#it’s been too much condo renovation work

[gibblegabber]

couldn’t go to the city today so instead i met a couple friends and went to the arcade

…for SEVEN HOURS

i played so much DDR my feet are killing me

and here’s my crane game haul 🥰

[bellysoupset]

Hey up! I FINALLY have an idea for Lucas as the sickie and bell as the caretaker! (Well it’s more of a small request) maybe He’s been running errands with bell all day and just kinda suffering in silence for the whole day until he finally gets home and it all kinda hits him at once and kinda topples over in pain and of course some Emeto but please feel free to make changes etc etc !! 🌙 peace out 🌙🌙

oh heheeh, time to torture this cutie again.

------

Lucas had been spending the majority of his time at the hospital. As the only one who didn't work, that meant he could spend most of the time keeping Vince from breaking bed rest.

Still, that had been taking a toll on him and also, generally, in his personal life. Normally Bella left the house obligations to him, since he had more free time than she did, and with the renovation of their new condo, his list of errands had all but doubled in a quick amount of time.

Bella: did u pick up the new lamps?

Oh yeah, the new lamps. Lucas groaned, rubbing his temple and across from him Vince glanced away from the old rerun of Friends he was watching.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Luke shook his head, "just forgot to pick up some stuff. In fact, I'm pretty sure I forgot to pick up a lot of stuff."

Vince snorted, "that's because you've been babysitting me, even though I said five times already that I don't need a baby sitter. Wendy is in the hospital, Jon too. Casey the nice nurse is here and Tony the hotter nurse and Claire the one that I'm pretty sure spits on my food. I'm fine."

Lucas let out a chuckle, lowering his forehead to the hospital bed mattress, only to feel Vince's fingers in his hair, petting it lightly, "get out of here, Luke."

"Uhmm, okay," Lucas nodded, but didn't move from his position, "in a second, as soon as I get the energy."

Vince hummed, tapping the top of his head, "you good, Luke?"

"Yeah, just... Just tired, I guess," Lucas shrugged, straightening up. Now that he had a second to assess himself, he realized he wasn't actually feeling all that well.

His stomach hurt, but Luke chalked it up as hunger. He hadn't eaten since morning, because unwillingly, his own meals had synched up with Vince's mandatory ones. He also felt lethargic as hell.

"I don't want to see you here tonight," Vince shooed him with his good hand, "I'm serious, I'll ask security to ban you. Get out of my hospital room."

Luke rolled his eyes and got up, "sure you will, you love my company... But yeah, I think I need to rest, your couch is comfy but not nearly as comfy as my girlfriend's bed."

"Bet Bella also doesn't snore as much as you do," Vince grinned, "get out of here."

Figuring he should tackle the first issue first, Lucas headed straight to the hospital's buffet before even running his errands. People said hospital food was garbage, but what people meant was that the severely sick patients with different amount of sodium intakes allowed were served horrible, unsalted food. The cafeteria one, though, Luke had learned through his teenage years, was awesome. No one wanted nurses and doctors unhappy.

He piled on his plate with food and then sat down at a little table on the corner, taking his time to answer all the texts he had left for another time. Vince's mom had gotten his number and she was just as chatty as her son. He had a backlog of at least ten texts from her.

Bella had texted him too, although hers were less conversation and more her utilizing one of their many group chats to dump on their list of chores. He sent her a saluting emoji and "on it boss". She texted back with an eyerolling emoji and then, "you're coming home tonight, right Lucas?"

How could he ever even say no.

Lucas: ofc, i miss my girl.

He saw her little bubble pop and disappear twice, before her answer appeared.

Bella: and here I was thinking I'd have to fight Vince

He snorted at the mental image and pocketed his phone, turning his attention to the food. He hadn't managed even half the plate, but his stomach already felt full. It was unlike him, he was the type to have seconds and thirds.

Luke pushed the meatballs around his plastic plate, trying to figure if he should overdo it or risk throwing it away and being hungry later. Deciding he really didn't want to derail his day by having to eat again, he mechanically chewed the remaining meatballs and got up.

As soon as he was up his stomach jumped to his throat, in a nasty belch that he had no control over. He slammed a hand to his mouth, catching the tailending of it, but far too late. On the table next to him, some nurses wrinkled their noses and glared in his general direction, causing his cheeks to burn.

He made his exit quick after that.

Home Depot wasn't his natural habitat. In fact, it was almost an alien landscape, snob kid that he was. Lucas felt like every worker there was deeply aware how out of place he looked, even if common sense actually told him he looked like he belonged.

He spent more than thirty minutes trying to decode whatever Bella had meant when she typed "eggshell mud green paint" and eventually decided that fuck it, grabbing the ugliest shade of green he could find and putting it inside his cart.

The more he walked around, confident that he was picking every single piece wrong no matter how hard he tried to decode the instructions, the more it hit him that he had been wrong. His nausea earlier hadn't been hunger.

Lucas grimaced, pressing his stomach against the horizontal cart handle. It caused his stomach to let out a gurgle and he muffled another burp, blowing it out under his breath.

His phone buzzed and he picked it up, squinting at the screen. The queasy sensation spreading all over him was making everything else too much. The bright white lights over his head, the store radio, his clothes clinging to him.

Bella: can you buy me tampons 😭I forgot

He groaned then nodded, only to realize a second too late that Bell obviously couldn't see him.

Lucas: yeah. that green brand with the pink things?

Bella: sí.

He pocketed the phone again, then groaned as a horrible taste flooded his mouth. It made him shiver, his hair glueing down to his forehead.

Giving up on home depot, Lucas paid - even though he was pretty sure he'd have to return - and headed to the parking lot. He barely got to load all the packages in the backseat, before his stomach churned again and Luke ended up bending in half, retching to the gravel between his sneakers.

Nothing came up, but his nausea jumped up a notch. He spat the bitter taste in his mouth and rubbed his stomach, sweat running down his forehead and his shirt glued to his back, even though it was a pretty chilly day out.

He rasped out, trying to catch his breath and keep his lunch down at the same time, which was proving to be a challenge. Another wet burp rolled up and Lucas groaned, pressing his forehead to the leather of the seats in front of him.

He palmed over his belly button, where he could feel some angry gurgling and pressing. Another sickening belch made past his lips, offering not an sliver of relief, but pushing the nausea back enough that Luke could straight up. His lips were covered with drool and Lucas grimaced, wiping his mouth and his forehead.

Well... fuck.

He still had to stop by the pharmacy, so despite his whole body aching and the contents of his stomach sloshing every time he so much as breathed, Lucas got to it.

The pharmacy was brighter than home depot, causing him to squint the entire time as he picked up the package of tampons, grabbing the cramps medicine with one hand and planting it all over the counter with a groan.

"Good... Good evening...?" the cashier sounded horrified and Lucas sighed.

"Not really," he took a step back to avoid breathing in their direction.

"Do you have our loya-"

"No, please," Luke groaned, "just... Please."

Catching the memo, the blonde before him scanned his itens as far as possible, flinching in sympathy when Luke's stomach gurgled.

"I also get super nauseous on my period," they said and Luke frowned, confused.

"I'm not... It's not my-" his stomach cramped again and the pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, gulping down and deciding not to clear up anything, "yeah, it fucking sucks. I'm sorry for-" he gestured to his general self, "keep the change."

"Feel better!" came a squeal behind him, followed by "ginger helps!"

He wasn't sure ginger or anything could help. Luke felt drunk by the time he pulled up in front of their place and he couldn't insert the fucking key.

His stomach was crawling up his throat and he gagged, liquid splashing on his tongue and puffing out his cheeks... He swallowed it back down, dropped the key and then slammed a hand against the door, "BELL! Open-" he gagged and slammed the door again, "BELL!"

He heard a distant squeal and then footsteps, followed by "Luke? Did you forget your-"

As soon as she opened the door, his stomach turned again and the only thing he could do in order to not throw up on her was grab his girlfriend by the arm and push her to his side, as vomit covered the very spot she had been standing on.

He crumbled down, falling to his knees and Bella let out a curse, barely avoiding the puddle of sick and holding his shoulders, "hey- Hey, Luke- Lucas-"

He was far from done. His stomach was still burning, bubblying with sick and he retched again, bracing against the floor and gagging as his hand met hot chunky vomit.

Bella planted a cold hand on his forehead and supported his head, a good thing she did because the next heave was productive and if it wasn't for her holding his head, he'd have covered his shirt with it.

Red sauce sprayed all over the Welcome In mat and Lucas groaned, wrapping an arm around his stomach and turning around, dizzily falling on his ass, head meeting the open door.

"Joder, Luke," Bella cursed, hands cupping his cheeks and gagging softly as her knee met the puddle that was impossible to avoid, "what the hell, baby...?"

"Sorry," his voice was completely gone and Lucas ducked his head, belching to his lap and spreading his legs apart so he could spit on the already destroyed mat, "sorry, I-"

"That was frankly the most impressive Exorcist imitation I've ever seen," Bella teased lightly, leaning in and planting her lips to his clammy forehead, "I think you're running a fever, Luke."

"Kill me," he groaned pitifully, muffling another burp against her band t-shirt, "my stomach hurts, Bell..."

"Okay, uhm..." she ran a hand through his hair, then down his sweat covered shirt, "you need a shower... I'm gonna-" Bella grimaced, glancing at the mess on their front door, covering the mat, running down the brick step, "Yeah, I'm gonna trash that mat and wash this down, alright?"

"Sorry-"

"Shh," she kissed his temple, "are you done?"

"Fuck no," Lucas groaned, "I had a large lunch."

"Well, you couldn't have known-"

"I knew," he grimaced, leaning back against the door and rubbing his stomach, tugging at the shirt and sighing as his girlfriend helped him strip it off, despite the fact they were sitting on the front step, facing the street, "my stomach was already hurting, but I thought it was hunger..." he burped, pressing on his belly, "I was wrong."

Bella let out a disappointed sigh, "clearly," she rolled her eyes, then used his shirt to wipe down his mouth and glanced at his belly, "okay, can you stand?"

"Give me a minute."

"Sure," she cringed, stroking his cheek, "let's sit here with the puddle of vomit."

"Uhm," Lucas smiled, tiredly and rubbed yet another wet burp up, "I got you the tampons."

"...Ah puta mierda, Lucas, you didn't have to go to the pharmacy when you were sick!" Bella exclaimed, "no wonder you couldn't make it home."

"I did make it home," he glared at her in a lighthearted manner, then gagged as another churn warned him his stomach was done with his silly teasing. He burped in his fist and then patted Bella's hip with his free hand, "move-"

She almost fell off the step in her rush to move out of the way and Lucas groaned as he felt her hands on his shoulders, keeping him from leaning too forward. He gagged, no longer bothering to aim anywhere. It was already a horrible mess.

Bella's thumb was rubbing lazy circles on his nape and Luke tried to focus on it, but it was to no avail. With another belch, he coughed and a gush of chunky vomit joined the previous mess, some of it covering the hem of his jeans.

"Gross," Bella mumbled, "take a deep breath, Lu-"

He heaved, loudly, and another watery amount rushed up, stinging his nose, mostly pink instead of the cartoonish red from before, "I think..." Lucas burped, spitting the thick saliva pooling in his mouth, "think I'm done."

She let out a humm and kissed the top of his head, "alright, then hold on me. Let's get you in a shower... Or to a priest."

Lucas groaned, hugging his stomach, "don't make me laugh, my stomach is so sore."

Bella opened a smile, grabbing his arm, "up, up, up."

He allowed her to pull him to his feet, swaying on the spot and grabbing on the door handle to keep him from toppling over her, "this isn't fair, my first night home in three days."

"You might consider where you picked this stomach bug in the first place," Bella said, gently maneuvering him around the cramped house, towards the bathroom, "I'm going to tell Wendy."

"About me hurling?" Lucas blinked, confused as Bella pushed him inside the shower and turned the water on, his jeans and sneakers be damned.

"Yeah, it's worrying if you got this in the hospital," she said, then gestured to the water, so he'd get in.

"Okay," Lucas sighed in relief as the water washed down the clammy sweat, hands fumbling with his jeans that were getting heavier and heavier with the water, "this wasn't very smart- Ow!" he jumped as Bella slapped his hand away and promptly undid his pants, "watch those claws, Bella!"

She snorted, crouching down to peel them off his legs. She grabbed his hip when Lucas swayed and moved up, balling the ruined pants in her hand, "I'll be back in a second. Don't fall and hit your head."

"I'm a better patient than Vince."

His girlfriend rolled her eyes, "not by much, baby. Not by much,"

[the-lincyclopedia]

Winter holiday fics by lincyclopedia

Thanks for the tags, @cricketnationrise and @doggernaut! When you tagged me, I wasn't sure if I had any winter holiday fics. I have 12, across four fandoms. In my defense, I have over 200 fics total, so I lose track of what I've written sometimes. (Also, looking back through my AO3 account, it's like, man, I used to write. Unfortunately I've been too depressed to do much of that for a while now.) Anyway. Here's what I've got, organized by fandom:

Check Please

Deck the Halls with Balls of Holly

Ransom misunderstood the lyrics to "Deck the Halls," and he and Holster wind up making some interesting Christmas decorations for the Haus.

This is a super short one-shot featuring platonic Ransom & Holster friendship from Bitty's POV. (It's part of my series of fics based on misheard song lyrics.) The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Palentine's Day Karaoke

This fic is inspired by @softfloralbro's story "Shitty Knight's Palentine's Day Spectacular" and is basically a karaoke playlist wrapped in narration. The basic idea is that SMH has a karaoke party on Valentine's Day, and everyone serenades their friends. Set in February of Year 2.

This fic is full of SMH friendship, music, and not much else. The relevant holiday is Valentine's Day.

In Your Warmth I Forget How Cold It Can Be

In a world where the graduation kiss never happened, it's winter break of Bitty's senior year, and Bitty and Jack are both out and single. The plan is for Bitty to spend New Year's Eve with Jack at Jack's condo, but that plan goes awry when Bitty and Jack return from the airport to find a homophobic slur painted on Jack's parking space. TW for homophobia.

Basically, this is canon-divergent Zimbits getting together. The relevant holiday is New Year's Eve.

too long i've been afraid (of losing love i guess i've lost)

Dex gets disowned after coming out as gay. SMH is there for him.

Basically, angst, hurt/comfort, and platonic Frogs content, plus some platonic Dex & Bitty. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Five Times Lukas Was Homesick Plus One Time He Didn’t Have to Be

It can be hard to go to school in another country where everyone speaks a different language and no one celebrates your holidays. Luckily, Lukas has friends to help when he’s homesick.

Okay, this is a 5+1 and only one of the scenes is actually about a winter holiday, but I like that scene, so I'm including this fic on the list. The relevant holiday is St. Lucia Day.

When Lucia Day Dawns

For Lukas's senior project as a music major, he has to plan/lead a public music performance. He decides to form a choir to sing Swedish Lucia/Advent/Christmas songs on St. Lucia Day (December 13). This is the Friday before finals and everything is stressful—until the concert starts and suddenly it’s perfect.

This is another Lukas-centric fic about being Swedish. The relevant holiday is St. Lucia Day.

Carry On

Right Now

A one-shot set during Christmas break of Simon and Agatha's fifth year at Watford. Even though they're not ultimately meant to be, they made sense as a couple once.

This is very jossed by Any Way the Wind Blows, but I still kind of like it. It's pre-canon Simon/Agatha. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Stranded

After leaving Baz's house and dropping Penny off in London, Simon and Agatha get stranded in a ditch in the middle of a snowstorm. Ex awkwardness ensues.

Unlike "Right Now," this fic features Simon and Agatha as exes. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Sounds Like a Date

Baz is a barista stuck working on Christmas Eve. Simon is a handsome customer.

This is a coffee shop AU featuring a Snowbaz meet-cute. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Yuri on Ice

Ice Quality

One of Yuuri's college friends invites him to spend Christmas with her family, and Celestino approves as long as Yuuri promises to skate while he's there. Trouble is, the town's indoor rink is closed for renovations. A one-shot set during Yuuri's time in college in Detroit.

This is a pre-canon platonic Yuri & OFC fic. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Happy New Year, Otabek!

Yuri and Otabek have been best friends for four years, and Yuri's had a crush on Otabek for a while, but he never expected Otabek to like him back. Until, that is, Otabek gets drunk at the Grand Prix Final banquet and says some things Yuri doesn't expect. It's going to be a very interesting New Year's celebration in Almaty . . .

This is a post-canon Yuri Plisetsky/Otabek, and it's the only multi-chapter fic on this list (though it's still pretty short). The relevant holiday is New Year's Eve.

Sherlock

Over the Table and through the Giggles

John has insisted on hosting a Christmas party. Again. Everyone but Sherlock is drinking, and John is telling stories about Sherlock, and suddenly Sherlock decides to kiss John. Plotless fluff.

This is a canon-divergent Johnlock getting-together scene based more heavily than you might guess on my sober-but-sleep-deprived friends and me being ridiculous in high school. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

I'm guessing a lot of people have been tagged, especially from the Check Please fandom, but I'm going to try to pull in some Queen's Thief folks. I tag @worldsentwined, @newtsoftheworldunite, @hoeratius, @eponymiad, and anyone else who wants to play!

[rockislandadultreads]

New Title Tuesday: Horror

Piñata by Leopoldo Gout

Carmen Sanchez is back in her home country of Mexico, overseeing the renovation of an ancient cathedral into a boutique hotel. Her teen daughters, Izel and Luna, are with her for the summer, and left to fill their afternoons unsupervised in a foreign city.

The locals treat the Sanchez women like outsiders, while Carmen's contractors openly defy and sabotage her work. After a disastrous accident at the construction site nearly injures Luna, Carmen's had enough. They're leaving.

Back in New York, Luna begins acting strange, and only Izel notices the chilling changes happening to her younger sister. But it might be too late for the Sanchez family to escape what's been awakened...

The Insatiable Volt Sisters by Rachel Eve Moulton

It's the summer of 1989 and Beatrice and Henrietta Volt are coming of age on remote Fowler Island in Lake Erie, their ancestral home and wild playground. Thicker than thieves, they plot their futures while their parents pick their marriage apart piece by piece. The girls have no idea that their parents are separating. Or that the plan is to separate them.

Ten years pass and Henrie gets a desperate call from her sister--their father has died suddenly and B.B. needs Henrie to come back to the island for the funeral. When Henrie arrives, the island seems even stranger than she remembers. But the truth is, she doesn't remember much about the island, and nothing at all about the night she left. She just feels a vague and perplexing sense of dread and a sharp fear of the quarry pond behind the house. Will the Volt sisters inherit the horrors of their past or surpass them?

The Trees Grew Because I Bled There by Eric LaRocca

Eight stories of literary dark fiction from a master storyteller. Exploring the shadow side of love, these are tales of grief, obsession, control. Intricate examinations of trauma and tragedy in raw, poetic prose. In these narratives, a woman imagines horrific scenarios whilst caring for her infant niece; on-line posts chronicle a cancer diagnosis; a couple in the park with their small child encounter a stranger with horrific consequences; a toxic relationship reaches a terrifying resolution…

Originally published under the title The Strange Thing We Become and Other Dark Tales, this is a much-praised collection of deeply unsettling, painfully dark tales.

The Marigold by Andrew F. Sullivan

The Marigold, a gleaming Toronto condo tower, sits a half-empty promise: a stack of scuffed rental suites and undelivered amenities that crumbles around its residents as a mysterious sludge spreads slowly through it. Public health inspector Cathy Jin investigates this toxic mold as it infests the city’s infrastructure, rotting it from within, while Sam “Soda” Dalipagic stumbles onto a dangerous cache of data while cruising the streets in his Camry, waiting for his next rideshare alert. On the outskirts of downtown, 13-year-old Henrietta Brakes chases a friend deep underground after he’s snatched into a sinkhole by a creature from below.

All the while, construction of the city’s newest luxury tower, Marigold II, has stalled. Stanley Marigold, the struggling son of the legendary developer behind this project, decides he must tap into a hidden reserve of old power to make his dream a reality — one with a human cost.

[simthorium]

Married life for Penelope and Kenya was phenomenal. Penelope was trying her hand in the culinary career and quickly moving up the ranks while Kenya stayed home and worked on renovating their condo.

“Babe, are you sure?” Penelope asked at breakfast one morning. “I mean, we only just got married, don’t you think it might be too soon?” “I’m ready to start a family with you, baby,” Kenya said with a smile. “I’ve never been surer of anything. Well, other than marrying you, of course.” “Work is only gonna get harder from me from here on out,” Penelope said. “I don’t want to leave you alone too much.”

“We’ll figure it out,” said Kenya, caressing her wife’s hands. “We’re gonna be the best moms in the world.” “Oh, hell yea we are!” Penelope said, smiling big. “And our kid is gonna be the coolest ever.” “No doubt,” Kenya laughed.

The adoption process was long and arduous, but the day was finally here. Penelope and Kenya stood outside of their apartment, nervously waiting for the social worker to show up. “I feel like I’m gonna throw up,” Kenya said anxiously.

Penelope wrapped her arms around her wife and held her close. “You have nothing to worry about,” said Penelope. “We’re gonna do great.” Just then, the social worker arrived in her van. “Mrs. and Mrs. Zarro?” she asked. “That’s us!” Penelope said excitedly. “You ready, babe?” “Ready,” said Kenya.

The social worker picked up a tiny baby out of the back seat and handed her to Penelope gingerly as Kenya looked on. Penelope was overjoyed to see her new baby daughter. “Here is your new baby girl,” the social worker said with a smile. “Congratulations.”

Penelope and Kenya cradled their new baby together, both overcome with emotion. “Oh god, she’s so tiny!” Penelope exclaimed, handing her over to Kenya. “She’s perfect,” Kenya said, crying. “Thank you.” The social worker nodded and left, leaving the new parents to celebrate their child together.

“She looks just like you,” Penelope said with a laugh. “You think they did that on purpose?” “I think she was meant to be with us,” Kenya said, cuddling the baby. “What should we name her?” “How about Amber?” Penelope said. “I feel like she looks like an Amber.” Kenya bounced the baby up and down. “Are you our baby Amber? Is that your name?” Kenya asked. Amber cooed and smiled up at her mothers. “She’s a genius,” Penelope said with a laugh.

[ppangjae]

ALEX!!!!!

It's been a while! I searched through my tag on your blog and found out that I last sent you an ask on 18 Jun last year :( It's been so long, I missed coming here and just being able to talk to you.

How've you been, Alex? I read through some of your replies to other anons and found out you've found a partner 🥺 That is really wonderful news! I hope you're both happy individually and together ❤️

I wouldn't bombard you with copious amounts of updates about my life in the past year, but I will say that renovations are finally underway after a lot of setbacks that almost did not make it happen! My family & I are currently in a condo while it's happening and we'll be returning to our newly renovated house in a few weeks!

And I also got to read your recent (as recent as it can get, I guess? LOL) fic for chef!Jaehyun and also found out that you're now planning for a doctor!Jae?!?! All the research it must have taken to come up with the backbone of your last fic, now you're diving into a hospital scene?! — the respect to your dedication and my interest in your masterlist have definitely rekindled big time after having been so busy! I even especially liked the details of the food when OC is preparing them, seeing as I've recently been watching a lot of Gordon Ramsay's videos on YouTube. And how it perfectly matches to Jaehyun in NCT DJJ film! My gosh, I wish I was able to squeal about that with you! It was what I remembered when I watched the video, but I was held up with a lot of things at the time; but I'm glad to see so many other anons gushing about it. It was so cool to see chef!Jae come to life in actual NCT content! I bet you were just as surprised when you saw it — but I'm really happy you got to feel the excitement of that! ❤️

Ahh, this is getting longer and I don't want to overwhelm you, but I really missed sending you messages, Alex 🥺 I hope you've been doing very well and taking care of yourself. I'll definitely give chef!Jae fic a reread and patiently wait for doctor!Jae!

Oh — and it's my birthday again! This was soooo my last ask from last year, too 🫣

Anyway, I hope your day has been/is going well! Missed being here. All the love, dearest Alex! — ♡ anon

oh my goodness, it's been quite a while! no worries, love, because i got swept up with how busy my life has been so i haven't been on tumblr quite frequently (honestly, i haven't been on tumblr for a while too sjkdhfd)

i have been doing well! i've just been busily living day by day LOL and yes! i do have a partner, we actually hit our six months last month hehe (speaking of, we're reaching seven months in a couple of days). i am happy! he makes me happy hehe and although we've only been together for six months (and counting), it feels like we've been together and known each other for years.

i'm so glad to hear that you and your family are going to be able to move into your newly renovated home soon! that's so exciting! i always love when people move into new homes or renovate because there's always something exciting and anticipating about it LOL i hope you've been doing well, love!

ahhhh i see that you've read chef!jae hehe yeah, it's been months since i've posted it (and then completely disappeared after kjshdfkjshdf) but yes, i'm currently brainstorming and planning to write a doctor!jae fic! i think after posting the chef!jae fic, i realized that i like to take my time writing fics because it allows me to brainstorm more and to fully immerse myself into writing. chef!jae was just so fun to write!

honestly though, i didn't even know about chef!jae in that DJJ video until nikki texted me about it. funny enough, i was work when it all happened kjsdhf so pretty much, i've been so busy that if nikki hadn't sent me a text about it, i probably wouldn't even know about chef!jae in the DJJ video sjkdhfsdf. but it did feel nice and super thrilling to see a glimpse of chef!jae in the video - and just live out five plus one jae with an actual visual sdjkhfsd

and don't be sorry for sending me long messages! i love hearing about how everyone has been doing nowadays, especially with how busy life could get LOL

AHHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY! i hope your birthday wishes come true!

[westphallremodeling]

Why Home Renovation Is Important

Residing in a confidential house is viewed as esteemed, however on condition that it is reasonably prepared and gives most unmistakable solace to its occupants. On the off chance that rural lodging is as of late purchased and is at the time of disagreeable San Antonio Westphall renovating getting done or has for a significant length of time been old, then, you don't need to anticipate a serious level of solace from it. For this current situation, home patching up association is irrefutable, and offering it to qualified prepared professionals is great.

House redesigning opens up a ton of chances for its proprietor. In such a home, one can without a truly noteworthy stretch recreate the nature of a respectable space, a pleasing wooden log house, a Swiss chalet or the style of a cutting edge European dwelling. On the off chance that there is a gigantic residing space in the house, you can make a substitute office, a studio, a film lobby, a room with preparing machines or even a pool room with a bar. Obviously, home remaking relies on your creative mind totally and whether you bring back home redoing associations you can offer your propensities in general.

With the overhaul of the condo, you can make an open kitchen, perhaps even two stories with an inside show

Remake of a house, too as a condo, can be useful or capital. The fundamental choice is more practical, since it interprets just inside beautification. This is walls painting and upgrading, working on the housetop, laying the floor, building hot-smoked structures, introducing mechanical gatherings. Update of the house recalls all work for redevelopment, modernization of the water supply, sewage, power supply, ventilation and warming frameworks.

There are in addition different other extra associations that can be referenced while overhauling a characterized house:

underpinning of another rooftop, rafters and sponsorship frameworks, channels, space windows, warm protection and waterproofing of the plan; supporting the premise of the house; fabricating a storm cellar; completing the veneer of the house, other planning intercessions.

The spending plan for the recreating of a confidential house is settled thinking about how much work, the state of the plan and its full scale staying space. Subject to the materials utilized, as well as the degree of accessible associations, the expense of work not totally settled.

Fixing consolidates work basically concerning uprooting the completing coatings of walls, floors or roofs without the need for any developments to the arranging structures in the space, or changes in its fundamental parts. All around, home improvement: annihilating the continuous culmination, to some degree evening out the surfaces, filling, painting, getting done and laying another floor covering is standard. Rather than the redesign, modifying home improvement is associated with lower expenses and terms of performing of work. Such improvement, all around, doesn't need coordination with the lodging inspectorate.

For More Info:-

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San Antonio Westphall Remodeling

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[punkpoemprose]

The Patient- A Kristanna Paramedic Oneshot

Universe: Modern AU/ Paramedic AU

Rating: T (13+)

Length: 2267 Words

Summary: Anna has to call 911 after a small fire breaks out in her condo. The hot blonde paramedic is the best and worst part of her day.

A/N: Day 10 of the 2022 Advent Calendar. I’ve managed to get behind again, of course, and I had to write this prone on my bedroom floor because I’ve fucked my back up, but you know what, I’m going to keep going anyway. Please ignore any factual errors about paramedics and medicine here, I did a little research, but otherwise I just wanted these two idiots to smooch under a new circumstance.

Today was, decidedly, not Anna’s day.

She sat, mortified, in the back of the ambulance with the most attractive man she’d ever met in her life, mutely checking her over for injuries.

“Really, I’m alright,” she said, then coughed, “I didn’t get burnt or anything when I was turning off the oven and using the fire extinguisher, I just couldn’t let the smoke out of my kitchen because the window was painted shut.”

She coughed again, not exactly proving her point that she was, in fact, fine. This was what she got for paying someone to renovate her condo without triple checking all their references and their work. Her detail obsessed sister would be so disappointed in her.

“Smoke inhalation is a very serious problem Ms. Arendelle.”

He was so serious in both tone and expression when he turned to his colleague to ask them to grab a mask and an oxygen canister.

She felt her face grow hot, and it had nothing to do with the fact that she maybe had inhaled a little too much smoke when her oven decided to catch fire for no good reason, other than perhaps spite. She’d just bought it and had it installed, and she wasn’t wholly convinced that the ghost of her last oven wasn’t possessing the new one because she’d only been preheating the empty appliance when the fire started inside it.

“Really, I’m fine.”

He was having none of it. He gave her a very unimpressed look, which both frustrated her and contributed to her blush. He was very attractive, but he also was clearly a hard-ass with lacking bedside manner.  

She glanced at the name tag attached to his shirt and read “K. Bjorgman”.

K? Kyle? Kameron? Karson?

No, none of those seemed quite right for Mr. Hard-ass.

“Here’s that tank Kristoff.”

Kristoff? What the hell kind of name was that? Must be short for Kristoffer.

“Are you refusing treatment?”

She looked from his nametag back to his face. He looked infuriatingly displeased and she thought about saying that she was just to bug him, but that probably wasn’t ideal for her health given that the other paramedic hadn’t argued with him about the need for oxygen.

“No, I just think this is a little overkill probably, it was just a small kitchen fire.”

“With no ventilation where your oven was burning… what exactly?”

“Itself,” she answered miserably, “Because of course it would.”

“Right, so potentially plastic, chemical surfactants and whatever else should or shouldn’t have been in there at the point of ignition.”

She threw her hands up, “Yeah, sure. Whatever you say Mr. expert.”

He seemed to smile, just a small quirk in the corner of his mouth, but it was something. She wasn’t sure whether he was just used to getting what he wanted and was happy because his gruff attitude and good looks combo was working out for him once again, or whether he actually found her funny.

She was mad that it made him somehow even more attractive and that it made her want to continue to comply.

***

Elsa was going to pick her up at the hospital as soon as she could get out of work, which would be… God only knew when. She was sitting crankily glaring at her cellphone screen by herself in the hospital cafeteria with her hand bandaged because she had, evidently, managed a injury… from the fire extinguisher. She didn’t remember pinching the side of her hand between the trigger mechanism and the can, she hadn’t even felt it until she was being checked out in the emergency room, where they’d discharged her for not showing any signs of serious smoke inhalation, as she’d suspected despite Mr. Kristoff “hard-ass” Bjorman Paramedic’s insistence that she be checked out.

“Glad to hear you’ve been discharged.”

The voice was unfamiliar, quiet, and warm, and she could hardly believe her eyes and ears when she turned to see who was speaking and found a somewhat muscular, smiling blonde man in a paramedic’s uniform. He was holding a cafeteria tray, looking genuinely glad to see her there. The nametag on his pocket, of course read K. Bjorgman, and she almost rubbed her eyes to confirm that she was not hallucinating the man smiling before her. It was the same man, but now he seemed not just attractive, but approachable.

God, if I feel that uniform it’ll be made of boyfriend material.

She tried to shut off the parts of her mind that were rapidly ceasing to be annoyed with him. She was still having a terrible day, and she was not about to let someone who had a role in making her day worse suddenly swoop in to make it even more upsetting by being so attractive in her vicinity that she was bound to embarrass herself.

“Yeah, they said I was fine.”

She looked back from him, down to her phone and started scrolling blindly through some social media site or another, she wasn’t paying any attention to what was passing by on her screen. She wasn’t really interested in her phone at all, she just didn’t want him to stick around and watch her make an ass of herself.

“Yeah… I’m sorry I was so pushy about encouraging you to come to the hospital by the way. It’s hard to tell how much smoke someone’s inhaled on scene and I’m always a little extra worried about it. I hope my behavior doesn’t make you pause before contacting emergency services again if you ever need it.”

She looked up from her phone and saw the genuine remorse in his expression which threw her off entirely. He really had nothing to be sorry for, he’d just been doing his job and she had honestly felt a little bit better after getting oxygen and being checked out, even if she wasn’t seriously hurt. There was peace of mind in being sure that she hadn’t accidentally scorched her airways or something.

“It’s okay… I watch too many tv dramas so I probably would have been worried that I was dying later anyway. Better to be checked out and cleared than to have my sister plan a funeral.”

“I’m glad you see it that way,” he said, looking a little less repentant and a little more appreciative, “I usually don’t get a chance to talk to people after I get them to the hospital, but you were the last call I was on for the night so I’m glad I decided on hospital food for dinner. If it’s not too awkward, maybe I could sit with you while you’re waiting for your ride?”

“Yeah, I might be here for a while, so I don’t expect you to sit with me the whole time.”

But I do want you to sit with me for some of the time, just so I can memorize the way you’re looking at me right now like you really do care.

She was so screwed.

“Your ride coming from far away?”

“No,” Anna answered honestly, shrugging her shoulders, “She’s just a workaholic, so she’ll get me when she decides to leave the office.”

He frowned then, but then quickly covered the displeasure she registered by sitting down in the empty chair across from her and smiling.

“Is it usually advisable to fraternize with a patient?”

He laughed at that, “I wouldn’t really call this fraternizing, just checking in, and you haven’t been my patient for over an hour now. If you’d like me to go though, that’s something I’d comply with, no questions asked. I don’t want to violate your right to privacy.”

She shook her head. She knew that she should tell him to go because she was just waiting for the other shoe to drop, but something told her that him being around wasn’t really a bad thing.

Maybe I’m going to choke on my water and he’s supposed to be here to give me mouth to mouth or whatever.

She was a little peeved with herself that she didn’t know whether that would an improvement or worsening of her day.

“No, you can stay. I guess I could use the company.”

He smiled at that, and Anna thought that she’d never seen anyone look more genuinely happy in her life.

***

Kristoff was rather pleased with himself when he dusted his hands off on his jeans and looked around at the condo around him. The new, new oven was installed and functioning and all the windows were opening and closing as they were meant to. He’d also helped Anna to fix a cabinet that wasn’t closing properly in her bathroom and touched up some badly painted crown molding, not because it was dangerous or inconvenient, but because she’d seemed annoyed by it.

“Kristoff you’re my hero!”

He snort laughed, unable to help himself.

“Not usually the context in which I hear that, but I’ll take it.”

She swatted him playfully and he’d never felt prouder of himself than he did when she smiled at him appreciatively.

He’d been nervous when he’d approached her in the hospital cafeteria a month before. He knew that it wasn’t really protocol to follow up with a transport after arriving to the hospital unless it was through the official paperwork laden path. He’d been unable to help himself when he’d seen her alone and moping the in the hospital cafeteria, knowing that he was at least in part, the cause of her frustration.

Now he was grateful to himself for taking the leap.

They’d talked for over an hour over terrible soggy French fries and coffee, and when she hadn’t heard a word from her sister, her only support system, he’d been the one to drive her home.

After that she’d asked him for his cell number, asking him if it would be alright for her to maybe text him to get a drink sometime. He’d agreed, letting the ball be firmly in her court regarding whether they would meet up again.

He’d been thrilled when she’d asked him out for drinks the next night and had let him in a little more. He’d never really been great at making friends, but when he was with Anna it had felt natural to talk about himself and listen to her talk about her own life.

Many more nights of dinner and drinks had lead them to the sort of comfortable friendship they were enjoying now.

She’d told him about her job and how she was sometimes scared that her parents wouldn’t have been proud of her being a kindergarten teacher when their family history was all about business and law. He’d told her about how his parents dying in a fire from smoke inhalation had made him want to be a paramedic like the one who had saved him with the help of firefighters when he’d been three years old.

She’d told him about how ashamed she was about her condo because she’d been almost certainly cheated by her contractor given the shoddy workmanship evident in her home, especially when compared to how much she’d paid. As soon as she’d told him about being too embarrassed to tell her workaholic sister about the situation because of her history of thinking of Anna as “flighty” and “impulsive”, and how she didn’t want to sue the contractor or hire a new one lest her sister find out, he’d offered to help her fix the issues that made it an unsafe place to live.

Helping people stay safe was his job after all.

He hadn’t told her that the offer had nothing to do with work, that nothing with her felt like work.

“Seriously Kris,” she said warmly, wrapping her arms around his waist for a surprise hug, “I don’t know how I lucked out to get you in my life.”

“Well you had a contractor who installed a recalled stove and painted your windows shut… I don’t know how lucky you were.”

She swatted his back playfully, but then slipped her hand up his back slowly.

It felt amazing.

She pulled him in a little closer and he settled his hands on her waist, hoping that she didn’t mind the contact.

“Are you sure you won’t let me pay you for the help?”

The question was genuine, he thought, but also she didn’t seem to be thinking too much about it with her eyes portraying something a little more pleasure than business.

He shook his head and then ducked his head down, just slightly, slowly, to see how she would react.

She pressed into him, any space between them now eliminated by her insistent contact.

When she went up on her tiptoes to close the distance between their faces, he let go of his worries that he may be overstepping and let her press a kiss to his lips.

“This,” he said, resting his forehead against hers after the chaste kiss, his hand working into her wavy red hair with great care “This is more than enough… just being with you is all I’ll ever need in return for all the help in the world. Being your friend Anna… that’s enough.”

She hummed appreciatively.

“What if I want to give you more than just friendship?”

His nose rubbed against the side of hers, he could feel the warmth of her cheek against his and despite the roughness of his stubble, she didn’t move away.

“Then I’ll be the lucky one.”

She kissed him again, and even with his eyes closed, he could imagine the smile on her lips, feeling it against his.

[petricakegames]

Devlog #3: Haesel Hotel

You know what's really fun and definitely a *crucial* part of the creative process? Designing fake logos for your fake world:

"What an odd concept that was to you at first--that some people live at the Haesel. A hotel isn't a home, you had thought then, it's a place you go to get away from home. But the more time you spend here, the more you understand never wanting to leave."

On the plus side, a bunch of actual work has gotten done on the game, too! I'm still slowly figuring out a lot of back-end and UI stuff but I'm pleased with how it's coming along. The entire prologue sequence is written and mostly scripted. The first third of one of the branching paths is written. And I've got squishy plot shapes for the others--plot gummy worms, if you will.

Word count: 5,000 approx

I've been working a lot on improving my descriptions and setting the vibe. There's still a lot of room for improvement, but it's been fun to recognize the moments in my writing that I can make better. In the past, I've rushed to the finish line--hurryhurryhurry get it done get it posted get on to the next thing. It was not a process that brought me much satisfaction or happiness. With this, I'm taking my time. I'm mulling and pruning and making it better. (I hope, anyway) Though I'm looking forward to the finished game and sharing it, I'm not racing to try and get there. Damn, it's such a relief 😂

Suspect #2: Tiffani Delareux (formerly Brightman), the ex-wife

"Mrs. Brightman--you mean Ms. Delareux--is a newer addition to the regular faces at the Haesel. Former wife of Jason, the deceased, she has been a long-term guest of the hotel for the last few months as her condo undergoes renovations.

Supposedly.

Host of the local morning show Rise Happy, Y'all!, frequent star in tv commercials and a featured extra on an episode of Murder She Wrote, Ms. Delareux brings the allure of celebrity to your hotel. Though several of the staff believe the allure has more to do with her ex-husband and their less than secret affair. You're the only one who seems to have heard anything about their new business partnership..."

Up next: the Detective, more writing and more scripting!

[bookishofalder]

Saviours Coffee House [Prologue]

Summary: Negan hires a new manager.

Warnings: Language! We’re starting off tame, but get ready because future parts get dark. WC—+2.7k.

A/N: Even if you aren’t a The Walking Dead fan, you might like this story—it’s a coffee shop A/U, I really only take the characters from TWD!

Now

Your eyes were only on Negan as he stalked forward, his normally bright eyes dark with fury as he clenched the baseball bat in his hands. You’d never seen him so angry...you’d never seen anyone so angry. Apprehension coiled in your gut, your mind blank, a doe caught in the headlights. You knew you had to move, to stop him—but part of you almost didn’t want to.

It was the part of you that had been beaten and broken over and over screaming for it to end. Screaming for you to let it happen.

And fuck, you wanted to listen to her.

Maybe you would.

—

Way Back

Negan Dean was sat at his desk, staring at the computer monitor in front of him without really seeing it. His mind had wandered away from the shop's accounting, the task he needed to complete. He had reason to be distracted, though, as he was in desperate need of a new manager, and he had a few interviews lined up that afternoon.

He’d put off rehiring for too long, left the manager position open and simply worked himself to the bone, running the place and leading it. But it had been months.

He’d needed to keep busy, after Lucille...no, he wasn’t thinking of her today. He needed to get the accounts sorted, have some lunch, and then start the interviews.

That was today’s game plan, and he was sticking to it. The extra work had finally caught up to him, as he knew it would. He was ready to step back because he was fucking exhausted and wanted to focus on his role as the owner of the Saviours Coffee House, behind the scenes. He needed a full-time manager to run the floor, someone smart and competent and good with people.

Simon had been on his ass for a while now about it, but he’d resolutely ignored his long-time friend, too stubborn for his own good. He knew Simon was right. But it was going to be on his fucking orders that a new person joined the tea—his family—even if it meant he’d fallen asleep in his office some nights, slumped over his desk in pure exhaustion.

Negan finished his task and stood, stretching out the kinks in his back, before making his way out onto the loft that overlooked most of the shop below. He had a few couches up here, and a little kitchenette next to his office, the area acting as a staff room in many ways; customers could not come up. At the opposite end of the loft, a door led up to the next floor, which was Negan’s condo. He’d bought the entire three-storey after the recession, gutted the whole thing and, working with a crew of mostly friends who had various trade jobs, renovated it entirely.

Negan was proud of Saviours Coffee House, a dream that he hadn’t always had come to life in the walls of what used to be an old, relatively small, textile factory. Now situated in the heart of downtown, it was the perfect spot for an edgy, laid-back place to unwind, meet friends, go on dates. Hell, Negan loved looking down and seeing a customer stay the whole day as they worked, even if they only bought one coffee. As far as he was concerned, the moment you spent a dime in his place, you were a customer for the day. And that had been a hit with many of the locals and students from the nearby university. Open five-thirty in the morning till eleven-thirty in the evening, Saviours welcomed all. So long as you kept your feet off the fucking tables and minded your manners.

In his former life, Negan worked as a high-ranking guard at the nearby penitentiary. It was a minimum-security, well-funded place where non-violent criminals ended up. He’d loved his years there, but after getting stabbed for the second time (the first was when he was young enough that he’d bounced back almost instantly) he decided to retire.

He sunk all of his savings into this dream, and years later had a lot to show for it. He’d also met a lot of down on their luck men in his time as a guard, so after Saviours became successful, he started a hiring program for white-collar criminals who completed a local, not-for-profit reintegration program. He only kept two on at a time, and most moved on after saving up enough.

Currently at the bar was Dwight, who’d been with Negan the longest now, having started just over a year before after getting out from serving time for drug possession. If Negan was proud of anything, it was Dwight. He’d seen the man evolve from a quiet asshole who barely grunted when customers paid, to a friendly bartender who mixed both amazing lattes and delicious cocktails, even if he grumbled about it. He was a fixture here now as much as Negan—and probably more well-liked, but Negan didn’t care about being liked. As long as people were happy, he was just fine.

It was the post-lunch lull now, so Dwight was wiping up the counters and switching the signs around from daytime menus to evening. Maggie, who had been working at Saviours for about two years, was wiping down the tables while Fleetwood Mac played over the expensive Bluetooth stereo system. He’d asked Maggie if she wanted the job, but she’d only laughed before telling him plainly that she had no desire to work full time or see him that much. He’d figured as much, seeing as she was in university, but he had wanted her to know it was hers if she did want it—she’d earned it.

Dwight was happy where he was, and didn’t want to upset the balance in life he’d worked so hard for, which Negan respected. His newest employee, also a convict hire, wasn’t up to scruff to become the manager, as much as he liked Paul, or ‘Jesus’, as everyone called him. He was a nice kid, worked hard, but seemed content working three part-time jobs. That had left Rosita and Tara, both part-time and students, and then Carol, part-time and not interested as she worked as a volunteer at the Children’s Hospital and didn’t want to give that up.

Which left him where he was now, stomping up the steps to his place to have a quick lunch before back-to-back interviews of promising contenders for a job he wished like hell he didn’t need to fill.

+

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ.” Negan slammed his hands onto the marble counter in frustration as Dwight watched him. He smirked as he tidied up the barista station.

“That bad, boss?” Dwight was shit at keeping the amusement off of his face. Negan scoffed, glancing behind him to ensure no customers were listening, but it was busy enough now with the after-class and work rush that the cacophony of voices and music allowed him to speak privately despite the location.

Negan held up one hand, holding his thumb and index finger a sliver apart. “I’ve got this much fucking patience left. Only one candidate wasn’t a god damned catfish and I didn’t like him,” He sighed, nodding gratefully when Dwight pointed to the espresso machine, knowing Negan needed his usual five o'clock pick-me-up. “I’ve got one last one; Daryl's friend. If she doesn’t fit, I’m going to have to beg Maggie—and you know she’ll love that too much to say yes.”

With a laugh, Dwight nodded in agreement, expertly moving about making Negan’s latte. “Carol seemed pretty sure you’d like her, said Daryl thinks of her like a little sister and when he heard you were looking for someone he was adamant she’d be perfect.”

Negan sighed, “Yeah, and I like Daryl so if this doesn’t work out and I have to start hating him I’m going to be real pissed off. Thanks, D.” He added when Dwight passed over the piping hot drink, still grinning at Negan’s displeasure.

Dwight dipped his head forward, eyes behind Negan, “I think that must be her, don’t recognize her and she’s dressed too nice for this place.” With that, he turned away and started loading dishes into one of the dishwashers. Negan turned, eyes scanning for the potential candidate, and he didn’t have to look far.

Because there you were, right out of a fucking dream.

Dwight had been right, you were dressed far too nicely for Saviours, but perfect for an interview (which instantly gave you points over a few of the previous interviewees). You were weaving by a few men who were standing at a high table and hadn’t yet noticed Negan, which allowed him to survey you.

The pretty green dress paired with a smart leather jacket and shiny kitten heels gave off an air of sophistication, accentuated your curves beautifully, and rendered his mind to mush for a brief moment. You wore your hair down, and it fell in elegant waves around your shoulders. Fuck, though, if you weren’t the prettiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

He thought Carol had mentioned you were in your mid-twenties, but you walked with more confidence about you than one usually saw in those formative years. Already impressed, Negan pushed himself away from the counter, stepped forward and smiled.

You looked around, his movement catching your eye, and returned the smile warmly as you approached. No doubt, you’d looked up their social media, seen pictures of Negan. Any smart candidate would do that, and Negan could already tell you were a clever girl. He called your name over the music, and you nodded, extending your hand

Negan took it into his and shook, enjoying how small your hand was compared to his. You were curvy and petite in the best ways, so much shorter than him but fully voluptuous, and you dressed like you knew you looked damn good, fuck whatever society said about beauty standards. “Mr. Dean, it’s great to meet you, sir.”

Negan grinned down at you, then pointed toward the staircase to your left, “Come on up, it’s quieter in the office.” And he led the way.

When he glanced back to make sure you were following, Negan saw you looking toward Dwight, giving him a friendly wave. He gave you a nod, a near smile, a pretty decent result from the house grump. He needed a manager who could get along with everyone, so right there was another point in your favour.

Closing the door brought the loudness of Saviours down to mere background noise, the evening crowds were always loud as shit. Negan loved it, the differences between the start and end of days, the energy. He gestured toward two armchairs he had, hating the process of sitting behind a desk to interview like he was some hot shot lawyer. He preferred the less intimidating, friendly way. It was just a coffee shop, after all.

A damn good one, though.

When you settled, Negan took his seat across from you, suddenly feeling a little distracted under the gaze of your bright eyes. “Well I’ll get straight to it; you come highly recommended by both Carol and Daryl. I won’t lie, I’m a pain in the ass to work for and I’m looking for someone who can handle hard work, long hours and most importantly, get along with my people. You really think that’s you?”

You were sitting with your back straight, legs crossed at the ankles, hands in your lap. You looked entirely at ease, meeting Negan’s eyes straight on as he spoke. When he finished, you leaned forward almost imperceptibly, your response instant.

“I’m exactly what you’re looking for, sir. I love people and get along with everyone. Do you think I’m best friends with Daryl and don’t know how to deal with a pain in the ass?” At this, Negan smirked, “I’m hardworking, and I have no other major commitments, so full time and long hours will suit me just fine.” You had a lovely voice, which was probably why you’d stayed working at the sales call centre for years before now.

In your resume, Negan had noted the year gap in wor—you had stopped working for the call centre just over a year ago, though it was noted you were a freelance writer and kept income that way. But he found it curious that you’d been working since you were a teenager and yet hadn't worked a solid job in a year. And now that he’d met you, he could see you were the hardworking type. Carol hadn’t known why you’d been away from a job for so long, stating that Daryl knew but didn’t tell her. He had said it didn’t matter, and that was good enough for Negan.

“Well, I’ll admit, on paper you’re ideal, which is why I scheduled you last today. I wanted to have time to read you.”

“And,” You interjected, a small smirk on your lips, “You know that keeping someone waiting the whole day for an interview will shred their nerves and leave them more susceptible to letting their true colours out.”

Negan stared, surprised, “Can’t get much past you, eh?”

You shrugged, “It’s a good tactic. But I assure you, I’m just as competent in the evening as the morning, and I think if you give me a chance to prove myself, you’ll be very happy with hiring me, Mr. Dean. I want to work here, you have an amazing place. It’s a part of this community, and the reintegration program is something I respect greatly, I have no issues working with men hired from there.” You paused, adjusting yourself slightly, palms falling open on your legs, “And, I’ll be frank, I want a job that has long days, that’ll keep me busy and tire me out and let me build relationships with customers. When I found out you were hiring, I jumped on the chance for Daryl to have Carol put in a good word for me. It just seems...right, to work here.”

“What about your writing, do you still do that?” Negan watched your face closely, and it didn’t waver, instead, your smile widened.

“I can write anywhere, anytime. And I make my own schedule with whatever commissions I take on, so it’ll be easy to write on my days off, or breaks if I don’t have a day off,” You pointed at Negan’s phone, which he’d set on the wide arm of his chair, “I can also help with writing any social media or website content, I know Carol mentioned you wanted to expand that presence, and I’m comfortable with that sort of work.”

Negan considered you, letting a comfortable silence fall as he thought over your words. You did seem eager, excited, and the fact that you’d researched what he was looking for impressed him further. Breaking eye contact, he glanced down at your resume once more, though he couldn’t think of anything else to ask. If he was honest with himself, he was ready to hire you after the first two minutes.

“I like you,” He said, thrumming his hands on his knees, “When can you start?”

“In the morning? Or I can go home, have my dinner and come back dressed more appropriately for work, if you need me straight away, sir.”

Negan shook his head, both as a response and in an attempt to toss away the thoughts that stirred up in the back of his mind every time you called him ‘sir’. “Tomorrow morning is perfect. And since you work for me now, you can call me Negan, asshole, or shithead, no more ‘Mr. Dean’ or fucking, ‘sir’, okay?”

When you smiled at Negan, it was the most dazzling he’d seen yet, bright white teeth and sweet dimples making his heart stutter. Damn, you really affected him. He needed to get a gri—you were half his age, for Christ's sake.

“Thank you, Negan,” You stood, holding your hand out and grasping his when he offered, your head tilting back to look at him as he stood before you. “Really, I promise I’ll make you proud.”

“Kid, I don’t doubt it.” He replied softly, and for a moment you simply looked at one another. Negan wasn't sure if you felt it, but he did; it was a spark. Fleeting, but strong enough that he knew life was about to get interesting again.

Taglist: @mermaidxatxheart @paintballkid711 @ladydmalfoy 🤍

[more-than-a-princess]

@electricea​ asked:  🏊🏻‍♂️

Nightlife Starters

"It's...quite something, truly," Sonia answered, still looking up at the rows of fairy lights against the clear, ink-blue sky. They were fighting with the stars above for attention, not quite unlike Ryuji seemed to be doing in comparison with the surroundings of their outing he'd planned, though he seemed far more keen for her good opinion than anything else. She would've been perfectly content with a visit to a local swimming pool, but he'd insisted this one would be special. And quite unlike the water park they'd visited before, full of shouting children and queues for all of the attractions.

He'd been right about that: the pool he'd taken her to was on top of a recently-renovated hotel in Roppongi, something luxurious with, if she had to guess, had a price tag to match considering the fellow clientele and the sorts of offerings on the evening poolside menu. Unlike their previous aquatic excursion, no children were allowed as an array of twenty and thirty-somethings stretched out on lounge chairs, sent requests to a DJ booth in the corner, milled about the edge of the pool and, for perhaps the braver or tipsy attendees, took to the water early to beat the summer evening heat. "No, it's wonderful and an excellent idea, Ryuji-san, thank you. I think the only other option we may have had, besides staying in my condo's central air conditioning, is eating our weight in shaved ice!"

She gave a small laugh at the thought: refreshing but horrible for their health. At least with such exclusive tickets, they had no trouble finding a pair of lounge chairs that were free, complete with several towels neatly rolled on each one and a leather-bound menu of the various poolside culinary offerings. Sonia set her large straw tote bag at the end of one: she'd brought her usual swimming essentials. A change of clothes, a book, a bottle of water, a plastic bag or two for her wet swimsuit afterwards. But the sunglasses and sunscreen, she realized, had been rather foolhardy additions: they were having a night swim after all. They wouldn't be needed. With a shake of her head, it at least made the situation far less awkward. She'd needed something to distract her: not from the good time, but from how much Ryuji must have worked and saved in order to afford an evening out like this. She smiled at him, reaching for the topmost buttons on her cotton sundress. The tiny flower print far more suited the daylight hours too, considering the flashy accessories many of the other attendees wore. It was like a high-end lounge, except instead of cocktail dresses there were bikinis.

"What should we do first?" She asked him, midway through slipping each button free of their buttonholes to reveal part of her light blue and white striped bikini she wore underneath. It was easier not to maintain eye contact: what if...what if he thought she was being inappropriate towards him while she was in the midst of, essentially, stripping? He'd only invited her on a friendly outing after all. Besides, Sonia trusted him not to act inappropriately, whether it was a look or a gesture. He was not only respectful, but surely he held no interest in her like that. "Should we swim first, or should we order something to eat or drink?"

[hopelessly-me]

I wish you would write a fic where Clint is extremely competent in a surprising skill (and seduces [your choice] in spite of it, because of it, or with it).

Hi anon! =) This skill may not be overly surprising, at least it wasn’t to me, but it was to Bucky. I hope you enjoy. (word count 1472)

In his defense, Bucky did not purposely break things in his home- he had just bought a rundown condo that needed a lot of repairs that he kinda knew about when he bought it but hadn’t thought much of it because he had gone with the idea that maybe it wouldn’t happen right away. He had been wrong. So very wrong. Ever since he bought the space, it seemed like every week something was happening and Bucky just- he didn’t have the energy to deal with it. Hydra never deemed home repairs to be a necessary skill for their assassin, so Bucky hadn’t even learned the basics, but he was trying.

But… the try part took a back seat the first time Steve had suggested that he call Clint. Bucky grumbled about it- he was used to watching Clint do all sorts of things the wrong way. When you work with a guy that leaps out of buildings like it’s a fun game to chance, you kind of assume that person’s an idiot. A skilled idiot, sure, but an idiot. And how many times had Bucky watched Clint fumble his way through competency testing at SHIELD? Or the time he got smacked in the face, not once, but twice, by a robot he was supposed to be dodging? Bucky hadn’t bought the lack of caffeine mumbling, and blamed it on the fact that Clint Barton was 100% a disaster.

But Steve swore Clint was the guy to call for help so he did. It was better to have someone he knew in his space instead of calling and asking for the name of a repair man so he could do a background check two weeks deep before his dishwasher could be fixed. Within an hour Clint had shown up at Bucky’s condo, carrying a duffle bag with him. After a short greeting, Clint went to the kitchen and went to work. 

And honestly- it was something. That extreme focus he got on missions was the same as when he worked on anything. Dishwasher, ceiling fan, the bathroom when the plumbing seemed to be a problem. Anything Bucky called him about, Clint seemed to know exactly what he was doing. If it was an easier fix, Bucky and Clint would chat about whatever came up, and usually Clint was the one who started it. If it was harder, Bucky stood off to the side in case he needed help with something but otherwise he watched him work and wonder just how Clint got good at all of this.

But this? This was almost too much. Bucky was seated and watching Clint as he worked on the electrical in the laundry room. He had started by checking the obvious things first, the plug, the outlet, the cords in the room. With a sigh he asked if he could take down the wall because he was positive that it was something in the back, likely a short wire. Without any reluctance, Bucky agreed, and Clint went to work. Now he was standing on a step ladder, working on something above his head, his shirt riding up, or his pants riding low, Bucky couldn’t tell and he didn’t care. All he cared about was the fact that Clint’s arms were in motion, which had always been hypnotizing enough, but now he got to see abs and he wasn’t sure he was going to make it through this session.

“You should let me just tear this place apart and start new,” Clint commented.

“What?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah. I mean. You can afford it, we both know it,” Clint answered, shoving some line through a hole he had made to where the breaker was, a new wire he had to attach him. “This place is really outdated with the electrical and the plumbing. Nothing that will start a fire yet but… I know how to do the fixes this place needs. I can run it cheaper than other renovators. And what I don’t know I can figure out with some books and youtube videos. I mean, it’s how I learned most of this stuff anyway.”

“How… long would something like that take?” Bucky asked, because if that meant more time with Clint like this he was pretty sure he was ready to sign up.

Clint looked over and flashed him one of his bright and snarky smiles. “Tired of hanging out with me already?” he asked, teasing before he looked back at his work.

“No. But if you do all that work, I’m going to have to pay you,” Bucky pointed out.

“Uh- no? I mean, I can’t always be here working on it, but I can plan on doing the hard stuff for a few days in a row that way if I have to leave for a mission you have a mostly functional space, just a little torn up.” Clint stepped down from the ladder and walked over to his tool bag, digging through it before pulling out a tag and a pen, writing on it. “But you don’t have to pay me.”

“What about… in pizza and coffee?” 

Clint looked up from the tag and grinned. “The way into my heart,” he replied before he turned and climbed back onto the ladder, back to his abs showing and yeah, it was definitely the shirt riding up Bucky decided. “Just think about it, alright? It would take me a couple of weeks, but I can get this place in tiptop shape so you aren’t having one emergency after another.”

“Maybe I like having the emergencies,” Bucky said before he could give it much thought. 

The moment the words processed in his head, alarms started to sound. It was toeing the line of flirting, or maybe possibly suggesting that he liked having Clint around, and maybe more. Clint wasn’t exactly stupid, he could see through Bucky’s game right? But he was also oblivious, so maybe he hadn’t.

This time, Clint paused and looked over questioningly. Bucky put on his confident smile, the one he had learned back when he was a kid, back when he knew he could fake his confidence with the right look. The problem was- Clint had that annoying ability to read people and see through the masks. The problem was, Bucky was sure Clint could see through this one.

And then he smiled that bright smile, and chuckled before he looked back at his work, muttering something inaudible under his breath. Whether he saw through it or not was lost on Bucky now since Clint hadn’t made a comment. But something was there in that look, Bucky could swear he saw… was it hope? Shyness? A bit of awkwardness? Maybe it was Bucky putting his feelings into the situation, but he thought maybe it was a dare- almost begging him to say something more.

Bucky was frozen for a moment, watching as Clint hopped off the ladder and moved to where the electrical outlet was, whistling as he worked. He watched the way his body swayed a little to whatever song it was being whistled into existence, and wanted to move closer to watch as his fingers worked carefully at securing the wire in it’s spot. He wanted to know if he was right that Clint was just daring him to take it a step further while being terrified to learn the results.

“Fuck it,” Bucky said as he got up.

“Fuck what?” Clint asked innocently.

Bucky had taken a few steps by the time Clint had turned around. Bucky got into his space, bracing his hands on the wall on either side of Clint, and kissed him, surprised when it was reciprocated. But it was short lived before Clint leaned away, raising an eyebrow, his lips pulling up into a smile that he would get before he would start laughing.

“What?” Bucky asked.

“Screw.”

“What?”

“I made a funny joke in my head about being screwed,” Clint said, holding up his screwdriver. “And then I dropped the screw for the outlet panel and I can’t-”

“... you are fucking kidding, right?” Clint let out that laugh and shook his head, his whole face lighting up as it scrunched. For a moment, Bucky thought about punching him. But that joy on Clint’s face made the thought fizzle out and he couldn’t help but feel fondly exasperated. “You’re the worst,” he said, unable to hold back his smile when Clint’s eyes opened and locked onto his.

“I am,” Clint confirmed. “We can maybe try it again after you buy me pizza?”

Bucky nodded slowly. “Maybe after pizza,” he agreed. “And you grab that screw.”

“That’s after the third date,” Clint replied with a wink, laughing even louder than before when Bucky’s face heated up. “You are so going to regret you kissed me.”

“Challenge accepted.”

[utterlyinevitable]

After seeing ur explanation for that anon i really want to see a fic or a hc of ethan as a dad and becca as mom can u please do it??

omg okay ahhh my babys having babies. this is gonna be long and idk if it’ll make sense bc imma jot down everything i know about domestic e&b.  

[just finished and... this is long and broken down into 6 categories........... enjoy!]

Ethan & Becca as Parents

The Pregnancy 

They didn’t plan on having children, it just kind of happened. Becca and Ethan took a day for the news to settle before they jumped into excited, expecting parents mode.

The most exciting part was renovating the condo to make the most perfect nursery and shopping for decorations and mentally planning all the traditions and things they’d love to give to their little family. 

All of the happiness couldn’t mask the struggles of pregnancy. 

Becca hated being pregnant. She was sick and nauseous constantly, and her back and feet always ached. 

Throughout the whole thing Ethan doted on her; holding her hair back and learning how to tie it up in the way she likes, rubbing her back, running out to get whatever she was craving. 

He even made copious amounts of notes about her eating patterns. Enough to keep two of everything in the condo. 

If she was having a restless night, he would too; even if she was restless for non-human-growing reasons. 

They were in this together.

And even when she was huddled over a garbage pail, dribble running down her chin, she never looked more beautiful to him. 

There was just something about all this that made him feel all weird and fuzzy inside. 

When her symptoms barely settled throughout the second trimester she overhauled her entire birthing plan. There was no way she was making it to 42 weeks. She was absolutely miserable. So she made a c-section appointment for 40 weeks. 

She had an entire argument with Ethan one evening (she really was only yelling while he nodded his head). Her main points were:  “It’s my body and the baby will be fine. I was born 6 weeks early and I turned out fantastic!” and  “Once the baby’s out of me I’m still going to have to pee. Omg what if she rips me open!? How am I supposed to use the bathroom without worrying about my stitches?”  

All he kept reiterating was:  “I love you. I trust you and your instincts.” 

Becca felt better as he held her face in his large hands, his calming azure eyes boring into hers and letting her know everything will be alight. 

But deep down she spent the next few weeks since making the appointment wondering if she should have given vaginal birth a try. She didn’t want Ethan to resent her for chickening out of her body’s natural function. 

The Birth 

Becca made it to her c-section appointment. Happily rubbing her large belly and glowing:  “I can’t wait to not be pregnant anymore! Never do this to me again.” 

All Ethan did was chuckle. 

He was happy she was getting color back and that her symptoms finally settled enough for her to spend the last few weeks enjoying their daughters kicks. But oh my god was Ethan Ramsey terrified of being a father. 

He wouldn’t tell Becca though. She was emotional and worried enough as is. Any and all his concerns were saved for the short conversations he had with his father.  “Don’t overthink it, son. The moment you lay eyes on your daughter you’ll know what to do. It’s instinct. Biology. That was your best subject in school, wasn’t it?” Alan would joke.  

The surgery went off without a hitch. 

All of Becca’s hatred for the phenomenon of pregnancy vanished the second the nurse placed their daughter on her chest. 

Rebecca was in awe. She made that! This little person came out of her! This little pink person that looks like a plucked chicken with a tiny tuft of brown hair was here and she was beautiful. The perfect combination of her and Ethan. 

The embodiment of their love.   

Dakota Dolores Ramsey was completely unplanned. Unplanned but not unwanted.  

The first time Ethan Ramsey held his daughter time froze. The universe needed a minute to process the broad grin and full heart thumping rapidly from this stoic and reserved man. 

The earth was about to spin the wrong way but then Dakota opened her eyes.

Everything was the way divinity had planned it.  

At Home

Although Ethan and Becca lived a 10 minutes drive from Edenbrook, nearly a straight run, Becca forced him to drive as slow as possible. 

Dakota was asleep and she needed to keep it that way. 

Due to her stitches, Becca was forced to take things easy. No matter how many times she argued with Ethan that she was capable of menial tasks around the house. 

Ethan would not let her lift a finger. 

If Dakota needed a change he’d happily do it. if Becca was hungry he’d make her favorite. 

“You had her to yourself for nine months. Let me take the next few days.” Becca went to retort, all she wanted was to hold her baby for the rest of eternity. She’d never tire of looking at her scrunched up potato face and watching as her features changed every moment of every day. “I promise to share.” “You better,” she kissed him as he tucked her into bed for a much needed nap.

The only thing he was forced to share with his partner was feeding duty - Becca was adamant on breast feeding. A bottle would not touch their daughters lips for months to come. 

That in itself brought its own challenges. 

Most nights Ethan laid in bed with Becca curled up at his side in one arm and Dakota resting on his bare chest. 

Parenting was weird, but an exhilarating change. 

Ethan couldn’t diagnose what he could have possibly have done right in his life to be this wholly happy. 

The Second

Once Ethan and Becca had one child they were both itching for a second.

“You know what say: ‘if you have one you have to have two’.” “Is that so?”  “You don’t want Dakota to have a sibling?”  “I was an only child and look how I turned out.”  “Emotionally stunted and certified loner?” she teased. 

Truth be told, Ethan wanted another. He’s been thinking of giving his pride and joy a few siblings for weeks now. He just didn’t know how to tell Becca. 

Becca complained frequently about how happy she was to not be pregnant, and often about how her scar healed funnily. 

All of the signs pointed to her not wanting another. And Ethan was okay with that. He never expected to have one child. He’d cherish every moment of what’s been placed right in his fingertips. 

He’ll let his soon-to-be wife choose their path. She’s dictated everything else thus far. Ethan was elated she chose him to be along for the ride. 

After Dakota’s first birthday, when they made the decision to have another, they tried desperately to conceive.

“I really don’t want to have to deal with diapers for five years,” was Becca’s main reason for keeping the kids close in age.  “We can try surrogacy.” Ethan offered, knowing how much she hated pregnancy. He didn’t want to push her into anything.    “No. I have to do it. I’ll do it for our kids. But you owe me big time.”  

And 14 months later Caroline Marie Ramsey made her grand appearance. 

And Becca got her first push present. 

The Last 

It’s fitting that four years later Ethan and Becca were blessed with another surprise. 

Her pregnancy with James Jonah was the smoothest of them all. 

Of course that meant something had to go wrong. 

At 34 weeks Becca went into premature vaginal labor. 

Within six hours their baby boy arrived. 5lbs 2oz and looking like an alien. 

Ethan almost lost them both after the fact. 

Becca lost too much blood with the placenta and JJ was so tiny.  

But the Lao’s were fighters and they pulled through. Ethan cried at her bedside once the harrowing 24 hours were up. 

Becca stayed at the hospital for a week, Ethan and Alan bringing the girls to visit every single day. 

JJ had to stay a few days longer and Becca refused to leave until she could bring her son home. 

She went through her first experience with postpartum depression. Becca didn’t think anything could be worse than the mental toll her abortion had on her years earlier. But she was wrong.

She was so wrong. 

All their friends chipped in to help take care of the kids while Ethan devoted his time to helping his wife. The couple went to therapy, sometimes together, other times Ethan sat in the waiting room as Becca worked through her emotions. 

Months later, the parents were sitting at home. Ethan held their son and their daughters were curled on their laps: He muttered into his wife’s hair, “I’d like to have one more.”  “Not with me you’re not,” she scoffed. “We’re outnumbered as is.” 

JJ began to cry and the girls stirred. Dakota mumbling, “Tell the baby to shut up, I’m sleeping here.” 

They couldn’t help but laugh and pull apart to put their whole world to bed.  

Old and graying and spending more time at home with his kids, Ethan wanted just one more baby. Four was a strong, even number. He could have a whole daycare full of them - each one the best variations of him and Becca. 

Becca had spent a large portion of her 30s childrearing and she’s done. Done with diapers and formula, especially. She loves her children more than anything but they’re exhausting. She can’t wait for them to be in school full time and she can have some more alone time with her husband. It’s been so long since it’s been just them too.  

“Don’t hate me...”  “I could never hate you,” Ethan said as he brushed a few strands of hair from his wife’s face.  She swallowed and confidently said, “I want you to get a vasectomy.” 

He agreed without further consideration. She made a very compelling argument.  

Parenting 

Ethan is the doting helicopter dad and Becca is doctor drill sergeant. The kids get away with nothing under their mother’s watch. 

Ethan is very soft and adores his children. The grumpy attending could have a whole gaggle of them. He spoils his daughters rotten, picking up the newest doll and toy they’re obsessed with, and making them promise not to tell mommy. 

The women in Ethan’s life get away with everything and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

When the girls were born, Ethan stepped back at work letting the better Dr. Ramsey have her career defining moments.

He took half days to pick the girls up from preschool and would bring them to the park or museums. He’d even try to teach them to cook their favorite recipes on cold, rainy days. He’d tire them out so that he and mom could tuck them in after dinner.

Ethan’s afraid of his son. He’s afraid the tot is going to turn out exactly like him - he’s the spitting image, except that his hair curls like his mother’s. 

Instead of putting JJ in fulltime daycare, Ethan chose part time preschool. The girls were in primary school now and he’s taken a bigger step back from the hospital after the baby was born. 

He devotes all his free time to teaching his son about all he knows and learning all he doesn’t.  

Becca complains about the state of her vagina and stomach all the time. Never in front of the children but often enough Ethan knows the look on her face right before she says the same two lines.  

Her favorite activity is building forts and taking the kids to the beach. 

The holidays have never felt more alive with the full house. Ethan even became a Christmas and Valentines Day lover. 

Becca loved watching him change over the years. Every new first they celebrated with each child, every one of their kids passions, Ethan would adopt them all and make it his mission to be a connoisseur of every facet.

Dakota sat her parents down one day with a serious topic of conversation: “Mommy, Daddy. I’m going to be a fashion designer.” “Will you?”  “Yes. And I need to dress myself.” “As long as it’s weather appropriate, consider it done.”  “And we need to get supplies.” 

The conversation went on for 15 minutes with Ethan and Becca asking questions and Dakota making demands. Once they’ve settled on an agreement on how to make their daughter’s dream happen, Ethan retired to his office. He taught himself the basics of sewing.     

Even with all the struggles of raising three children in a suburb of Boston while balancing very demanding medical careers, Ethan and Becca wouldn’t have it any other way. The life they carved out of all their complications was worth it.  

All of this was inevitable. 

And they wouldn’t take a moment for granted.    

________________________________________

Um... this became bigger than intended... If you made it this far, thank you ♥

Masterlist

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Ethan:

@udishaman @honeyandsunfl0wers @hutchereverlark23 @ohchoices @dulceghernandez @blossomanarchy @claredal424 @caseyvalentineramsey @rookieoh @openheartthot @senseofduties @lilyvalentine @tsrookie @kalogh @aworldoffandoms @takemyopenheart t @casey-v @ramseyandrys @peaceinmidstofchaos

[achillestiel]

the parent trap only works if you’re identical | part four

Tag List: @littlerachelbee @imthedoctorlove @deancas-handprint @castiel-loves-dean @wanderermatthews @thelahatiel @priscillahc @mridzyp @multi-fandom-dark-lord @thefantasyfiend @harmonyhelms @imlivingliferightnow ​ @kara-merlin @still-clowning-in-this-house @never-forever-more @continuezmesfilserrants @2musiclover2 @castiels-bitch 

Ok Winchester, you can do this. Just be cool, calm and collected. Dean said to himself as he drove towards Foxhall Village, the area that Cas and Jack lived in. Jack had fallen fast asleep about an hour before and every now and then Dean would glance over, marvelling at how much Jack looked like Sammy when he slept. They would both zonk out instantly, mouth slightly open without a care in the world. As much as Dean missed Claire, because that pint sized tearaway was his whole damn world, he couldn’t help but wish that he’d been able to get to know Jack more. 

"Hey kid we're here." Dean said as they drove up the street Cas now lived on. "Nice place, what's your dad doing now here in DC?"

"Oh, he's the head of the council of economic advisers." Jack said. "Which sounds cool but it just means he talks about economic policy a lot. It’s cool when he goes to the White House, last time he stole a pen for me. Don’t tell anyone because I’m not sure if that illegal or not." 

Dean just sat there for a moment because of course Cas now had a great job within the government. When they'd first met Dean had made endless jokes about how Cas would be president one day. Cas had always rolled his eyes but smiled whenever Dean jokingly called him Mr President. 

"What's wrong?" Jack asked. 

"Nothing kid, come on. Let's get you back to your dad. No doubt Claire has driven him insane by now so getting her back will be easy." Dean said, getting out the car when all he wanted to do was clamber back into the impala and hightail it back to Kansas. Yes, he was being a coward but the idea of seeing Cas after all this time was doing things to his brain. 

"Doubt it, he's put up with Uncle Gabriel for all these years." Jack said. 

"Yeah, I remember your uncle alright. Ruined our damn couch." Dean muttered darkly. 

"That doesn't surprise me." Jack said as the pair walked up the driveway towards a large Tudor style house. Huh working in government definitely pays well Dean thought. Swallowing down his fear, Dean rang the doorbell. He prayed to whoever was up there that he didn't throw up on the tasteful doormat. The door opened and Dean braced himself to see Cas. Instead, he came face to face with-

"Uncle Gabriel!" Jack said happily. Dean suppressed a groan as he looked down at the short, cheerful-looking man. How was it possible that Gabriel looked almost exactly the same after twelve goddamn years?  

"Well if it isn't my favourite nephew." Gabriel said happily as he pulled Jack in for a hug. "And you brought Winchester! Never brought he'd leave Kansas. Is your brother still an Adonis of a man?"

"Was he ever?" Dean asked as he held out his hand for Gabriel to shake. Sure the guy might have wreaked Dean's brand new couch fourteen years prior but he was trying to be polite. 

"Oh he was and I let him know all the time. Shame he was so happy with Eileen." Gabriel said, looking wistfully as he shook Dean's hand. 

"Yeah well...not that it isn't nice to see you again Gabriel but I kind of need to grab my daughter." Dean said. Maybe he could do this whole thing without having to even see Cas. Part of him was relieved but that idea and the other part of him was just a swirl of emotions.  

"Of course, follow me to the kitchen." Gabriel said, stepping back inside the house and motioning for Dean to follow him. Dean obliged, looking around the pristine hallway for any sign of Cas. Jack was hot on their heels as they walked into the kitchen. Dean stopped and just glared at the sight in front of him. 

Claire, wearing one of Dean's flannel shirts that was definitely three sizes too big for her, was cheerfully stirring the contents of a large saucepan. Loudly humming along to a song on the radio, which after a second Dean placed as Queen. When Dean coughed loudly she looked up and grinned. 

"Dad! Come on in, we're making chilli for dinner." Claire said, looking far too happy for her own good. "Jack, grab some chips and gauc out the fridge." 

"We?" Dean asked while Jack sauntered past him towards the huge sub zero refrigerator. 

"Hello Dean." And damn if that didn't make Dean want to sprint out the house. He braced himself and looked over to where Cas was standing. All the breath in Dean’s body left him as his eyes fell onto Cas. He looked almost exactly the same apart from a few wrinkles around the startlingly blue eyes that Dean had always adored. His hair was still a complete mess and...son of a bitch, he was even wearing the blue sweater Dean had brought him for Christmas fifteen years prior. Seriously, was he doing this on purpose? 

“Um...hey Cas...long time.” Dean managed to stammer out. 

“Dork.” He heard Claire mutter under her breath. 

“Hey.” Dean said, rounding on Claire. “You got any idea how much trouble you’re in of this little stunt? This ain’t gonna be like the time you blew up the shed, you’re gonna be grounded until the day you graduate high school. Maybe even college.” Dean said. 

“You blew up a shed?” Cas, Gabriel and Jack all asked, staring at Claire mix of horror (Cas) and awe (Jack and Gabriel). 

“Ok, I didn’t blow up the shed. I started a small fire in the shed by accident.” Claire retorted. Dean and Cas both groaned as Jack walked over to give Claire a high five. 

“I really love this kid.” Gabriel announced. 

“Oh Jesus.” Dean muttered at the same as Cas. They both glanced at one another for a moment before Dean turned his attention back to Claire. “You. Car. Now.”

-

I should have stayed hiding upstairs. Cas thought as he stared, yes he was staring, at Dean. How was it possible that Dean looked even better after twelve years? Dean in his early twenties had been a sight to behold but Dean in his late thirties was a thing of beauty. His boyish good looks had turned into handsome roguishness.  

“Dad, I can’t leave yet. We’ve just laid the table.” Claire said to Dean.

"We thought you'd be hungry after driving all day so Claire and I made dinner." Cas said. In reality Gabriel had dragged him into the kitchen wherein he’d found Claire already making chilli. Cas wasn’t going to tell Dean that.

"That's a nice thought but-"

"Dad, I know all you've eaten today was gas store jerky.” Claire said, rolling her eyes. “Am I right?” she asked Jack who just nodded. “See? Now wash your hands, sit down and eat this damn chilli because I’m Aunt Eileen’s recipe and I know that’s your favourite.” Claire said, pointing a chilli covered wooden spoon at Dean. Cas simply could not fight the smile that spread across his face when he saw Dean’s terrified expression.

“Fine, just chill out. God you sound like Ellen when you do that.” Dean said, going over the sink to wash his hands before grabbing a seat and sitting down. Cas rolled his eyes, not even realising he was doing it until Dean looked over and glared. Dean was nearly forty and he was pouting like a small child.     

“Well while you all enjoy this little family reunion I’m going to grab some wine...maybe a enough for a vineyard.” Gabriel said as he sauntered out the room. 

“Does Gabriel live here?” Dean asked Jack.

“No, he was getting his condo renovated so he stayed here for a while. He’s back home now.”

“Longest eight weeks of my entire life.” Cas said quietly. “Jack, can you help Claire dish up?”

“Sure thing, let me run my bags upstairs and I’ll be right back.” Jack said.

“Oh I’ll help you!” Claire said as they both ran out the room. 

“Nice to know subtly isn’t their strong point.” Dean said with a nervous laugh. Cas just let out a long sigh and sat down across from Dean. 

“Yes, I’m starting to think they might be plotting something.” Cas said. “If Claire is anything like Jack in the determination department then we might be in trouble.”

“Oh believe me, Claire does not need any help when it comes to determination. She can wrap anyone round her finger. You know I still have a scar on my forehead from when she made me go rollerblading?”

“You went rollerblading?” Cas asked, utterly baffled by the idea of Dean Winchester going rollerblading. 

“Not voluntarily.” Dean said. Cas laughed and was shocked to see Dean’s face light up. “Um...I’m sorry to crash your evening like this. I didn’t think that I’d be here tonight.”

“No, when I went to the train station to pick up Jack I didn’t expect to see my twelve year old daughter.” Cas said. “You don’t have to apologise, I’ve enjoyed having Claire here.”

“Yeah, I really liked spending time with Jack, he’s a good kid.” Dean said. “Listen Cas-”

“Got the wine!” Gabriel said, strolling back into the kitchen holding two bottles of red wine. “Where’s Thing One and Thing Two.”

“Here!” Jack and Claire said in unison. Cas had a feeling the two had just been waiting outside the door for at least a minute. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw the smug look Jack gave Claire as they were dishing up dinner. Gabriel kept himself busy by pouring all the adults generous glasses of wine. Dean tried to protest because he still needed to drive back to Kansas but Gabriel laughed him off. 

“So Deano, what have you been up to all these years?” Gabriel asked after nearly ten minutes of awkward silence while they ate. 

“Oh...um...not much…” Dean said, staring down at his chilli. 

“You have!” Claire intoned. She turned to Gabriel and Cas with a proud look on her face. “When Uncle Bobby decided to retire five years ago Dad brought his share of the garage. It’s expanded so much over the past few years that last year Dad brought the empty lot next door. He’s restoring a 1957 Chevy Bel Air at the moment and it’s awesome.” Claire said with so much pride in her voice that it made Cas smile fondly. Dean had always had a love for classic cars and he was happy to see that he had made his passion a profession. 

“That’s amazing Dean, you should be proud.” Cas said.

“He is, he’s just awful at saying it.” Claire said. “We��ve got this old Firebird in the garage back home that Dad’s slowly been restoring. It’s really cool.”

“Are you planning on selling it once it’s restored?”

“Um...no...I mean, I was thinkin’ bout it but Claire loves the car so much that I’m planning on giving it to her as a graduation present.” Dean said, looking away from his plate of chilli to give Claire a quick, but loving, smile. “That’s if she gets good grades and promises to take care of it.” he added and Claire laughed. 

“Me and Jack could take a twin road trip when we both graduate.” Claire said excitedly. “See the grand canyon or hike Yosemite!”

“And Yellowstone! We could see the geothermal pools.” Jack said with as much excitement as Claire. 

“You know most teenagers would want to go to Tijuana.” Gabriel said. 

“Does Tijuana have cool rock formations like Antelope Canyon? If not I don’t care about it.” Jack said and once again he and Claire high fived. It was at that moment Cas realised this wasn’t going to be easy. Claire and Jack knew about each other now. They’d bonded while at camp and separating them again would not only break their hearts but Cas’ as well.

“Yeah well, we’ll see.” Dean said in a small voice, catching Cas’ eye. This isn’t going to end well he said with his eyes. Cas nodded in agreement. While Claire and Jack began to plan a road trip that was several years away, Cas coughed to get Dean’s attention.  

“I’m glad you’re doing something you love, with the garage I mean.”

“Oh...yeah, well you always knew it was a dream of mine to have my own garage.”

“I did and if I remember rightly I said that it would become a reality.” Cas said. 

“Yeah well, it’s not as big as working in the white house but…”

“Dean, I think we both know that your job is far more interesting than mine. I talk about budgets all day while you-”

“Are stuck in the guts of a car and come home covered in axle grease? Seriously, Claire hoses me down some days.” Dean said letting out a small laugh as, once again, he glanced fondly at Claire. 

“She’s amazing, I have to say. You’ve done an amazing job in raising her.” Cas said and he really meant it. True, most of the time he’d spent with a teenage Claire included Cas ‘spiralling’ but he’d enjoyed it. 

“You say that now because she’s on her best behaviour...sort of. You do remember she set fire to the shed right? You’ve got the real winner with Jack. That kid, he’s just awesome. Really smart, kind of reminds me of Sam.”

“Can we both agree that our kids are amazing and leave it at that?” Cas asked. Dean chuckled and Cas was flooded with memories at the sound. His stomach ached with longing to make Dean laugh like that again and again. This really wasn’t going to end well at all.

[iplaywithstring]

We're redoing our house. Nothing major - paint mostly, a couple light fixtures, and I'm going to try covering our counters. It's a lot of work, but it's not hard, and I enjoy it. Plus it's well past time for this to get taken care of. My husband and I have had a rough go of home ownership. We bought this place 14 years ago, a private sale from the person who was supposed to be our realtor but only showed us dumps. Then he said he had a few condos for sale and our daughter reminded him of his grand daughter and it would be great. And look, I understand I'm speaking from a place of privilege here - the fact that we have a mortgage is more blessing than curse and I know that. But it has been a lot. See, he only sold off 4 of the 12 units (and two were sold to his own kids) and then he just sort of...stopped. No proper condo association, no proper finances set up for the upkeep, wouldn't take calls or respond to messages or come to meetings. He lost his realtor license a couple years after selling us this place - apparently he was known for bad deals, but we had no idea. Every year for about 7 years someone from the city would knock on the door to ask about the abandoned properties. My husband and I did what we could for lawn care, the 4 owners pooled together for shared services (like snow clearing) and we managed to pay down 40k in debt to the city that we didn't know was building. Lawyers were involved, calls and emails to city and provincial offices. Not much could be done. Then a few years ago, the 8 empty units were sold in a tax sale to a new owner. We thought it would be better, and in a lot of ways it is, but it's still not good (and the new guy also isn't interested in following the law with regards to the condo, and he gets 8/12 votes, so there's not much we can do, and he won't do the things necessary to get paperwork so we can sell). All of this means that our relationship to the house is complicated. It's where our kids have grown up (we bought it when my daughter was a year old and we just found out I was pregnant), so there's a ton of good memories, but it's always felt not quite ours. We were too poor to invest much into it when we first bought it, and then as the problems piled up investing seemed like a bad idea (because who knows if the roof will leak or fall in). Last year it was almost condemned and I'm so thankful the other owners were willing and able to put the money in to fix the problem (electrical and water systems - we were out of the house for 6 weeks). We have done some updates - the bathroom got completely gutted because the paint wouldn't stop peeling from the walls, and half the grout between the awful orange tiles was missing. A few years ago we ripped up the old carpets on the second level and put down laminate flooring. We've done as much of the work ourselves as we can (and we're not very good at it). When we bought it, we were told it would be painted. What actually happened is they put a bunch of crack fill on the walls and then just primed it - lumpy and streaky and bad. One year I spent a week painting most of the walls - the hallways and downstairs and the kids room - but I didn't do any prep or fix work beforehand, I was just tired of the grungy off-white mess. Until today I had a yellow kitchen and hallways and a mint green dining/living room. I like the powder blue bathroom (with a ceiling to match), but the green in the main space is a problem, especially when I'm trying to take pictures of weaving. We spent some time in the spring trying to patch and sand, but at this point honestly it needs a skim coat and we are not up to that. So I bought flat paint and I'm calling it character. I've got plans for a big wall of family pictures and new lighting in the hallways. We've been living in a space that didn't really feel like ours, and now we're changing that and it feels so good. I'm hoping to get the downstairs done before it's too cold to paint with the windows open. Upstairs can wait a bit - our room feels like ours since we did the floors, so it's not as

urgent. The kids feel the same, and they can't quite decide on colours, so it's not a rush anyway. I haven't decided if I'm changing the colour in the bathroom. This is still just a stop-gap. I would like to move in the next few years (we never intended to live here more than 5 years, it's quite small for 4 of us, especially with two of us home full time now), but if that doesn't happen, I want to renovate. Take out a wall, put a pass-through in a different wall, completely tear out the kitchen. It's better to have dreams than to feel stuck.

[ladywaynebr]

Love at Chance - CH 02

Chapter 02: Jump and Pumps!

Word Count: 1.6 k

Warnings: None yet, just someone coming out from under the stone.

Summary: Dog, a gift and a super attentive mother.

Author’s Note: This is my first story in English, you will certainly notice. I hope you like it and forgive any mistakes.

Chapter 01 Link

NOTE: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

Thank you for reading! Whoever wants to be marked in the chapters leave a request in the comments. If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. THANK YOU!  

My day at the office was terrible, my share of arrogant clients is reaching its limit. I just don't throw it all away because the bills don't pay themselves and I like the little luxuries that my salary provides. One of them is the wine I'm drinking. Delicious, full-bodied, with a slight oak aroma. If this wine were a man, I would literally be on my knees for him. After all, the ideal would be a good wine and a hot night with some hot guy. But the resolution I made on my last birthday, prevents me from going to a bar and meeting someone. My new self doesn't spend time with imbeciles. I was tired of booty calls and all those fuck boys. I want someone to stay, someone I can trust.

I was dozing on the couch when I heard the barking from the apartment next door. I ended up discovering that the condominium allows animals, I went to make a complaint with the administration, I left there, embarrassed. The new neighbor and the dog, have been here for almost a month. They spent a few weeks away, and returned a few days ago. He still hasn't fixed my door.

I slept too much, it was certainly the wine. Late for work I left without having breakfast and finishing my makeup in the elevator mirror. They are renovating the parking lot of the building, we residents have to leave our cars near the leisure yard. Last night it rained, which makes the floor slippery and the enemy of high heels. I was walking slowly despite the rush. My cell phone started ringing like crazy in my purse, my boss must be furious with my delay. I answered without looking at who it was.

- Sorry, I'm on my way!

- What?

- Mom, I thought I was someone else. I'm late for work, I can't talk now.

- I just want to confirm our dinner today, I will cook for you. - She increased her tone of voice, my mother thinks that speaking out loud is more agile.

- Yes, but I don't have much in the fridge. - I'm basically living on frozen food.

- Don't worry, I'll stop by the grocery store. - Said the loud voice.

- Okay, see you later!

Hanging up, I stopped for a few moments to put my phone in my  purse.

- Dodger, no! - The male voice roared.

The pile of hair leapt over me again, with its paws against my belly.

- Jesus! - I screamed.

The dog's paws are wet and dirty with sand from the yard. That combination created an abstract art on my silk blouse. I felt my face tremble with rage, the animal stopped in front of me with his tongue hanging out and the tail swaying.

- Please, forgive me! - His owner approached, wearing a blue sweater and Patriots cap. - I don't know what happened to him, Dodger is not to go around jumping on people.

- I find it hard to believe. This is the second time he attacks me, use a collar or something. - The damage to my shirt was great.

-He's wearing it, but when he saw you, he let go of my hands and ran towards you. - The man is also confused. - I don't understand, he's not like that.

- Your dog must hate me. - I turned around, I need to change.

I heard his footsteps behind me. In an attempt to hurry and stay away from them, I stepped up.  

- Be careful, the floor is slippery and your heels are not the most suitable shoes. - He warned me gently.

It just made me more nervous.

- If you were able to control your dog, I wouldn't need to be running. I'm late for work. - I said annoyed.

- It was an accident, I already apologized. - He's still after me. - What is your size, I'll buy you another shirt.

We arrived at the entrance to the building, stopping and I looked at him.

- The same way you fix my door? - His cheeks were flushed. I confess I didn't expect that reaction, I found it a little charming.

- I forgot, I've been traveling for work and with so many things happening. I'm sorry again, I'll take care of everything. - His tone embarrassed.

He disarmed me, I don't like to embarrass people.

- Don't worry, just make sure Dodger stops jumping on me. - Hearing his name, the dog wagged its tail.

- I think he likes you. - He said with a smile.

I just nodded, shooting for the elevator. Impossible for that dog to like me, I barely know him.

When I got home I came across a new door installed and my mom in the kitchen.

- Good night mom.

- Hi darling. - She smiled while chopping carrots.

- Who installed the door?

- Some men, I was entering when they arrived. - She said. - What caused that hole?

- I'm not sure. - I lied, putting my bag on the counter. - The smell is great.

- It is your favorite, go take your bath soon it will be served.

- Right!

- I was forgetting, the mysterious gift is in your bed. - She smiled excitedly.

- What a gift?

- A delivery boy brought a beautiful Prada box. With a card!

Jesus, he kept his promise. I shot into the room.

After the shower, I picked up the box and the card, which I opened first. The message was handwritten.

“I hope I got the size right. This is an apology from Dodger and me.

C.E "

A kind and polite gesture on his part. I opened the box and got a surprise. He didn't buy me another blouse, which wasn't even a designer, but a beautiful flowered dress with a blue background. He got the size right, I'm not tall and I have my curves and volumes. What drove that man to do that, to buy me such an expensive apology gift.

- What did you win? - My mother curious as soon as I sat at the table.

- Something I will return. - I answered. - I can't accept it's inappropriate.

- Don't tell me it's your boss, that asshole is trying to get into your pants again. - She was annoyed.

- No mother. Daniel never approached me again after I threatened to tell his wife. - I regret telling her. My mother can't forget - The gift is from someone else, but because we don't know each other very well, I can't accept it.

- It does well, you are a Christian girl and should not be accepting gifts around. - She took my hand to pray.

She will spend the night here I don't like that she travels by car at night. While Mom chose a movie, I washed the dishes and made popcorn. I hope she doesn't choose anything biblical.

- Did you put butter?

I settled on the couch next to her.

- No, your cholesterol needs to be under control. - She made a face. - What is the movie?

- One with Captain American, he will rescue some people in danger. - She said picking up some popcorn.

A few minutes of the film passed and I was shocked.

- Jesus! It's him! - I screamed.

- He who?

- My neighbor. - I went back to the scene, pausing on his face. - He has long hair, but it's him.

- Chris Evans is your neighbor, how did you let that pass “y / n”?

So that's why he signed the card with the initials.

- I do not follow the world of Hollywood and celebrities. - He certainly realized that I didn't recognize him. - I thought I recognized him from somewhere, but I didn't associate with any of that. After all, what does a star living in this condo?

- I don't know about that, but it's proof that you need to stop working so hard. You are becoming isolated from the world, even the church ladies are able to recognize this man.

- What a small world. - I mumbled looking at the screen.

- Is he handsome like on TV? - She asked curiously. - For a white boy, of course.

If I say I didn't realize it is a lie.

- Yes, actually even more beautiful. - She laughed.

We went back to watching the movie, which took on another meaning for me.