful,attentive for a while, but she flips her gloves at him, bats away thecamcorder, turns her cheek as he goes to kiss her. Ironically, their discordonly gives them more authenticity as a couple.

She shut him out and sheshouldn’t have been surprised when he drops her home and doesn’t ask to carryher bag up. Her apartment is as empty as she feels. She goes to bed and punishesherself with the desperate noise he made when he came inside her, the way hislips pressed against the juncture of her jaw and ear lobe, the slow opening ofhis eyes, pupils dilated, surprise followed by awe followed by guilt.

She should have quit. She shouldhave walked away. He did.

Arthur Dales tells Mulder she saved his life, that she issavvy and Mulder has the good grace to look contrite. He’s mysterious about therobbery in the bank, about how he knew the female accomplice. He rambles onabout déjà vu and Scully can’t help but review the past through the lens of thepresent. Like the memory of their frantic coupling in her kitchen is trapped inthe wrong spot in her brain. Like if it only happened yesterday, she would saysomething to him, he would say something to her.

And then he admits to an onlinefriendship with Karin Berquist, a woman enamoured of him yet he acts like hecan’t see it. She wonders just how ignorant he can really be.

He fucked her in her apartmentand hasn’t talked about it since.

She saves a boy in a phonebooth.Saves a child. What she can’t do is save herself. Padgett’s words burn throughher. Agent Scully is already in love.She hates it. She fucking hates that it’s someone else telling her the secretsof her own heart. And that it is so fucking obvious.

She should have quit.

After, Mulderbooks a motel room. He won’t leave her alone. Part of her wants to yell at himthat he’s as bad as Padgett, always there, hovering. He keeps looking at herchest like there’s a gaping hole there. It’s not that her heart is missing,that’s the thing. It’s that it’s still there. Beating. Full of a secret, hersecret. And she’s sure he can see it.

“Scully,there’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you for a while,” he says buthe’s lying across the bed with his long legs stretched out and his tee clingingto his frame and that soft expression he wears when he’s off the clock.

“I’mtired.” She sounds like Laura Petrie.

His lipspush out and his eyes flick to the television screen briefly. When he turnsback to look at her he sits up and rests his elbows on his knees, rubbing atthe back of his hair. He’s tired too. “I thought I’d lost you,” he says and he’salready taking a huge gulp of air in. He slaps the bed linen and she sees thathe is trembling. “I thought you were dead. In my apartment. On my floor. Yourheart gone.”

“I’mfine, Mulder.” She’ll always be fine. Heart or not.

Hecovers his face with his hands. Beautiful long fingers. His strangled moan is ashock. For a split second she thinks he’s weeping, but when his hands fallaway, his eyes are dry and angry. “You’re fine,” he says. “Well, that makes itall right.” The low rumbling is not, she finds out, on the television. It iscoming from him.

Sheslips under the covers of her bed and turns out the lamp. He doesn’t move. Justgrowls like a wounded, angry Alpha.

The case in Las Vegas is nothing but a fever dream. Mulderpries her for more information but she can’t tell him anything. He accepts it,offers to buy her a bagel.

“Realcream cheese,” he says and she laughs. It feels like her heart is beating to adifferent rhythm. A lighter one.

Thediner is too shiny but she lets him yammer on as she tries to hide her eyesfrom the brightness. The bagel is good. Mulder is relaxed, smiling. These arethe times she knows she’ll never quit. He sips his second coffee so slowly shebegins to wonder if he’s building up to something.

“You okay,Mulder?”

He looksout to the street where an old couple wander past, arm in arm. “They seem happytogether,” he says. “How do you suppose that feels?”

“Are youreally asking my expert opinion on the longevity of relationships, Mulder?”

Hisfingers thrum on the table top, scattering grains of sugar. He chuckles. “We’reshit at this, aren’t we Scully?”

“This?”

“Talking.”

“Ah,yes. That.”

He doesthat slow blink again and she sees them in her apartment, rutting. Baseemotion. Need. The burn on her fingers.

“Ishould have told you earlier, after…you know…that night. I was out of line.What I said to you about making it personal. Diana…she believes in me and I…”

“Ibelieve in you, Mulder.” She stands up. He says nothing more. No scramblingbackwards, no apology, nothing. He fucked her in her apartment and then walkedaway. She holds his gaze just enough to make his lips press together. “I alwayshave.”

He letsher leave. She should have quit.

He callsher later. Wants to come round. She tells him she’s busy. He whispers a sorryas she cuts him off. He arrives 30 minutes later. He walks past her, goes tothe kitchen. To the same spot.

“Why areyou here, Mulder?”

Hestands where he stood, where he put his hands on her. Where she unzipped hispants and he bunched up her skirt. “You said that before,” he says, “And thenwe…”

Shefolds her arms around her ribs. Covers her heart. “Fucked.”

Heflinches.

“It’swhat we did, Mulder. You could hardly ascribe a more romantic name to it. Didyou tell Diana?”

“What?No!”

His too-quickoutburst makes her feel unexpectedly superior. He fucked her and walked away.And maybe he has pushed it deep inside ever since, too.

Hescratches his chin. “I stood outside your building for ten minutes that night, arguingwith myself about whether to turn round and go back to you.”

“You’repretty hard to argue against,” she says. “You have this way of twistingeverything into the neat theory you’ve already designed.”

“Scully.”It’s more resignation than warning. He leans back against the counter, one kneebent towards her. “I came here to say what I should have said then. That I’msorry I said that to you, about Diana. That I should never have reduced yourinput into our partnership to something purely emotional. I…” His hand slamshis bent thigh. “I am sorry, Scully. Truly. I never meant it to happen…”

“Youneed to leave.”

“Thatway,” he adds but he’s already nearly at the door. He looks back, framed in thedoorway. “I never meant it to happen that way, Scully. You mean more to me thanthat, much more.”

He shutsthe door and she leans against it listening to him leave again. Footstepsfading. He won’t wait outside tonight.

Shetries to sleep but her skin is crawling, burning. Her heart is red hot andheavy in her chest. She imagines strips of it peeling away, shavings of herlove falling deep into an empty cavity. But this time, she doesn’t think sheshould have quit. She knows she can never.

At 2am she drives across town.She knocks quietly. On his couch, he is backlit by the soft ocean colours ofhis fish tank. His stubble cuts a line across his jaw that is as sharp as thestabbing in her chest. Her fingers slide in and out of each other, knucklesrubbing together.

“You mean more to me too, Mulder,”she says. “And I’m sorry for asking you to leave. I…” she licks the dry patch onher lip and the couch creaks as he stands up. “I just wanted to say I’m sorrytoo. I am not good at this.” There is a tear building at the corner of one eye.It’s a weakness she dislikes. A demonstration of her vulnerability that she’sspent years trying to overcome. But he presses his thumb to it, collects hersoftness and lets it run down his wrist.

“Can we start again?”

“Ignore six years of partnership?”

His hand is a familiar comfort onher lower back as he urges her to sit. “No, use six years of partnership to ouradvantage instead of using it as wedge between us.”

One of his mollies floats to theside of the tank and she watches its graceful fins and tail fluttering in thewater. “How do we do that?”

“Doing more of that thing we’reshit at?” He laughs and she cuffs away the tears streaking her cheeks.

“And Diana? Where does she fit inall this?”

He looks ahead, at the posters onhis wall that catch the passing headlights from the street below. “Where shealways did, Scully. In the past.”

They flirt over clichés in the basement office. When hegrapples her tofutti rice dreamsicle from her hands, their skin sparks togetherin way that tingles but doesn’t burn. He kisses her lips and tells her he’sgoing to see Arthur Dales.

“InFlorida?”

“No, he’shere in Washington.”

She watches him for a while. The ease with which he swingsthe bat. The movement of his shoulders. He’s in his element.

“So,uh… I get this message marked urgent on my answering service from one FoxMantle telling me to come down to the park for a very special very early orvery late birthday present. And, Mulder… I don’t see any nicely wrappedpresents lying around so, what gives?”

It’s notuntil he tells her to “get over here, Scully,” she fully understands what thisis. Sure, it’s baseball. Sure, they flirt. Sure, it’s a date, Mulder-style. Butit’s more than the sum of its parts.

It’shealing.

#txf fanfic #my fanfiction #angst #fictober #post one son pre the unnatural

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buddhasfanficdictatorship · 6 years ago

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Fanfic Progress Update: What I’ve Been Dealing With edition (Part 1 of 2)

Been awhile since I did this, but I had no news to report until recently. Buckle up, because there’s a bunch I need to say. I’m going to break the update in two, the first half detailing what I’ve been dealing with up to this point and the second part with my plans going forward, the actual status of my fics and where I go from here.

A side note first; I purged everything NSFW from here just to be safe, and won’t be posting links to NSFW fics here anymore. I don’t trust Tumblr one bit and I’m not taking chances. I’d leave, but there aren’t any good alternatives. I’ll still post SFW chapters and updates and other stuff though.

Also, sometime soon I’ll be posting a link here and on AO3 to a Google Doc with my current fic statuses and a list of my future plans and ideas. One handy masterlist of all my fics, current and planned, for readers to keep up to date with what I’m currently working on, what’s on hiatus, and ideas in store for the future.

NOW on to more important matters. I have some good news for once. The two worst units in my apartment complex got evicted at last after a YEAR of me begging, demanding, and pressuring the landlord to kick them out. Since my last update things initially had actually gotten worse before this surprise. The violent drunk who lived next door threatened my mother and I on a few occasions and, among other things, repeatedly ripped our outside lightbulb from the socket and shattered it on the ground to intimidate us. His drunken rages and lashing out became even worse and more dangerous than it had, he started threatening anyone around, screaming and raving outside in the dead of night that he would shoot anyone who called the police. Even when the cops were called they never did anything, not one arrest. Landlord didn’t care either, wasn’t listening to our complaints. It was legitimately dangerous.

So because of all this I had to start walking my mom to the bus stop when she left for work in the morning, and I always carried a switch blade with me just when checking the mail or taking out the trash. That’s how bad things had become. I had given up all hope, NO ONE was doing anything.

I was going to post a video i took of this ridiculous nonsense but it was too large and didn’t know where else to link it. Oh well. Anyways, the woman he lived with would routinely lock him out when he left to buy booze in the night because he’s an abuser with a temper, trying to escape him but causing problems for everyone else around. And of course, being a dumbass, simply making off another key never came to mind for them. He would retaliate by standing outside all night screaming and threatening and trying to kick the door in. My walls would shake and pictures literally fell off the walls while he was pounding. You coudln’t just ignore it, he’s shouting death threats outside at 2AM. Forget about writing, I couldn’t even sleep or relax. Just constant tirades.

Imagine this crap, literally every. Single. Night. For nearly two years. I have almost a dozen videos (including screaming matches and fist fights too) I made towards the end over just one month, since the manager and police weren’t believing they were problems even when 5 different apartments said they needed to go. And for every vid I have there's a half dozen of these occasions I didn’t or couldn’t film over just that one month.

And if it wasn’t this asshole, it was the other group who partied outside all night long. Blaring music from 9 PM to 5 AM nearly every night outside in the complex courtyard. Getting into fistfights and shouting matches like a damn episode of Jerry Springer. Not the least bit of concern for their neighbors or common decency, complete and unredeemable pieces of shit.

So if you ever wonder why I couldn’t write, why I routinely broke promises for update timeframes, why my chapters became shorter and less polished, well THIS crap played a big part over the last year. And I lived RIGHT NEXT DOOR to this guy, our apartments share a deck entryway. A few times he was out there screaming that he had a gun and was going to shoot people. Police STILL didn’t arrest him. I was trapped for months and months suffering this, trying to deal with this.

This is part of the reason I went on hiatus. I struggled to sleep or get even a few quite minutes a day, let alone the focus and quiet I need to write. It was a constant party, a never ending nightmare day and night. This is why so many of my chapters were half finished and not to my standards in quality. I rushed and fumbled to produce things I was unhappy with to try and sate readers wants for more, but that always left me feeling worse, knowing I wasn’t producing content to my capabilities. That under-performing made me feel even more depressed. Not only did these people steal my sleep and patience and sanity and calm, they also robbed me of my creativity. My desire to write was torn away because some ignorant fucks had no concept that they weren’t the only people in the world. That MAYBE 2AM isn’t the time for a drunken party outside. Radical idea, I know.

Well both are gone now. I literally almost cried with joy. They FINALLY got evicted after I wrote tons of letters to the landlord and pushed other residents to do so as well, even though they were afraid of these people (the man next to me as I said was violent and the loud bastards throwing parties were gang members).

Now unfortunately while the worst ones are gone, there’s still a number of people here that also need to be removed. Just yesterday the police where here TWICE for two different things, a domestic dispute that ended in a stabbing (this is the second time that couple has stabbed each other), and Narcotics looking for a drug dealer (we have at least two living here). So while it has improved DRAMATICALLY around here, I can actually go a night without a fistfight outside or a drunken rampage, there’s still plenty of noise and disturbances that keep me up and interrupt my attempts at writing. It’s just less frequently and less loud and violent. But every bit of calm helps I suppose. It’s still a frustrating situation, not great but at least better than it was.

As you might imagine, I am tired and drained. Going through all this day in and day out was exhausting to say the least. At the very least though, things are starting to pick back up. I’m trying to recover my passion and collect myself to write with interest and focus again. But it’s slow going after so long, I feel rusty. And I need a break from it all, because although I was gone on hiatus it wasn’t like I was relaxing any. All I can say is I’m trying.

I’m sorry to all the readers who put up with my excuses, the delays and missed updates and broken promises, but maybe now I can get back on track. I can’t promise it will be a quick return, I feel like I need a vacation and I’m so worn out I don’t know where to begin, but now there’s a good, bright opportunity there to start again.

To sum up, I am still alive and still writing and still making plans despite all this bullshit. Slowly but surely I’m trying to get back into the habit, the form I used to write with.

So that’s what I’ve been up to. I’ll look ahead at what my intentions are moving forward considering all my fics that are on hiatus with the next part of this update, as I said at the beginning. But I need a few days to craft it (like always I’m verbose) and gather my thoughts.

#progress update #progress #update #wip #fanfic #fanfiction #haitus

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hotmessharry · 7 years ago

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Drunk and Disorderly - Imagine

*Y/N’s POV*

It was well after 2am by the time I gave up waiting, shuffling to the bedroom with a defeated sigh, leaving a couple of hall lights on behind me should he arrive home after I’d fallen asleep.

Harry had been out with his friends since 6.30pm, dinner and a few drinks he told me, “Nothing major sweetheart, I’ll be home by 12”.

“12 my arse” I grumbled as I crawled in to bed, shuffling under the duvet and into the cool sheets. I had waited up for him like he asked, but as 12 came and went, and my phone remained void of messages, I gave up. It was unusual of Harry to stay out later than intended and not let me know, and to say his lack of contact had me worried was an understatement.

I settled in to bed, lying flat on my back with my hands resting on my chest and my eyes gazing up at the ceiling, the exhaustion threatening to pull them closed but my concern repeatedly pulling them back open. As 3am drifted past, I finally slipped into an uneasy sleep.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before I was ripped from my dreams by a loud banging on the front door, but I was faintly aware of a thin band of pale light creeping in between the curtains. A second series of aggressive knocks rattled the front door. I quickly flung myself from the bed and pulled a jumper over my body, dashing down the stairs in my pyjama trousers and socks. As I unlatched the front door, I assumed I would pull it back to find Harry, having lost his keys or too drunk to get them in the lock I wasn’t sure, but I knew it would be him. I was prepared to be relieved to have him in front of me, I was also prepared for the anger that would inevitably follow as he slurred out an excuse for returning during the early hours of the morning. But as I opened the door, everything I expected was replaced with one thing:

Shock.

Stood before me, silhouetted by the crisp light of the early morning, were two police officers. The two men took no notice of my appearance as one offered me a soft smile.

“Miss Y/L/N?” he asked. By this point, I was too stunned to answer. Every possible reason as to why I was being faced with two police officers at 5 o’clock in the morning flashed through my brain in what must have been no longer than a second, and all of them ended with Harry, arrested, injured or worse. I’ve seen the programmes, the cop dramas and movies, and no good ever comes from having a policeman stood on your doorstep without good reason.

My inner turmoil must have been present on my face as the taller officer, a slender man with a thin beard and moustache, spoke again without waiting for my reply to his earlier question.

“No need to panic love, I can tell what you’re thinking and it’s not that” he said, his words lifting a weight off my heart. But still my brows furrowed in confusion.

“Is everything ok?” I asked.

“Well we are here on behalf of your boyfriend, Mr Styles, yes?” he asked and I nodded.

“Got ‘imself into a bit of trouble last night” the other officer said. He was shorter than his colleague and rounder, his hand stuffed into the front of his vest to brace him against the chill of the morning air.

“What happened? Is he ok?” I rushed.

“He’s fine. He was arrested last night for being drunk and disorderly. Kept him in the cells over night to sober him up. We’ve been sent to request that you come and collect him, there are a few forms that need to be filled out on his behalf” he explained. I was stunned silent. Harry, drunk and disorderly? It didn’t make sense, and it didn’t sit well in my stomach. I was well aware of the fact that Harry, like perhaps anyone else, was more than susceptible to the effects of alcohol, and on more than one occasion I had to pull him away from a fight on a night out, but for Harry to follow through on what I had always assumed were idle threats surprised me.

“Oh, oh right. Um, ok, just let me get dressed and I’ll follow you there in my car?” I suggested.

“Sounds good. We’ll just wait for you in our car, head out when you’re ready” the shorter officer spoke once again before they both turned away and returned to their car which was parked on the road just outside. I shut the door quickly and rushed upstairs, not bothering to change the jumper I had thrown on, but instead opting to switch my flannel pyjama bottoms for a pair of jeans. I stuffed my feet in to a pair of trainers as I grabbed my phone and keys before dashing out the front door again, locking it firmly behind me.

The officers drove slower than was probably necessary as I followed them across town to the local station, making a point to hold back after each junction to make sure that I was behind them. I pulled my car up beside them as we reached the station car park and followed them inside like they said.

“We’ve got Miss Y/L/N ‘ere Sir” the tall officer said, who I learned was called Tom as we hurried across the frozen ground of the car park and in to the welcome head of the station reception.

“Ah yes, thank you Sargent, I’ll deal with it from here”. Both officers gave me a small tip of the hat as they disappeared down one of the many corridors that branched off from the desk I was stood before.

“Not what you were expecting this morning ay Miss?” the man behind the desk said as he collected some papers from beside him and placing them in front of me along with a pen.

“Em no, not exactly” I said with by best attempt at a chuckle.

“No need to worry, just need you to fill out a couple of things and then your boyfriend will be released without charge, no harm done. Well maybe not for him, I imagine he’ll be getting a bit of an ear bashing from you on the way home, am I right?” he said with a smile.

“You got that right” I snorted as I began filling in the required details on the papers in front of me.

“I’d say he’s got the worst yet to come” he continued and once again I nodded, he had no idea. The paperwork was long and extensive, giving me more than enough time to decide whether I was angry, or relieved that nothing serious had happened to him. It didn’t take me long to decide that I was angry, furious in fact. For Harry, things like these become global news ‘Harry Styles arrested for being drunk and disorderly’, ‘Harry Styles spends night in a cell following arrest’, ‘Harry Styles: global superstar or drunken thug?’. His worldwide influence was growing day by day, his album was number 1 across the world, he himself is number 1 on 2 Billboard charts, and he was marking that achievement, by getting himself arrested. Way to go Harry.

“Done” the man behind the desk said as I signed the last page. “I’ll just head along and get ‘im” he said, before removing himself from his chair and disappearing, the large bunch of keys strapped to his waist jingling as he went. It was only moments before he returned, a tired and rather apprehensive Harry in his wake.

“Good luck Son” the man called as I turned to leave the building, Harry shuffling along behind me. It was silent, neither of us spoke as we hurried across the car park to escape the chill of the morning air. The smell of stale alcohol drifted from him as he slipped into the passenger seat beside me, his hands fidgeting nervously in his lap as I pulled out of the station and began the journey home.

“Sorry” Harry mumbled after several more minutes of thick, tense silence. I snapped.

“What the hell were you thinking?! Drunk and disorderly Harry are you kidding me?! What happened?!” I shouted, the anger in my voice resonating throughout the small confines of my car. Part of me wanted to calm down, to let him explain and to listen to what reasonable excuse he had for behaving in such an uncharacteristic way. But the anger at his carelessness was consuming me, so I pushed the reasonable thoughts aside and continued speaking before he had the chance to reply.

“Do you have any idea what the media are going to make of this?! How could you be so stupid Harry?!”

“Y/N please, let me explain” he signed gently, looking at me with wide, bloodshot eyes. I waved my hand in the air to encourage him to continue.

“I don’t even know what happened, I wasn’t that drunk,” I snorted but he pushed on, “I wasn’t I promise! We were having a couple of drinks after dinner, just like I said and then this guy recognised me, said I was ‘That guy who was in that band’. He knew you though, kept going on about how I had such a ��pretty girl’ and all this shit. He was off his face Y/N, literally blind drunk, I was surprised he was still on his feet. But he kept going on and on about you, said he’d seen you picture in the papers or something, and he was saying some disgusting things. Kept saying I should share you out, give him and turn for the night, said I could watch if it made me feel better” Harry cringed and I supressed a shudder, the anger dissolving from my body with each word he spoke.

“I lost it after that, I don’t even remember what happened. I must have followed him in to the street or something and attacked him cause the next thing I knew I was pinned to the ground by two police officers and the guy was being lifted into an ambulance. Someone said that they’d seen me follow the guy out of the bar so they arrested me for being drunk and disorderly and took me to the station. I’m sure you know the rest” Harry said with another gentle sigh. I pulled the car up outside the house and killed the engine.

“But they released you without charge, no assault conviction, nothing” I frowned.

“Yeah, a couple of people in the bar heard what was being said, told the police everything and they let me go”.

“I was so worried Harry” I whispered, turning in my seat to face him as he did the same. He sighed and reached over to brush his hand against my cheek, running his thumb along the puffy skin beneath my eyes which had developed from lack of sleep.

“I know baby, I’m sorry. I asked if I could call you but they wouldn’t let me until everything had got sorted out” he said gently, his fingertips brushing down my neck and pushing my hair back behind my shoulder.

“You don’t ever have to do that because some creep is saying something about me you know?” I said and he nods his head gently.

“You didn’t hear what he was saying Y/N, it was so,” I hushed him.

“Harry what people say doesn’t matter, what he was saying would never have happened, you and I both know that. Don’t get yourself into trouble just to protect me” I said gently.

“I’d do anything to protect you, sweetheart” he said, his voice holding the most conviction it had since I picked him up.

“I know” I said, leaning across the centre console to press my lips lightly against his. Neither of us tried to deepen the kiss, simply let the comforting warmth of his lips against mine sooth the stress of the night.

“Come on curly,” I said, pulling away just far enough to speak, my lips brushing gently against his, “let’s get you inside and in the shower, you stink of alcohol” I said with a giggle, pulling away completely and reaching for the door handle.

“Fine,” he sighed as I opened the door and stepped out, “but you’re getting in with me” he added as I shut the car door, a small smile spreading across my lips as his words ignited a warmth in my stomach.

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ufcw · 5 years ago

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UFCW Local 464a member speaks about life as a packinghouse worker during COVID-19 on “The Daily” podcast

When UFCW Local 464a member Achut Deng started her job at Smithfield in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, she was happy to find work that would allow her to build a better life for her three boys than the one she’d had growing up in refugee camps in Africa. Work at the plant is hard, but pays well and offers benefits that have allowed her to support not only herself and her children, but her family back home in Sudan. Every day, she goes to work and takes pride in helping make sure the bacon, ham, hot dogs, and other pork processed at the facility are safe and ready to feed families around the world. But when the coronavirus hit, Deng unexpectedly found herself at the center of the pandemic. Caitlin Dickerson of The New York Times spoke with Deng about her story.

When Deng was a child, there was a terrorist attack on her home in south Sudan. As an orphan, she fled the country and grew up in refugee camps in Ethiopia and Kenya. She often went days without any food or fresh water, and many of her friends died. She didn’t know if she was ever going to leave, and learned to take life one day at a time. “I would say it was just surviving because you don’t know what is going to happen tomorrow, you know?” said Deng.

In 2000, Deng was chosen for a program that relocated Sudanese orphans to the United States. When she got the news she would be leaving for America, she was so happy couldn’t sleep. She moved to Kansas City and started a new chapter in her life. She graduated high school, then went on to community college. After school, she started waitressing before working private security in her early 20s.

She ended up moving to Sioux Falls, South Dakota for the same reason many young people move- to pursue a relationship. “I always tell people I moved to Sioux Falls for a pretty stupid reason,” she laughs. “I was thinking I would find a man. So that was pretty much the reason right there. I moved in with my younger son’s father, then we broke up. “

With so many people dependent on her as breadwinner, Deng had told her ex she would need a job as soon as she moved out, and he told her about the job at Smithfield. Work there was hard, but paid well. “A lot of people came to Sioux Falls because of Smithfield and what it was offering people. I know a lot of Sudanese families came here because of Smithfield.”

Deng put in her application and started right away as a Whizard knife operator trimming the fat from the loin as it zooms past. More than 10,000 pigs are processed there a day, and production at her plant alone accounts for 4-5% of all pork that is processed in the United States.

“When I started? Hard work. Hard work is what I thought of it, but you’re not really thinking of how hard it is, you are thinking of money and everything. Once you get the paycheck, you are able to pay for the apartment. You are able to put food on the table. These are the things that I was thinking.”

“Once you start doing something for the first time, something that you’ve never done, your muscles are going to reject it. Your body is going to reject it. So I was always sore.”

Deng has held a number of jobs in the plant over the years. She became a shift lead and works about 11-12 hours days six days a week. With the overtime and her higher pay, she was even able to take her children to Disney World last year.

“My boys, all three of them, it means I can give them what I never had. Which is a better life at a young age. When I went there, I cried, but it was tears of happiness. I am American by papers. I can bring my kids here. And that was something I did. I was so proud of myself. “

Deng’s also uses her salary to support five family members who are still in Africa. “So this job, it allows me to take care of everybody else, not just my boys. So that’s why I pick up overtime, regardless of me being tired. Every morning when I go to work, I put everything that the company offered me in order to go to work this food that I’m making doesn’t have anything that can go and harm someone. Because this food is going to families. It’s going to children. It’s going to mothers. It’s going to fathers. Uncles. Aunts. Everyone around the world. Working at the meat factory, I’m making food for people around the world. I think of that every day. “

When she and her coworkers first heard about COVID-19, thought it was just something that was going to stay in China. Then as the virus spread to the United States, it was difficult to tell how big of a threat it would be. “Most of us as immigrants and refugees, it’s like, well, maybe people are just being extra about it, you know? Maybe it’s not that bad. For me personally, I’ve been through so much. If this is just like a virus, you’re talking to someone who had malaria, you know? I survived that. So it was like, if it’s going to be like malaria, I can go through it. It’s just going to be like any other thing that I’ve been through. “

But then things changed. Cleaning was stepped up in the plant, but with 150-160 people on each shift and many of them working side by side, Deng and her coworkers started to grow nervous.

Then on Saturday, March 28th, her supervisor pulled her aside and asked if she had any fever or cough. One of the machine operators she had worked with that morning had tested positive, and Deng was sent home to quarantine for two weeks. “I didn’t say it out loud, but I’m thinking, ‘they are being silly.’”

“Monday night I went to bed feeling ok. I woke up about 2am with this sharp pain in my body that just feels like someone has stabbed me. So I went to the bathroom and said, maybe if I take a shower, it will be better. But when the water hit my body, it felt like a bunch of rocks were being thrown at my body.”

Her skin hurt, and by Thursday night her body was so exhausted, even walking was difficult and it felt like something heavy was sitting on her chest. The fear kicked in as she started having trouble breathing, and she refused to fall sleep because she was afraid of not waking up. The experiences from her childhood flooded back, along with the fear that her children would face the same ordeals she went through being an orphan and not having parents to support them. “If I die, my kids will go through the same thing I’ve been through. The loneliness. I’m thinking, I bring these kids to this world. I’ve been through everything I’ve been through and I never had a chance to tell them. They don’t know their mom. They don’t know what their mom went through. All they know is their mom is a work-a-holic, “she would do anything to give us a better life,” that’s all they know. It’s not a perfect world. I make it perfect for them. But if I die, this world is not perfect anymore.”

As more workers got sick, the situation in Sioux Falls started to get nation attention. The number of positive cases kept rising up to more than 800 workers, and the governor called on head of Smithfield to stop production. On April 12th, Smithfield announced indefinite closure, while more and more plants around the country found themselves facing similarly dire circumstances.

An estimated 22 meatpacking plants have closed – including union and non-union plants – at some point in the past two months. These closures have resulted in over 35,000 workers impacted and a 25 percent reduction in pork slaughter capacity as well as a 10 percent reduction in beef slaughter capacity.

Internal UFCW estimates have confirmed 20 worker deaths in meatpacking and food processing. In addition, at least 5,000 meatpacking workers and 1,500 food processing workers have been directly impacted by the virus. Those directly impacted include individuals who have tested positive for COVID-19, missed work due to self-quarantine, are awaiting test results, or have been hospitalized, and/or are symptomatic.

Because of the importance of these workers to our national food supply, President Trump issued an executive order compelling these plants to stay open. But UFCW International President Marc Perrone called on the White House not to treat these workers as sacrificial lambs. “To protect America’s food supply, America’s meatpacking workers must be protected,” said Perrone. “The reality is that these workers are putting their lives on the line every day to keep our country fed during this deadly outbreak”

On Monday, the Sioux Falls plant began to partially reopen with about 250 employees. Deng is still recovering, but cannot afford to stay home for a long time. “My focus is to try to take care of myself so that when the company opens back up, then I’m ready to go. So that’s where my focus is.”

“Thank you very much for at least giving me the voice. A lot of people don’t understand, but living in the refugee camp, I don’t take anything for granted. Because of what I’ve been through and because of what I see happening to other kids that did not make it. But I am pretty sure they are looking over me and watching over me and I’m going to make them proud. “

UFCW & COVID 19

from UFCW Local 464a member speaks about life as a packinghouse worker during COVID-19 on “The Daily” podcast

#UFCW Local 464a member speaks about life as a packinghouse worker during COVID-19 on “The Daily” pod

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assholemurphy · 6 years ago

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i am awake at 5am bc i got drunk af last night. starting at 9pm. i didn’t stop until 2am. i drank a fuckton. more than i should have. it was 47%. kracken’s the good shit, i s2g. but i shouldn’t have drank so much. i’m getting bad with this shit. i drink a lot, lately. i mean, it’s college and i can, but my roommate’s worried i’m gonna be an alcoholic (spoiler: she is, but that’s none of my business) but my counselor literally laughed at that suggestion (bc i got drunk on a tues night and then had ONE drink the next night) and said i’m fine. but.... well, i’m not entirely sure. bc drinking is nice and relieves stress and therefore i’m going to end up doing it a lot bc i’m always stressed. but i’m okay with that. if i become an alcoholic, i’ll be a functioning one, so it won’t rly matter, not in a way that could affect my degree and that’s all i care abt. i’ll sort the shit later, but first, i need a career. then i can pay for rehab, lmao.

but, i was invited to a cast party for the show i was in (i got stopped in public yesterday by a guy who complimented me on it!) and i wasn’t sure i was gonna go, and i said i didn’t know if i was to my roommate, goldilocks, who took it as ‘oh, she’s not going’ and then proceeded to find a ride, make plans, etc to go without me. that’s fine? not rly, but i said it was. so i didn’t go to the cast party. instead i invited the victory bros (my friends, pretty boy and rafiki, no, their name isn’t actually victory, that’s a long, weird ass story) but i invited them over and pretty boy and i got drunk, rafiki didn’t. it was a lot of fun. i think i preferred it just being us to being in a house full of ppl who don’t rly like me to begin with. i mean, some of them do, but not enough of them for me to feel comfortable getting drunk with all of them. i did want to go, even got dressed nice for it, but when my roommate said she had made other plans, i said ‘fuck it’ and decided to hang out with my actual friends, not a bunch of ppl who pretend to like me for appearances. i think that was the better choice, tbh.

but, i’ve decided to start focusing on getting my shit together as opposed to trying to save goldilocks. she doesn’t want to get better, i’ve offered her help, i’ve let her drag me down to the point where i’m missing class and not turning in hw and i can’t do that. i need to fix myself and i can’t do that if i’m trying to fight her. i love her, a lot, but jfc, she needs professional help and i’m just not what she needs rn. she needs more than pretty boy and i can give her, and she’s so fucking unwilling to take the help we do offer. i’m gonna feel hella guilty for not saving her, but i can’t fix her if she doesn’t want help. so, i’ll deal. and work on myself. i’m slowly getting better, with the help of pretty boy, rafiki, and my counselor. i’m not undoing all of my progress for her, i can’t. i won’t. so, i’m gonna stop trying to fix her and just work on myself. i need to withdraw a little bit so i’m not as reactive to her. we’re both empaths and feed on other ppl’s emotions, so since she’s literally always anxious/upset/angry/etc, i feel it and it makes me upset, too, and that in turn feeds her more, and again and again in circles. it’s like living in a nuclear reactor. idk what to do. we used to be close, but lately she’s been pulling away and hanging with other ppl (which is obvs fine) and shitting on my friends (not fine) and blowing me off to do other things even when we had plans (also not fine). i’m getting srsly tired of it. idk what to do. i don’t want to ruin things, but it’s beginning to become obnoxious. she’s so fucking fragile, too, that anything she sees as conflict or an attack makes her shut down or go off on me. i thought my bipolar disorder was bad, at least i’ll admit i need medication.

anyway, i haven’t slept yet but i’m going to try around 8 bc i’ve got to make sure she’s up so she can do a theatre thing at the high school here. why that’s my responsibility, idk, but she asked and wouldn’t let me say no (i said no, but she kept asking, bc i was going to try to sleep at like, 3) so i’m staying up until she’s awake, then i’ll pass out. but i’ve got a killer headache (i need more water, but it’s in the fridge and that’s so far) and i just want to sleep. then when i wake up i’ve got to start on my hw. i’ve got 5 assignments and my therapy assignment thing to do. that should take a total time of like 8 hours, but i may have more to do for my script analysis group project, so it may be closer to 10 hours. then i need to make up my planner (i bought an hourly one and a monthly one), update my wall calendar for the month, put together my desk calendar, and get started on reading the next script for intro to theatre (which i might just do on sun) so i’m caught up/ahead. i’ll get that done this weekend and try to get some writing done, bc i need some self care in my life and writing is my self care. but these past few days i’ve been falling apart and i need to grab ahold of my fucking bootstraps and duct tape them to my fucking ears. bc i’ve got to get my shit in order. i just have to. so, i’ve got like 15 hours of work and organizing to do this weekend but then i’m free.

i’m dying, cats. this is too much at once and i’m drowning in other ppl’s emotions. i think i’m just gonna start going to the library bc this whole apartment is like a spawning ground for bad shit. so, i may pack up today or sunday and go to the library and get some work done there. but rn i’m gonna shower and try not to puke (i don’t get hangover’s, i’ve just felt sick all week, but hey, got my period, so ik i’m not pregnant! not that i logically could be, but ya know, paranoia). so, that’s what’s currently happening with izzy on today’s ep of ‘no kill shelter: god’s fav sitcom’ (for the other stories, one must speak directly to rafiki, pretty boy, and goldilocks)

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daveywankenobie · 8 years ago

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In front of me as I start this post is an ice cold pint of Diet Coke and some rather nice looking daffodils. In all honesty I feel like today (more than most days) I really deserve this drink.

This morning I was wide awake at 2am.

I’m not sure if it was the neighbours having a row that woke me up or whether them shouting at each other only kept me awake – but eventually all I could do was write off the night and get up.

This wasn’t altogether a bad thing though. The clocks had changed and I’d had an early night so it wasn’t the end of the world.

As I sat awake I started looking for places that I might go for a walk today. I was at a loose end for the majority of Sunday, so getting a head start on some exercise seemed like a good way to begin my morning.

Workouts will be especially important to me this week. I have extra motivation thanks to my slower than usual weight loss last week. I want my twelve and a half stone certificate next Saturday, and to get it I need to lose 2.5lbs.

After a little browsing and researching I settled on the Malvern Hills.

I’ve been meaning to go for ages and have suggested it to lots of people but for whatever reason it’s just not happened or the weather has been miserable. Today however the forecast was excellent.

I see the Malvern Hills as a great way to test my limits. I’ve not been challenged by inclines on this level since I started losing weight. If I eventually want to do Snowdon I had to see what my stamina ceiling is.

It was totally dark when I got in the car, but by the time I arrived at my destination the sun was just coming up – and the car park (British Camp) was mostly deserted.

I guess in some respects this location for parking could be considered cheating.

It is after all a good half way up the full height of the hills, and designed for tourism with a hotel and a cafe nearby. According to the online guides however this route is a pretty steep incline and clearly is intended for fitter walkers. Initially I was going to go for another location which was ‘easy access’ with gentler inclines and smoother paths but as I passed British Camp I thought ‘What the hell! You don’t know until you try!’

Although the route I took to the summit wasn’t particularly far the steep slopes and killer steps meant this took me a little while – but nowhere near as long as I expected. I have to say I’m pretty impressed at how long it took for my legs to tire. Although I paused a few times for a breather I was at the top in a surprisingly quick time and admiring the view.

It was pretty windy when I got there so by the time I was standing at the top I really wished I’d bought a scarf as I suddenly had a totally frozen face and I really missed my beard. On the plus side thanks to the exercise I was nice and toasty everywhere else!

The main issue now though was – I was on the top – but what should I do next?

I looked around and quite a way away in the distance I could see a tiny stone column on top of another hill, so I thought I’d see if I could make my way toward it. Before long I’d travelled up and over a few more peaks and found myself at a stone signpost that was pointing at my objective.

Whatever it was it appeared to be on Midsummer hill, and the obelisk was called…. ‘obelisk’.

Descriptive. Clearly at this altitude there’s no need for further explanation.

No matter. An objective is an objective.

The path led through mud, sheep and some light woodland, but just over an hour after I’d left my car I was there! According to my watch I’d walked was just under two and a half miles – but truthfully it had felt quite a bit further.

Although I can clearly now do such a walk with relative ease (and even I felt I was rather brisk given its undulating nature) I’m not used to this kind of terrain at all. My knees really felt the strain on the downward sections.

I’d like to say the monument was a revelation and that revealing it’s secrets was worth the workout – but apart from being an impressive pile of bricks I can’t mislead you. The inscription was possibly interesting if you’re are a local Malvern historian, but otherwise… not so much.

The view from beside it however was fabulous! The hill that I stated at was now teeny tiny (it’s the lump in the middle on the left!)

At this point I thought I’d set my Apple Watch to a walking workout and go back the same way I came to see if I could do it quicker and get my pulse rate higher. The route was almost completely deserted when I started out – so even if I was a sweaty mess very few people would see me if I collapsed in a dripping heap.

I actually ended up getting a little sidetracked however.

I took a slightly longer route back (at least it seemed to be) because of this sign.

A frikkin GIANT’S CAVE?!!!!

How could I pass that up?! It was a cave – big enough for GIANTS!!! I immediately took the alternate path and headed for the underground cavern of wonders.

When I arrived there were already some giants standing at the cave mouth.

However – when I got closer I realised that they were actually a boringly normal family of people with a disappointingly small child and a cute dog.

Furthermore my cave of wonders was SIX FOOT DEEP AND SIX FOOT HIGH.

As the family left they said ‘there’s a giant hand print at the back!!! As they walked away throwing sticks for their delightful pooch I ventured in to see the GIANT HAND PRINT.

So it’s fair to say that Malvenians (or whatever the people who live in this area like to call themselves) are a whimsical bunch like to be understated when describing their monuments and overstated when describing their cracks in rocks and daubing on walls.

It was a good workout though and I can’t complain!

The views were superb and all the the paths were well maintained, clear and easily navigable (if sometimes a little rustic). Sadly though by the time I sat down in the hotel nearby where I’d parked (after travelling back down the really steep slopes at the start of the day) my knees were killing me.

This was a bit annoying – as I felt like I hadn’t done a whole lot. My leg muscles felt like they had way more in them, but my knees (particularly tendons I think) were screaming – a pain I’m not used to at all.

After sitting for a while to let it wear off I decided that since I’d already paid for the all day parking that I’d just take it slow, carry on and walk down the path alongside the road to the bottom of the hill.

I had originally planned to walk the rest of the range of hills behind the hotel as well, but when it came down to it although I wasn’t phased by the prospect of the climb I couldn’t face any more ridiculous downward inclines. The road too was downhill – but nowhere near as bad as the walk I’d just done.

Plus – at least if I walked to the bottom of the hill I’d just stood at the top of (and back up) at least I could say I’d walked completely from the bottom to the top!

As I was heading down with this new objective in mind I noticed toward the bottom of the slope people were leaving a really nice looking church after a morning service with daffodils clutched in their hands. While stepping around them as they got into their cars I noticed that I was standing next to a famous grave.

Sir Edward Elgar was buried in the cemetery, so I thought that while I was there I might as well take a look.

Compared to the cave and the monument this at least delivered on the promise of being a grave. I couldn’t fault its ‘graveness’ and since I’ve never before visited the grave of someone that was famous I think I can tick this off my bucket list.

‘Visited the grave of Elgar.’

Tick.

Thats one more thing I don’t have to do before I die!

At this point my already painful knees were now really really painful so I decided to walk back up the hill to my car and make my way home.

Again I set my Apple Watch workout to capture what I was doing. Although the lower part of the gradient was gentle it was continuously uphill for over a mile (with 288ft of elevation) and became quite a bit steeper the closer it got to the British Camp car park. My heart rate was continually at 138/140 bpm toward the end and I still felt I could keep going.

I didn’t have to stop once and I actually really enjoyed feeling the burn!

By the time I’d reached my car I’d walked a total of almost nine (pretty punishing) miles around Malvern. During them my watch considered 112 minutes of my movement to be exercise/cardio. I burned 1750/4099 active/total calories – which should help towards the weight I want to lose next week!

Now I’m home and I’m absolutely knackered – but today has been a big step. I’ve experimented and I’ve found yet more places I can go and more things that I can do.

I have walked up and down gradients that not so very long ago I simply wouldn’t have been able to – and regardless of my knees I loved every minute of it!

A year ago internet I wouldn’t have even gotten out of the car. I’d have driven past and looked at the view from within my comfortable little bubble.

Thats never, ever, ever, ever going to happen again.

Davey

Malvern Knees In front of me as I start this post is an ice cold pint of Diet Coke and some rather nice looking daffodils.

#Fitness #Health #Positive Thinking #Slimming World #Weight loss

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