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bloodyknucklesforme · 9 months ago

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Red Summer | Ghoap x F!Reader | Slasher!AU

After breaking up with your long term boyfriend you take a job working as a camp counselor in Northern Vermont. Seven weeks of swimming, volleyball, archery and hiking. There's even a hot lifeguard. It seems perfect until you find something evil is lurking in the woods

Tags: Slasher AU, Ghoap x Reader, intro chapter, nondescript reader, dark fic

Chapter 1: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

5.5k words

It smelled like Summer. Ozonic and earthy, carried into your car by the breeze as you drove North through winding roads. Montpelier was two hours behind you now.

Despite the eighty degree heat, Vermont was lush and green. Only a couple more miles of shaded forest roads before you reached camp. At least you hoped so. Your maps app had been slow to load the last twenty miles.

The place was North, nestled between the border of Canada and the New Hampshire state line. It was gorgeous though. Anytime you thought about moving out of New England to somewhere cheaper the next season changed your mind. The trees just didn’t look as pretty in fall or the snow as splendid in winter. You just wished it was cheaper.

Suppose that’s why you took this job, as much as it didn’t appeal to you. Camp counselor for seven long weeks, the pay was shit but your food and board came free. After a bad breakup you didn’t have time to find a new lease so your life was packed up into a rented storage box with anything valuable shoved into the back of your car.

A friend of a friend recommended it. She’d been working here for years, attended for even more. She was an old money New Englander. Boarding school outside of Boston and all that. She was nice though. Got you the job over any qualified candidates. It wasn’t nepotism but whatever it was called you wouldn’t complain.

Your car dinged. Low gas. Shit.

Scrolling quickly through the map you saw a gas station up ahead. You’d just make it… hopefully.

You let out a sigh of relief as you pulled into the station. It was older with dusty windows and sun-faded posters for cigarettes.

A piece of paper was taped to the pump.

“Reader broken. Pay inside” scribbled in sharpie.

You sighed and headed inside.

It was dusty inside too. A couple aisles of brightly packaged food and walls lined with fridges filled with beer and soda. The man behind the counter glanced up from his book when you walked in.

He was handsome. Black with dark, short cut curly hair and big brown eyes. Much too handsome to be working in the middle of nowhere. He’d look more fitting in the corner of a bar, buying you a drink. He smiled up at you and your heart might have skipped a beat.

“Pump three? How much?” He was English… strange.

“Just…uh… ten bucks.” You stumbled out.

“It’s the accent,” he chuckled. “It throws everybody off the first time.”

“It’s a strange place for an Englishman to be, I guess.” You swayed awkwardly.

“I go to Middlebury. Easier to get a summer job than fly home.” He shrugged.

“Understandable.” You weren’t an expert on Vermont geography but you swore the college was on the other side of the state.

“Ten on three.” He said, nodding his head towards the window.

“Oh yeah. Thank you.”

“You still got to pay, love.”

“Oh fuck, yeah. Sorry… uh… Kyle.” You read his name tag before digging through your tote bag, finding the last bit of your cash.

“No worries. What brings a girl like you out here.”

“I’m working at the camp.”

“Weldon lake, right?”

“Yeah. First time… I’m going the right way, right?”

“If you continue up the road. There will be a sign when you need to turn.” He handed you your receipt.

“Thank you.”

“Hey!” You were half way out the door when he called. “Stay alive out there. Heard the campers can be down right evil.”

“I’ll try!”

The rest of the journey was smooth, there was a sign just like Kyle said. Another one after that taking you down a long gravel drive and into a dirt parking lot. A couple other cars were there already.

You made sure everything important was locked up in the trunk before grabbing your duffel bag and tote. You hoped you brought enough sunscreen.

The sun was warm on your back as you made your way up to the main building. Two other girls were hanging around on the porch. They each wore matching white baseball shirts with red sleeves and trim, each labeled with STAFF on the back.

“Hey, you’re Sophia’s friend, right? I’m Janie.” She jumped down from the porch fence. “I love your braids by the way.”

You’d done your hair before leaving, figuring it’d be easier to keep clean braided than fight for limited shower time.

“I’m Natalie,” The other girl greeted. You introduced yourself, thanking Janie for the compliment.”

“I think your cabin is next to mine. I can take you over once you check in.” Janie said.

Check in was easy enough. Sign a couple more papers, show off your ID to prove you were you and get your cabin assignment, key and two staff shirts. Tomorrow was orientation before the campers arrived Monday morning. Tonight was for getting to know everyone.

“So, where’s this cabin?” you asked, walking outside.

The girls grinned and led you down the path. Everything seemed to branch off from here. They pointed out where the dining hall was just past the main office next to the nurse’s station.

“Don’t expect much. They’re still recovering from when Covid almost killed this place.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. They had to raise fees and a bunch of parents freaked out. Guess an extra hundred dollars really threw all the millionaires off.” Natalie laughed.

Next was the pool, fully fenced in and surrounded by two tennis courts and two basketball courts on either side.

“Hey lasses!” A man called from the pool, leaning over the chain link fence. Natalie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Who’s the new girl?”

He had a thick Scottish accent. Lots of transplants for the area, you guessed. He was also handsome. Muscular with a dark mohawk and light eyes. He was shirtless with very short and tight red shorts on and a silver whistle around his neck. He was dripping water over the ground.

“You say that like you aren’t also the new guy, Johnny!” Natalie called, clearly annoyed already.

“Nat hates him.” Janie giggled.

“It’s been three hours and he’s already tried to fuck half the counselors. He’s a dog.”

“One I’d put on a leash.” Janie laughed.

Johnny walked over, still dripping wet. His crocs squeaked with every step.

“Johnny,” he grinned, holding out his hand to you. You introduced yourself as he shook your hand excitedly. He had a tattoo on his side, up by his ribs. You couldn’t see all of it but it looked like a heart with someone’s initials in it. S and something else, you couldn’t tell for sure. “Beautiful name for a beautiful gal.”

Your cheeks felt hot as his blue eyes traveled over your body.

“It’s going to be a fun seven weeks with all you bonnie lasses around.” He grinned. Nat looped her arm around yours.

“Down dog. We still have half the camp to show off.”

“You know where to find me. Pool looked like the lake when I got here.” He raised his hands up as he walked backwards towards the pool again.

“Come on, before we lose Janie.”

“He’s hot!” She defended.

“You just like him because he got your name right on the first try.”

“He’s intelligent too!”

The cabins were next. Ten white painted buildings split in half with about eight beds on each side and a shared bathroom in the back. They formed a circle around a fire pit with log benches.

You had cabin room 14. Janie was the building next door in 15 and Nat with 16 sharing with her. They took turns explaining everything.

“Your bed is the only non bunk and the chest underneath locks so anything you don’t want the campers to find should go there.”

“Basically all your shit. I had a copy of Crime and Punishment stolen last year. Fucking Crime and Punishment like any of these kids could read Dostoevsky.”

“Showers are in the back. Hot water is sparse so if you want some, move quick and early.”

“Breakfast is at 8. Coffee tastes like shit unless you pour half a pound of sugar in it.”

“You can vape just outside but if you smoke you gotta ask your neighbor counselor to watch your kids. At least thirty feet away or they’ll snitch too.”

“Weed is only for days off because they'll either snitch or demand you share. That goes for kids and counselors.”

“Days off are randomly assigned but you should get one every other week.”

“I don’t recommend sleeping with other counselors but if you must, go to your car.” Natalie said.

“We’ll leave you to get settled. Dinner is in an hour. You can meet everyone else then.”

“Thank you guys for everything.” You felt overwhelmed just a bit.

They left, still arguing about Johnny. He was cute but the break up wounds were still fresh. You didn’t want to sneak around either. You weren’t a teenager anymore.

You haphazardly dumped the contents of your duffle into the lock chest before shoving it back under the bed. You had seven weeks to organize it.

The bed was okay. A plastic covered mattress with an old sleeping bag. You should have brought your own pillow. Maybe a Target run on your next day off whenever that was.

The ache in your muscles from driving all day hit hard the moment you sat down.

There was a knock on the door.

“Hey sleepyhead!” Sophia came in. You rubbed your face as you woke up. Out the window you could see the sky looked darker, a blue summer evening. “I’m glad you ended up coming.”

“Yeah. Thanks for getting me the job.” You stretched, your shoulders cracking. “It’s nice to get away.”

“I’m sorry about you and Ale.” There it was. She was nice but always craved gossip.

“It’s okay. Just wanted different things.”

You shrugged. It wasn’t a bad breakup, no arguing, just a slow and painful demise. He’d even offered to let you stay with him when the lease ended and he found out you didn’t have a place to go. You chose this instead.

“Well, let’s get you something to eat. The food is incredibly mediocre but I heard a rumor that the lifeguard has beer and weed for the fire pit.”

She was not wrong about dinner. Hot dogs with a slice of Kraft cheese melted on top with a bag of chips as a side.

You sat with Nat, Sophia and Janie.

“There are my lovely ladies!” Johnny sat down, forcing his way between Cel and Sophia. Nat looked like she wanted to kill him. “Coming out to the lake tonight? Hope you all brought swim suits or birthday suits.”

“Jesus Christ.” Nat groaned.

“I think we’re gonna have an easy night. Some of us had long drives.” Sophia motioned to herself and you. “Just some girl time.”

Johnny pouted.

“Fair enough but I do expect all of you at the bonfire tomorrow.” He pointed at all of them, even Nat. “Especially you new girl.”

He got up and jogged off to another table of girls.

“Am I allowed to call him a slut?”

“What happened to dog?” Janie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Dogs can be trained.”

You all laughed. You’d been worried that you wouldn’t fit in. All the other girls knew each other for years at this point. Janie and Sophia had been coming here since they were kids. Nat met Janie in high school and got a job as a junior counselor with her the first chance they got.

It wasn’t a super attractive job and the pay was shit but it looked good on resumes and college applications apparently. Showed responsibility. Most of your experiences with camp were from horror films.

The sun was still out as the four of you walked back. Sophia was your cabin neighbor, taking care of room 13. It’s where you all gathered.

Sophia and you sat on her bed while she did your nails.

“Red looks nice on you.” It was a bright cherry red. She’d picked it out, saying they should all match.

The evening was spent talking and laughing. You asking questions about camp life and getting advice from the other girls.

You had friends back home but you were glad you fit in so fast. Any anxiety and fear for the Summer slipped away as the sun set.

“I’m beat.” Nat yawned. It was almost midnight now. Janie agreed and the two wandered off back to their cabin.

“I’ll head back too. Thank you for being so welcoming, Soph.”

“Absolutely! It’s nice to get fresh meat every once and a while. It can be tough with the kids so some people get jaded. I hope you have fun this Summer and if you don’t you can blame me.” She laughed.

The air was cool on the little porch out front. Most of the other cabins had their lights off by now and the center was lit up with fireflies, neon yellow dots.

There was an orange dot out towards the back of one of the cabins across the way. A cigarette. The man smoking it seemed larger than any counselor you’d seen but it was dark and he was half hidden behind the building. It was Johnny’s cabin, you think. He was big.

He waved and you waved back. He dropped the cigarette and stamped it out. The little corner fell dark and you went into your side.

You didn’t realize how quiet the world could be as you curled up in your sleeping bag. No hum of electronics or cars. No people yelling above or below you. Just the stillness of the stars.

It was an early morning. Johnny was running around the circle of cabins playing music to wake everyone up. He was shirtless again and his shorts seemed shorter than the day before. You wouldn’t complain.

“So why did you choose this wonderful vista as a summer job?” Johnny asked, jogging up next to you as you made your way to the dining hall.

“Needed a break. Get out in nature for a bit. I grew up in the suburbs and just broke up with my boyfriend so I guess I wanted to breathe for a bit. You?”

“Running from my previous life of crime.” He smiled. “Nah, just also trying to get away. Was military back home, knee injury did me in. Didn’t know what else to do. Hiked part of the Appliachian trail. You know, it's the same mountain range as the Highlands. Felt like I had to see them. Haven’t really felt like going back home yet.”

“You hiked alone?” You raised an eyebrow. You knew that it was one of the longest and hardest trails in the country.

“Had a mate with me but I’m on my lonesome now.” He opened the door for you. Sure, he was boisterous but he seemed harmless one on one. Maybe a little dogish but he wasn’t going to hump your leg unprompted.

“Shirts are needed in the dining hall, Mactavish!” Sophia called. He held up his hands in surrender before fishing out a cropped muscle tee that had been shoved into his pocket. It was a nice change of pace to be around a man that wanted to show off his own skin rather than try to get girls to show theirs.

You told yourself before you got here that you wouldn’t look for that kind of distraction. It wasn’t worth it, especially not this early. You could look though. No harm in that.

Bacon, Eggs and self-serve cereal was today’s breakfast. You joined back up with the girls from last night. Orientation was supposed to take up most of the day so they encouraged you to grab a couple pieces of fruit and a protein bar.

“Only fill up your water bottle in here. There are fountains elsewhere but I think they taste weird.” Said Janie.

You were put in a group with Johnny, Sophia, and another guy named Warren. He and Sophia were long term counselors so they gladly took on the role of being you and Johnny’s tour guide. Johnny had been hired because of his lifeguard training so he already knew the layout of the lake and pool. You were scolded for not having proper shoes for hiking.

“What’s your size? I might have an old pair in my car.” Sophia offered. “If not I think there’s an L.L.Bean like two hours away. We can go on our next day off.”

You weren’t sure if you could afford brand new boots so silently hoped that Sophia did have that old pair and they fit.

“Don’t want ya getting blisters all summer.” Johnny said. He was doing the hike in crocs but apparently did have boots back at his cabin.

You didn’t do the full trail but Warren pointed out the different routes and how difficult each one was and which ones kids could do by themselves and which ones they couldn’t. The fields were next. A soccer field and baseball field were across the way from the cabins. It was a loose definition of each. One was a huge patch of grass and the other a diamond of dirt. Both looked a little off size wise. There was the sports supply shed that had all the equipment in it. Only a couple counselors had keys to it.

“People kept using it inappropriately.” Sophia smiled.

There was the art building, the rec hall, a path leading towards the archery field and riflery field.

“Riflery?”

“Yeah. We used to teach kids how to shoot. Mostly clay pigeons but it was one of the programs cut after Covid,” Warren explained.

“Shame I missed it. Could have taught the kids trick shots.” Johnny joked, pretending to aim a rifle backwards over his shoulder.

The horse stable was also closed. Too expensive to have horses here for even half the season.

The Lake was the last part of the tour. It was on the other side of the road so to get there was an underpass to get there. It was large enough for five adults to walk side by side comfortably but the yellow light from the lamps gave it a sickly vibe.

It ended a little ways before the beach. There were several rows of Kayaks and another shed filled with life preservers and paddles.

“Wow Johnny! You cleaned it up well.” Warren clapped him on the back. For a moment Johnny looked irritated that he’d been touched but he shoved that emotion out of the way to make room for his usual excited self.

“Yeah. Cleaned up the best I could.”

“It looks great, Johnny.” You were impressed. He’d even sprayed the kayaks down, bright clean plastic in a rainbow of colors.

“Yer making me blush.” He laid a hand over his heart.

The lake was gorgeous. Cream colored sand feeding into sapphire waters. You could just see the beach on the other side, a small empty dock with a path leading into the woods. The camp side had a floating platform about thirty feet into the water.

“Campers have to swim there and back to pass the swimming competency test.” Sophia explained. “If you can’t swim on your own you’re stuck in the buoyed area.”

There was a ten by ten foot area cordoned off by buoys, keeping to the shallow end of the lake. Made enough sense. No one wanted to fish a dead kid out of the water.

“Let’s head back. We don’t want to miss lunch.” Warren clapped his hands together.

The four of you made the trek back to the dining hall. You did feel like blisters were starting to form on the back of your ankles. You’d have to put band-aids on them later.

The rest of the afternoon was spent going over itinerary for the following week. Campers would arrive tomorrow between ten and six. It was a day mostly planned out for settling them in with an inaugural bonfire that night. After that it was seven weeks of regular old American camp adventures.

You went back to your cabin the moment you had free time. Your ankles hadn’t started to bleed but they were bright red and throbbing. You applied the bandaids and grabbed another pair of socks to wear the rest of the way.

There was about an hour and half before dinner and final orientation from the camp managers, who, you had been told, often made themselves scarce throughout the summer to avoid having to do their jobs. You settled on top of your sleeping bag. A nice breeze came in through the screen door. Janie had told you that it was the best way to keep the building cool.

You thought about Ale. His smile and deep laugh. How he’d wake you up in the morning with kisses to the back of your neck. How he loved your hair and ass. How he’d whisper in Spanish to you. You still had the English/Spanish dictionary he gave you shoved in a box back in the city. You missed him. Your cowboy. He would have been so disappointed to hear the stables were closed. Maybe you’d call him after all this. Ask to work something out.

You drifted off daydreaming about the scent of his cologne.

“Bonnie! You’re gonna miss dinner!” Johnny was knocking on the screen door. Maybe Nat was right in being annoyed by him all the time.

“I’ll just miss it.” you sighed, rolling over on the bed.

“You never know which meal is your last. Best not to skip any! C’mon or I’ll drag ya myself.”

You would have thrown a pillow if you had one. How did he always have so much energy?

He jogged literal circles around you on the way to the dining hall.

“How are your feet?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“You were limping on the way back to the cabins earlier.”

“Oh…yeah just blisters.”

He tutted at you.

“Got to get you some good shoes soon.”

Dinner was the same hot dogs as the previous night with a bonus of a bowl of lettuce, cherry tomatoes and a slice of cucumber.

There was an excited energy in the room. Most people who’d snuck in alcohol or drugs said tonight was the best night to use it all. An unspoken competition of who could drink the most and still function when the first campers started to arrive. It could be fun, you mused. You were never a big partier in college and what was this if not a perfect chance to make up for that.

The boys built up a nice fire, each poking and prodding their own side with their favorite stick. You sat on one of the log benches next to Sophia and Janie. Johnny was across the fire, his arm around the waste of another girl counselor. Ceilidh you think it was. Pronounced like Kay-lee, she’d said. Pretty name, Gaelic. Made sense for him to go after a piece of home.

“Glad he’s finally left us alone.” Nat chuckled.

“I think they’re cute.” Sophia said. You pushed down the twinge of jealousy you felt seeing her giggle at his joke.

Warren came around with a cooler filled with a hodgepodge of beer. He was his fraternity’s president and one of his responsibilities was to get rid of any extra at the end of the term to avoid trouble. Dry campus issues.

You grabbed a Modelo. Ale’s old go to and one you’d gotten used to drinking. It left a familiar warm feeling in your stomach.

You drank, you danced, you ate s’mores, you laughed with your new friends. The stars seemed so bright and clear out here. Janie had you all lay out on your backs in the grass nearby as she pointed out each constellation.

“That’s the big dipper and above it is the little dipper but Draco is the constellation between them. If you guys tell me your star signs I can point it out for you.”

There was laughter nearby and you glanced up to see Johnny and Ceilidh sneaking in the dark towards her cabin.

You had another beer. And another. Maybe one more after that.

Someone offered you a hit off a joint so you did that too.

The four of you were laughing and stumbling back to Sophia’s cabin. You had no idea how late it was. The fire was dying out. Warren said he would make sure everyone got back inside all right. The designated driver of drunken counselors. He was a good guy.

You found yourself laying on your side on one of the empty beds. Sophia and Janie were on her bed, half asleep against each other. Nat and you were talking about your childhoods.

“I broke a bone three years in a row, each time in May. I missed field day every time. My mom once pulled me around in a wagon so I wouldn’t feel left out,” She laughed.

“How did you break so many bones?”

“Catholic school where the playground was just a parking lot. I was a wild kid. I broke my arm tripping and falling against the priest’s car. I dented it too. I thought I was going to hell.”

There was a shrill noise. Loud and stomach dropping. A scream cut off. You and the other girls all jumped to attention. It was silent except for the crackling of the fire outside.

“Fisher cat.” Janie said, trying to convince herself.

“Or a fox.” Sophia added.

“Did you guys hear that?” Warren said, coming in.

The four of you nodded.

“It sounded close. I’m gonna check it out.”

“By yourself?”

“One of the other guys is gonna come with me. It’s probably just an animal. If you see Johnny tell him to go check on everyone. I want a headcount before we all go to sleep.”

You all watched from the window as Warren met another guy holding a flashlight and a baseball bat. Sophia turned on the porch light. They disappeared between the cabin’s across the way.

“Johnny and Celilidh went off together. Should we try to find them?” Sophia offered.

“Maybe we should just stay here. Safety in numbers.” Janie answered.

“Safety from what? It was just an animal.” Nat insisted.

“Didn’t sound like an animal.” You thought. No one else would say it but you were all thinking it. A slide show of clips from horror films played through your mind.

Four sets of eyes darted around, looking out windows and the front door, waiting for some masked killer to seep through the walls.

Bang!

You all screamed as Johnny flew through the door, clutching his stomach.

“We have to go now!” He grunted. Blood was pouring between his fingers.

“Oh my god. What happened? Where’s Ceilidh?”

“Dead… fuck.. She’s fucking dead. Fucker came in through the window in the bathroom. I tried to fight him off. I’m sorry.” He gulped. “We have to go now!”

“You’re bleeding. Please let me look.” Janie reached out and he pushed her hand away.

“Don’t have time. We have to go. Get my car keys. I can fit us all.”

“What about everyone else?” You asked. There was so much blood, it was dripping on the floor now.

“I don’t know… when..when’s the last time you saw anyone?”

There was another scream from outside. Silence took you over again.

“Please… we can get out and get help but we have to go now.” Johnny pleaded. His bright blue eyes were watery and his tan skin was stained red down his legs.

“I’m going.” Sophia said, grabbing her backpack. “Fuck this. I’m not fucking dying like it’s a movie. We’re all going. Johnny, do you need help?”

“No, I can manage. I need to get my keys though.”

“I have mine. We can just take my car. It’s an SUV.” Sophia urged, crouching down to look out of the door.

“No…no…I…I uh…I have a gun in my car.”

“You brought a fucking gun to camp?” Nat’s jaw dropped.

“Old shotgun. It works. I’m trained for this. Get to the car and I… I can kill him.”

“You’re bleeding out, Johnny.” Janie cried, reaching for him again and once again being pushed away.

“Come with me.” Johnny looked at you.

“I…I…I don’t know.” You were shaking. It didn’t seem real. Too cliche. A real life spree killer running around the woods of a Summer camp. Sophia was right, you didn’t want to die like it was some movie.

“He knows I’m weak. He’ll go after me first. We’ll get my keys and if he shows up… you take them and run.”

“You..can’t sacrifice yourself.” Your voice warbled.

“It was my job to do that. If I can’t die saving my country, I’d like to die saving a group of pretty girls.”

Johnny was pleading. He seemed to know he couldn’t do it on his own. You thought about Ale saying you needed to stand up for yourself more. You never did. You didn’t stand up to bullies in high school, rogue professors in college or shitty demeaning bosses. You didn’t even stand up for yourself when Ale said he wanted a break.

Nat was saying how you should all just run to Sophia’s car. She had her keys. Sophia was agreeing. Janie was crying silently.

“I’ll go.” You forced the words out like vomit. It was that or actual vomit.

“Okay.” He almost smiled. “Sophia, turn off the lights. We’ll give you a signal when it's safe to come out. Then we all run to the parking lot.”

“What’s the signal?” Janie sobbed.

“I’ll whistle.”

You were shaking so much you worried you’d fall right down the front steps of the cabin. Johnny was in front of you, shoulders hunched up, his eyes darting everywhere. Sophia turned off the lights, leaving the two of you in near darkness. The fire was nothing more than orange smoldering logs.

“You seem like you’ve done this before.” You said quietly, finding yourself holding the bottom hem of his shirt.

“Like I said. It was my job.”

You walked on your tiptoes, trying not to make any noise. Your heart cried for the others. Even if you didn’t know them. You didn’t hear or see anyone. Maybe they all got out? They escaped already…or the killer was chasing them deeper into the woods.

You didn’t want to die. In the movies it always seemed so prolonged. The stabbings and bleeding out. Johnny had been hurt and he was still going on, trying to save you and everyone else.

“Stay here. I’ll go check to make sure it's clear.” He said. You’d made it to his cabin, whole body still shaking just on his porch now. Your heart leapt into your throat as the door creaked open.

“Be careful, please.”

He winked at you before heading in. You picked at the skin around your nails, a nasty old habit that you tried so hard to kick. You could forgive yourself for this relapse. It seemed an appropriate time to scratch out anxiety.

The step behind you creaked. Any light from the fire was blocked out. A arm wrapped around your neck and pulled you flush with a wall of muscle. You screamed for Johnny as a knife cut into your stomach.

It hurt worse than you thought it would. He was stabbing you over and over. All those movies and none prepared you for the sound that came from being stabbed yourself. The rush of blood in your head. You kicked and scratched the best you could, catching the gap of skin between his gloves and sleeves. Flesh caught under your nails and tore. The knife cut sideways across your stomach. Something wet and heavy hit the floor by your feet.

“Fucking cunt.” The man growled. You could have thrown up if it didn’t feel like your stomach had been torn open.

You hit the porch face first, no strength left to even try to hold yourself up. Blood pooled in your mouth. He stepped around you and in the corner of your eye you could make him out.

Large, well over six feet and bulky with large shoulders. A half skull mask covered the top part of his face. His head was buzzed. He had a hunting knife in his hand and it dripped your blood onto the wood and onto your face.

“Johnny!” Your killer called. You’d doomed him too. He could have gotten away. Johnny would die and it would be your fault. They all would now and it was your fault.

You closed your eyes as the throbbing subsided. You didn’t want to listen. He was so nice. He didn’t deserve it.

You didn’t deserve this.

You closed your eyes and let yourself slip away.

You heard music. Loud obnoxious music and singing from an off key baritone scot.

You opened your eyes and you were in your sleeping bag in your cabin. It was Sunday morning again.

Shout out to @ceilidho for being an inspiration to me to write darker fics and letting me use her name for a counselor.

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octuscle · 1 year ago

Text

Now open under new management (remake)

Edward Parker III rolled down the car window a crack. Peter, his driver, had switched off the air conditioning to save fuel. The fuel gauge was practically at 0.00. Here, in the middle of nowhere, they had no mobile network. The last Google message said that a petrol station would appear at some point. And Peter claimed that it should open in five minutes. Open from 10:40 am. Strange opening times. Edward's stomach grumbled. Something had gone wrong at breakfast. The car desperately needed a gas pump. And he needed a toilet just as badly. Then, like an oasis in the desert, a building appeared in the middle of endless cornfields and pastures full of stupidly staring cattle. It was 10:39:50 a.m. when Peter steered the car into the dusty gas station with the last drop of gas. At 10:40 sharp, Edward yanked open the car door and jumped out. And the moment his spotless Oxfords touched the ground, the neon sign flashed. Open!

Edward ran towards the little store where the neon sign was shining. He was far too intent on not wetting his pants to notice the leather soles of his shoes turning into a firm rubber tread. When he pushed the door handle down, he got something like an electric shock. He didn't care. The store was empty. His palm became calloused. His fingernails were black. There was a door at the back labeled "Private". Hopefully there was a toilet there. Thank God the door was open. And thank God there was a toilet. In the middle of a room full of tools, car tires and packages. It stank miserably. But Edward didn't care at all. He had already undone his belt while running, unzipped his trousers, pulled them down and dropped onto the dirty toilet seat at the last moment. And he had to shit like never before in his life. The stench was overwhelming. But the relief was immense. Edward finally relaxed again. But only for a second. Then his eyes fell on the dirty biker boots. They contained a pair of completely filthy jeans, pulled down as far as they would go. And what was even more irritating: his right hand was the hand of a construction worker, the sleeve of his shirt had disappeared. And the fabric of the right sleeve of his jacket was also coming undone. And on his chest and back, the color changed from a navy blue to a washed-out red. What the hell was going on here?

Even greater than the panic was the disgust at the stench. His left hand, still freshly manicured, reached for the toilet flush. And again he was hit by an electric shock. Panicked, he watched as his fingernails became dirty and his hand calloused. Edward's gaze fell between his legs. That wasn't his circumcised, shaved penis. That was a cheesy, hairy cock. Much bigger than it normally was. Edward had to get out of here! He hastily wiped his ass. A tight, hairy ass, sitting there on a familiar toilet seat. A man needs a good place to shit. Hehehe, this was a good place to shit. Stumbling, Edward stood up, his head spinning. He looked in the mirror. That was still his head. But the rest of him? His stiff white collar and tie knot vanished into thin air, revealing a well-toned chest. The last remnants of the finest navy blue wool on his upper left arm disappeared, and the transformation of his jacket into a washed-out and worn-out tank top was complete. I look like a fucking hillbilly, were his last thoughts before he grew a scruffy three-day fuzzy beard. His $100 haircut became a home-cut mullet. Damn, the greasy hair hadn't been washed in a while.

Loud honking from outside. "Damn, I've taken a shit! Can't you wait?" Edward shouted. He wiped his hands on the dirty cloth stuck in his pants. Washing hands was for sissies in the city. He entered the yard of his gas station.

Hehehe, he knew the dirty truck that was parked there at the gas pump. "Pete's services of all kinds" was written on the door. And Pete Jr. was hanging in the cab with a visible bulge. "Eddy, don't you always promise the best service at your gas station?" said Pete with a grin. Ed spat out the chewing tobacco and licked his lips. "Go ahead, gas station attendant. The belt buckle won't undo itself!"

Full service and guaranteed customer satisfaction. That's what Ed's gas station was famous for.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #male transformation #muscle transformation #redneck tf #age reduction #white to blue collar tf #ai image #mullet

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deanswhiskey · 1 year ago

Text

𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐞 - 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

summary; while stuck at home, you find some christmas decorations in a storage closet

wc; 1935

warnings; kissing, tooth-rotting christmas themed fluff, that’s really it

authors note; merry christmas and happy holidays!!

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

christmas had always been your favorite holiday growing up. you hadn’t spent much time celebrating since you started hunting. your parents were hunters but they sent you to your uncle bobby’s whenever they’d hunt. you didn’t know what was happening, just excited to see your uncle.

when you started hunting, looking for whoever, or whatever, killed your parents, you didn’t get to celebrate much anymore. the days mushed together half the time.

after you met sam and dean, and eventually joined them, you tried to bring as much of the holidays as you could, seeing as they didn’t get to much.

you find little plastic decorations at the shitty gas stations you’d stop at in different cities and states. hanging christmas scented air fresheners from the mirror in deans car, even when he’d get annoyed, he couldn't say anything because he knew how much you loved it. you’d always buy funny little headbands for sam and dean to wear too, just so you could snap pictures of them on your camera.

it was midday in december when the boys were leaning up against baby while you were inside the gas station. “geez, what’s takin’ her so friggin long?” dean asked while checking his watch. he’d finished pumping gasoline what felt like a half hour ago.

you walked out of the gas station with a slightly full grocery bag and a huge smile on your face. they knew that smile. that ‘i-just-got-something-you-won’t-like-smile’.

you walked up to the boys and before you could even say anything, dean interrupted, “what did you get this time?”

you fake acted offended, “how dare you, dean!” you then giggled and pulled out two silly christmas headbands. one was reindeer antlers one had to little santa hats on springs that moved around.

they both gave you a look. they didn’t want to wear them but they were anyways. you ripped the little bit of packaging tbh eh had and held them out, silently telling them to pick one.

sam grabbed the one with the reindeer antlers and set them on his head. you continued to hold out the santa hat one. dean rolled his eyes and put them on. “don’t give me that, dean, you love it.” you chuckled at the dancing santa hats on his head.

you reached down into the backseat through the window to grab your camera out of your bag. “smile!” you said turning on your camera. and they did, they smiled for you. you snapped the picture of your two boys looking adorable in their christmas headbands.

when the three of you found the bunker, there were rooms upon rooms upon rooms to discover.

during a hunt, you got badly injured. one of the vamps had harshly shoved you and you fell down some old stairs, leading you to breaking your foot.

now the boys stopped hunting for a little less than a month so they could tend to you, even against your wishes not to.

sam spent most of the time right next to you; he didn’t want you out of his sight. he acted as if you were sick and could hardly stand.

“i’m not terminally ill, sam,” you said with a giggle as he picked you up to move you from the kitchen to the couch in the living room.

“i know, my love, i’m just being cautious,” he said stopping and giving your forehead a kiss.

once the doctor released you of your crutches, leaving you with just a boot, the boys finally went back to hunting. sam, reluctantly, agreed, with the exception that he’d call you multiple times to make sure you’re okay.

one of the days the boys were away, you decided to go through some of the storage closets you three had yet to go through.

you limped down the halls making your way to one of many. the room was lined with various boxes and cabinets that had a thin coat of dust.

you opened the first box which had nothing but spare bedding. thankful it was the first box you opened; definitely setting that aside to take out and put them in a closer storage closet.

the next box had old clothes, along with the next few boxes.

the next box you picked up and dusted off made a noise; a jingle sort of noise. you took your box cutter and quickly opened the box.

to your surprise, it was christmas decorations. the men of letters must’ve loved christmas. you couldn't find a tree in sight, nor any ornaments. that was okay, there were plenty of other decorations to do the trick.

you looked over at the pile the box was in to see if there were any more. you only found one more box which was full of string lights. you carried the boxes, one at a time, to the living room to start setting up what decorations you had.

your phone was set out on a table with a speaker connected to it and you had christmas music blaring through the bunker. you wanted to start with the lights. so that’s what you did. you grabbed the step ladder from a closet, the bag of push pins, and many extension cords and went to work. you wrapped the main staircase railing and many door frames and miscellaneous pieces of furniture with the yellow christmas lights.

next up was this little christmas village you found. there was a perfect table in the library for this. you grabbed the empty light box and put all the different pieces into it and carried that to the library. you meticulously placed each little building and extra pieces just the way you wanted.

the last of the decorations went up and there was only one left. the mistletoe. where could i put it, you thought to yourself.

it had to be somewhere where everyone could see but not in a doorway where everyone stands often. you decided to put it on the doorway to the living room. it was a simple and easy place to put it.

you grabbed a thumb tack and hung it up there, careful not to fall off the ladder with your boot. if sam knew that you were climbing on a ladder with a boot on your foot, he’d throw a fit, demand you sit on the couch and he do all the work.

not long after you hung the mistletoe, you made yourself some hot chocolate and cozied on up on the couch with the book you were currently reading. the christmas music was still playing but it was soft now.

sam had texted you he’d be home soon about 15 minutes ago and now you were just anticipating their arrival. you were so excited to show the boys the new and improved, and festive, bunker.

your ears perked up as you heard the best bunker door begin to open. you all but threw your blanket off of you and placed your book open face down and rushed to the door.

“holy shit,” you heard dean say in the distance. you fretted the boys as they were walking down the stairs. their eyes lit up and they scanned the room and beyond of the decorations.

“what’s all this, sweetheart?” sam said leaning to give you a kiss, half still distracted at all the decor.

“i was going through some closets and found a whole bunch of christmas decorations!” you beamed.

dean set his duffel bag on the table in the war room and went to go look around in the library and further.

sam set his duffel done too but stayed with you. you were admiring the joy on his face; you could tell he needed some holiday joy, especially since he never really got to have this.

“this is,” sam paused, speechless. he didn’t know how to describe this. “amazing. i can't believe you did all of this.” he smile wide as he looked at you.

you smiled back, impossibly harder since your smile was already big. sam interrupted you before you could get a word out. “wait,” you brows furrowed slightly. “did you climb up on a ladder to hang this stuff?” he questioned.

you simply nodded. you knew he was gonna be upset, he won’t be too upset with you, just concerned. “y/n, you could’ve hurt yourself further.”

“sam, baby, i’m okay. i promise i was extra extra careful. just for you.” you grabbed his hands, rubbing the back of them with your thumb to reassure him.

he just looked at you with worry in his eyes. “i’m okay, baby. why don’t you go take a shower,” you lean up closer to his face. “then meet me under the mistletoe.” you gave him a sweet kiss before patting his butt, the two of you giggling.

a little while later, you sat in the living room waiting for the love of your life. christmas music still softly filled the living room while you sipped on the last of your hot chocolate.

sam walked in, his sweatpants hanging low and his navy blue v-neck hugged him perfectly. his hair still wet but not dripping. he looked beautiful. he stood under the mistletoe and leaned against the door frame.

you looked up at him and smiled with adoration. you made your way over to your beautiful boyfriend.

standing in front of his tall frame you look up at him, “can we dance?” you ask.

“of course, my love.” he says contently taking your right hand in his left. his right went around your waist. your left rested on his chest.

the two of you just gazed into each others eyes while you rocked back and forth. elvis’ ‘blue christmas’ played softly in the background. it was one of your and sams favorite christmas songs.

occasionally, sam would spin you just to hear those melodic, beautiful giggles.

your head now resting on his chest; hearing his heartbeat was so relaxing to you.

“hey,” you look up at him. “we’re still under the mistletoe, you know.” sam smiled.

you look up and the mistletoe you hung up earlier, “huh, i guess so.”

the two of you kept your gaze before sam slowly dipped his head down. the two of you fit perfectly like a puzzle piece.

his lips soft against your as they moved in sync with yours. sams hands found theirs way to your thighs, lifting you up while your hands made their way around his neck, tangling in his hair; his lips never left yours.

sam blindly made his way to the couch, sitting down with you straddling him. the kiss didn’t last much longer. you pulled away and laid back against his chest, cuddling into him.

sam was the first to speak up, “this place looks amazing, baby, i’m proud of you.”

“thank you, sam.” you gave him a kiss on the cheek, laying back down against him.

the cinnamon candle you lit earlier was still burning and the christmas music still played as the two of you fell asleep on the couch.

the next morning, dean made his way to the kitchen and brewed himself a fresh cup of coffee. the coffee finished breeding and he added whatever he did necessary for the perfect cup. he took that cup and walked to the living room, unsuspecting of the two of you sleeping there.

he approached the living room and saw the two of you, you were in almost the exact same position as when you fell asleep. dean chuckled to himself, “those kids.” he said before sipping his coffee and walking back to the kitchen.

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

#spn #supernatural #sam winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfic #supernatural fluff #supernatural fic

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she-walks-on-starlight · 1 year ago

Note

Can u write some fluff and comfort for grayson.

i would appreciate it <3

Of course! Thanks for the request - ✨

Duty Bound

a/n: added in some hurt/comfort and a slight touch of angst for this one, it's just how the story came to me :) my requests are still open, send me your ideas I'd love to hear them 😊

Warnings: almost break-up, arguments, feelings of neglect

Summary: Grayson has been busy with work, and you're starting to feel tired of coming in second. When you deliver an ultimatum, will it make or break your relationship?

Word Count: 2k

“I think you are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on, y/n, and I want to spend my days and my nights making you happy. I will do anything you ask, will take you anywhere you wish to go as long as I can come with you. Just please say you’ll be mine, and nothing could possibly make me any happier.”

A beautiful memory.

You sighed as you packaged the baked macaroni cheese into Tupperware containers and labelled them before putting them in the fridge, yet another dinner you’d eaten alone.

Your cat, Whiskers, wound himself around your legs and staring reproachfully at you with his wide, green eyes. Rolling your eyes, you filled his feeding dish and put it on the floor for him, earning a grateful squeak. You scratch just behind his ears, when you hear the lock turn in the front door and the heavy thud of your girlfriend’s work boots as she finally arrived home.

“I’m home, beloved! Oh, do I smell cheese?”

She appeared in the kitchen archway, her Enforcer jacket slung casually over her shoulder and her pristine white shirt unbuttoned to just above her cleavage. You fix her with faux annoyed stare.

“You do smell cheese…I’ve just put your dinner in the fridge.”

Grayson huffs, running her hands through her messy, silver streaked locks. “I’m so sorry, my love. There was a situation in the Undercity that required my attention.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “I suppose I’ll have to let you off then, won’t I? Sit down, I’ll warm up your dinner.”

She obeyed, sitting at your small table as you warmed the macaroni cheese and started a spinach omelette for her lunch the next day. Grayson started unlacing her boots, lightly smacking your ass whenever you passed her because she knew it made you blush. Whiskers however soon realised she was home and pawed at her laces until she lavished him with attention. She looked tired, and you knew she must’ve had a very busy shift. It seemed with every week she was the Chief Enforcer more lines carved their way into her handsome face.

“I swear, more and more Shimmer is being pumped into the Undercity and we still haven’t got a single idea on how, or who is behind it all. Every factory I shut down, two more pop up to replace it! Not to mention how many Enforcers I’m losing to those Shimmer crazed thugs! I’ve had to inform three more wives of their husbands’ deaths today! Three!”

You kiss her cheek and run your hands through her hair, massaging the nape of her neck to help her relax. “I think you need a break, Gray.”

She groaned with pleasure at your ministrations but scoffed at your words. “If I take a break, I think the entire station will collapse.”

You tried to remain bright, placing her meal in front of her and grinning as she dug in eagerly. “Well…maybe we can do something this weekend? Maybe go to that little vegan café we both like?”

“Sorry my love, I can’t. I volunteered to lead a seminar on firearm maintenance on Saturday, and the Council wants me to make an appearance at the charity gala on Sunday.”

“Oh, a gala! That could be fun, it’s been a while since we’ve gone to one, I’ll have to see if I can dig out one of my old dresses…”

Grayson swallowed, eyeing you apologetically. “About that…I’m sorry. I’d like nothing more than to have you on my arm, but as I’m there to represent the Enforcers, it wouldn’t please the Council.”

You try to keep your breathing even, turning back to the stove and flipping the spinach omelette carefully.

“So, I’m not going to see you this weekend at all?”

You hear the scraping of her chair and close your eyes to prevent tears from falling as strong, broad arms wrap around you and the scent of her fresh, citrus cologne fills your nose as she kisses your cheek and your neck, her short curls tickling your face.

“Please don’t be too upset, my love. I have a duty to the people of Piltover.”

You sighed, your entire body filling with leaden disappointment. You were so sick of this. “And what about your duty to me?”

Grayson pulls away from you, her mouth agape. “What do you mean?”

Your hands ball into fists. “This apartment is haunted by you, Gray! I’m only graced with the presence of your shadow!”

“My love, I-”

“You’re always working, and when you’re not at work, then you’re at the gym! It’s like you have no time for me anymore! You’d always rather be doing something, anything else, than spend time with me, your girlfriend!”

Grayson crossed her arms. “That’s not true. My work is very important, beloved. I cannot simply drop everything to indulge in personal leisure.”

“But your work doesn’t have to take over your entire life, Gray.”

Grayson’s eyes were like liquid steel, sharp and cold. “My work IS my life. I have spent years, decades getting to where I am now! I thought you understood that.”

Your chest felt tight, your whole body felt stiff, and a prickling heat was coating your skin. This was a losing battle. Grayson was a woman of honour, a paragon of justice and was bound to her duty. Serving and protecting the people of Piltover was her lifeblood. That would never change, perhaps could never change.

“Then I think I should stay with my sister for a while.”

Before Grayson could reply, you turned on your heel and headed into the bedroom, burying yourself under the duvet and letting your salty tears burn into your face.

The next day had gone by in a blur. Grayson hadn’t been in the apartment when you’d woken up, so you assumed she’d gone into work early. Weary from working so late, but pleased you were able to complete the wedding cake on time for that lovely couple, you stabbed your key at the rusty lock in your apartment door until it finally clicked open and allowed you entry.

The apartment was dark and silent, but you expected that. Grayson was either at her office or she was hitting the gym. Again. The satisfied high from working at your small bakery was ebbing away, leeched from you by the depression radiating from the walls that had once surrounded you with love and warmth. You were too melancholy to cook, so you order chilli oil noodles from your favourite takeout place and trudged into the bedroom.

Opening the wardrobe, you were greeted with several Chief Enforcer uniforms, all starched and ironed to perfection, the belts and buckles gleaming proudly in the dim lighting of the bedroom. You carefully pushed them aside, not wanting to crease them and reached for your jumpers hanging beside them. As you folded them, you tried to ignore the sharp aching of your heart which only intensified when you pushed Grayson’s uniforms back into place on the rail.

You were pushing her out of your life.

You growled internally at the intrusive thought. Grayson had pushed you away first, now you were just letting yourself fall from the impact. If this is what Grayson wanted, then she would reap what she had sown.

On the bed lay your frayed duffel bag, beaten up from the many camping trips you and Grayson took. Used to take. It was open, the soft material hanging apart like a mocking, laughing mouth. However, as you approached it to put the jumpers inside, there was a folded piece of paper that wasn’t there when you’d left for work. As you opened it, you gasped as you recognised Grayson’s efficient scrawl.

Giovanni’s. 7pm. Wear the red dress. Please come.

Your eyes widened. Giovanni’s, a small Italian restaurant where you’d had your first dinner date with Grayson. The red dress she mentioned had been the one she’d slowly peeled you out of that evening, the first time she’d ever touched you like that. It had been the perfect night. Your heart fluttered at the implications of the note. Did she want to recreate that night? Or was this the final goodbye? Glancing the clock, you quickly put on the dress she requested and touched up your makeup before dashing out of the door and hailing a cab.

When you arrived, the waiter smiled knowingly and led you to the private terrace which was lit with candles and fairy lights. There was only a single table, by which Grayson stood wearing a crisp, black dress shirt, matching trousers, and a red paisley tie exactly the shade of your dress. She pulled out your chair for you as you sat, somewhat dazed, and kissed your knuckles before taking her seat opposite you.

Her eyes were serious, her forehead creased with stress. “I came home at lunchtime. I wanted to surprise you, to apologise for my recent behaviour…but I forgot today was one of your workdays. Just another way I’m failing you as a partner, I suppose.”

You reached for her, entwining your slender fingers with her larger ones, the warmth of her hand travelling up your arm and into your chest. “Gray…I-”

“I saw the bag.” Her voice was a whisper, the dreadful confession staining her lips with sadness. “I realised then, that you meant it when you said you were leaving. You were absolutely right. To have driven you to this, it’s unforgivable.”

You can feel your own heart swell at her words, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you take in your forlorn lover, such a great, upstanding woman reduced to despair, her eyes pleading and so very remorseful.

“Gray, I do understand-”

Grayson silenced you with a gentle finger to your lips. “Please, my love, I need to tell you. You are the sun that wakes me at dawn, you are the stars that watch over me at night. You are the beat in my heart, the reason I thrive. I love you more than anything I have ever even comprehended. To neglect you this way, is the greatest pain I could have ever inflicted upon myself. You are why I work so hard, so make sure you will always be safe and never have anything to fear. But you were right, I let it consume me. It almost cost me everything I hold dear.”

It's everything you’ve needed to hear, and it takes every shred of your emotional self-control not to burst into relieved sobs. “Gray, I love you. Your sense of honour and your need to fulfil your duty are all part of you, and I love you even more for having these qualities. I just want to be able to share my life with you and know that you’ll always want to come home to me, see me, be with me.”

Grayson leaned forward, cupping your cheek. “I want for nothing more. My soul sings when I am with you, and you alone, beloved.”

Then she kisses you, and it’s just like the first time all those years ago. She cups your face with her warm hands and wipes away any tears falling, her soft lips caressing yours with care and reverence, the two of you pouring your deep love for each other into a kiss that’s been a long time coming. When you break apart, you’re sure you are blushing, and Grayson’s look of pure adoration warms you from the inside out. You eat a beautiful meal and as you stand from the table, Grayson ceremoniously gathers you in her arms, bridal style, making you squeal with surprise and delight.

“Hey! Gray! What are you doing?”

She nuzzles into your neck. “We are going home. I have a weekend of pampering to spoil you with.”

“But what about your weekend obligations?”

Grayson kisses you, tender and slow. “Marcus is leading the seminar on Saturday, and I’ve informed the Council that I will not attend the gala. They will likely not miss the Enforcer representation anyway. Now come, I have many plans for this evening and many of them involve much less clothing. Shall we?”

Sighing contentedly, you rest your head on her shoulder as she carries you away. “Let’s go home.”

#my writing #arcane #lesbian #fanfic #arcane fanfic #grayson x you #grayson x reader #fluff #comfort #hurt/comfort #anon ask #thanks anon!#anonymous #request #angst with a happy ending #light angst

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militarymenrbomb · 5 months ago

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STORIES. I made the post yesterday about limiting stories I post here to Military themed stories. Well, I no sooner posted that and I found a reddit with military stories. Most of them I read seemed to be true. Here's one of them, you can decide for yourself. The reddit is titled

r/gaymilitarystories

Hookup with Marine

This was the early 2000s, and I was stationed in Honduras. The base was a Joint Task Force that consisted of most Army & Air Force, with a handful of Marines & Navy. The Army bar was the popular drinking spot on base. It was a typical weekend, I was at the bar throwing darts with friends. I was losing all night, so I decided to take a break and sit at the bar. I took a seat and tried to get the bartender's attention. As I waited, one of Marines came up and sat next to me. I'd seen him around base. He caught my eye the first time I saw him working the base gate. He was a bit shorter than me, probably about 6 foot, lean with a perfect ass.

He ordered a beer, and we started talking as we both waited. We were originally from different cities but only a couple hours apart in the rust belt. Our beers arrived, and we continued talking, mostly about football. Our teams are rivals, so it was mostly shit talk. As we talked, I checked him out and had a feeling he was doing the same. This was during don't as don't tell, so I had to be cautious. When drinking, I have a hard time telling if dudes are interested or just touchy feely because of the alcohol.

I was low on smokes, so I decided to say I was going to go back to my room, I figured if he was interested, he'd offer to walk with me. As soon as I finished telling him, he chugged the rest of his beer and said, "Let's go." It was about a 3 minute walk, and we were vibing the whole way. We got to my room, I unlocked the door and walked in. He followed and closed the door behind him. When I heard the door close, I knew he was interested. I bent over to grab my smoke from a drawer, and he came up behind me and grabbed my hips. He leaned over and whispered that he enjoyed talking and would like to get to know me better.

I stood up, turned around, and we were instantly making out. Our hands were feverishly exploring each other's bodies. I ran my hand over his pants and felt his package. I'm verse and I originally wanted to top him but in the moment I knew I needed to service that hard cock. I dropped to my knees and unleashed the beast. He was packing over 8 inches, it was thick with visible veins. It was truly perfection, I went to work. I was in heaven work up and down his shaft, giving my tongue a workout. He grabbed my head and started to fuck my mouth without mercy.

After about a minute or two, he took his cock out of my mouth and in what seemed like one motion, he picked me up and threw me on my bed. He asked if I wanted to be filled by a Marine, I didn't get to respond and he was tearing my pants off. I grabbed the lube from my night stand and handed it to him. I told him not to bother fingerings me, I just wanted that cock in me. He lubed up and slowly entered, it felt so good being filled by him. I had a feeling of ecstacy, I could not contain my moaning so I grabbed a pillow and covered my face. As he fucked me harder he pushed the pillow into face. I couldn't contain myself and shot the biggest hands free load. He scooped some up and ate it. He had the best rhythm going as he slammed me with all 8 inches. He said he was close and flipped me over and took me doggy. I could tell he was close and told him to fill me up. He pumped his load deep in me. We laid there with him in me as he slowly went soft.

We cleaned up and headed back to the bar, my friends were so focused on darts they didn't know I left the bar. There was a free board so we decided to play, it was amazing throwing darts as I felt his load slowly leaking out of me. We made it a regular thing for the next couple weeks, until he left for his next assignment.

#military #united states military #united states armed forces #hot military stories

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esoteric-space · 2 months ago

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The Loveland Pit Stop

The night of Christmas Eve had worn thin enough to see Christmas morning threatening on the horizon when I spotted the Loveland Pit Stop sign floating in the dark. The harsh fluorescent lights buzzed with a peculiar frequency, a sound somewhere between electricity and insect wings. It was an unusual stop on a routine trip. The coffee from three states ago had worn off, leaving behind a metallic taste and a tremor in my hands. I looked around at the parking lot full of cars as I pumped gas into my car.

In the fogged windows of the convenience store, Christmas lights hung unevenly across the dusty frames, their strands drooping where the tape had surrendered to gravity. A few bulbs flickered reluctantly, their dull hues lingering just a moment too long before fading, while others stayed stubbornly dark, leaving gaps in the rhythm. The fog on the glass softened the glow into muted pastels, blending reds, greens, and blues into a lethargic kaleidoscope, as if the lights themselves bore the weight of the empty hours.

Mom's kitchen light would be on, even this early. She’d wake up before dawn to bake, the smell of sugar and cinnamon curling through the house like a warm embrace, spilling out into the frosty air when she opened the door to greet me. It was a ritual as constant as the seasons, her way of holding onto something in a world that kept changing.

The pump clicked at $14.08. The automatic doors parted with a whisper.

Inside, the fluorescent lights took on a pallid hue, casting a stark glare over the scuffed grey linoleum floor, amplifying the wear on every surface. The store's air was thick, almost syrupy with the artificial pine scent of holiday air fresheners mixed with something older and sweeter, like decades of coffee spilled in places no one had looked. Shelves line the narrow aisles, their contents arranged in a haphazard attempt at abundance: bags of chips with crinkled, faded packaging lean against each other, off-brand candies sit under a faint sheen of dust, and energy drinks in mismatched rows add a pop of color to the otherwise muted display. A whirring cooler hums faintly from the back, where pre-made sandwiches and cartons of milk crowd under a dim light that flickers intermittently.

I grabbed a basket, its metal edges cold and rough, and moved through the aisles to begin my routine: powdered donuts that Mom pretends to hate but always snags from my bag, a bottle of Advil to stave off the headache crawling steadily behind my eyes, and coffee to fill the hollow ache left by hours of highway monotony. My footsteps echoed oddly, the sound arriving a fraction too late as I moved through the store grabbing the items.

As I reached for the coffee station at the back, a row of cheap Santa plush toys loomed on a nearby shelf, their beady plastic eyes locked on me as I stood in front of the coffee machine. The digital display didn’t greet me with the usual cheerful prompts for dark roast or decaf but instead cycled through an erratic cascade of random numbers, each flickering with unsettling speed. I tapped the screen once, then again, harder, but it didn’t respond, the numbers continuing their frantic, nonsensical dance. A faint hum came from the machine, a sound that seemed to rise and fall in uneven waves, as if the display itself were breathing.

Turning toward the counter to look for help, I paused as I noticed that the cash register sat unattended. I slowly walked to the front, the air near the register felt heavier, cooler somehow. I froze, my fingers curling tighter around the handle of the basket until the metal bit into my skin. My breath caught in my throat, the faintest puff of it visible in the suddenly cool air. The chair’s slow, almost deliberate sway pulled my gaze, each creak of its movement stretching the silence into something alive. The radio sputtered, a warped voice crooning half a line of a carol before dissolving into static that sounded like someone trying to whisper in my ear. The chair behind it, slightly askew, swayed just barely as if someone had vacated it a moment too soon.

My eyes drifted to the counter, where an abandoned name tag glimmered faintly under the flickering fluorescent lights. The letters blurred and twisted, rearranging themselves into shapes that looked familiar but meant nothing, like the remnants of a dream slipping through my fingers. My pulse thudded in my ears, louder than the soft hum of the cooler or the faint ticking of the coffee machine behind me. I took a step back, my sneakers catching on the sticky floor, the sound echoing loudly in the empty store.

"Hello?" My voice fell flat, absorbed by the dense, peppermint-saturated air, leaving behind an unnatural stillness that prickled at the edges of my senses. No hum of the cooler or the faint ticking of the coffee machine.

From somewhere in the back came a faint, unsettling sound—a dry, deliberate scrape, like paper being torn one agonizing fiber at a time. The coffee machine sputtered and gurgled, breaking the silence in uneven, wet gasps. My eyes darted toward its polished stainless-steel surface, catching the faint shimmer of my reflection. It was there, but wrong. Its head tilted slightly, almost curiously, dark eyes narrowing with a piercing intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. The stare was unyielding, searching, as though it were peeling back layers I didn’t even know were there. Then, it smiled.

My chest tightened, and my breath hitched as I stumbled back, the basket slipping from my trembling hands. Powdered donuts rolled across the linoleum, leaving trails of sugar-white dust that seemed stark against the dingy floor. The reflection didn’t flinch as I did. It stopped smiling, leaning closer to the polished metal surface, its hand raising slowly as though reaching for me. My own hand twitched in response, drawn by an inexplicable pull toward the gesture.

Behind the reflection, something shifted. Other faces began to appear—versions of me, emerging one after the other, their features faint and fragmented, like sketches left unfinished. Their presence was a ripple, each one more translucent, more fractured than the last.

"Hello?" I said again, my voice thin and wavering. The word felt hollow, swallowed by the thick air pressing in around me.

The reflection’s lips moved silently, mouthing words I couldn’t hear. My heart hammered as I instinctively stepped closer, the movement automatic, detached from any conscious choice. It leaned in, its hand sliding down the coffee machine’s surface, leaving streaks in the condensation like tears trailing down glass.

Then its head snapped up, the motion sudden and sharp, locking its gaze onto mine. The air seemed to collapse, crushing and heavy, as the faces behind it stirred. One by one, they pressed their hands against the invisible walls of their prisons, their eyes wide with recognition—and terror. Their mouths opened, straining in silent screams that I couldn’t hear but could feel, reverberating like static deep in my chest. I wanted to scream too, to break the suffocating silence, but my voice stayed buried, trapped beneath the weight of a truth I couldn’t name.

I turned and ran toward the exit, but the automatic doors didn’t budge. Their glass panes remained sealed, fogging over as though something outside was breathing heavily against them. Panic surged as I banged against the doors, the dull thud of my fists swallowed by the dense air. I grabbed a magazine rack and swung it against the glass, desperation driving my arms. The rack clattered to the floor, its metal legs bending uselessly, but the doors didn’t even crack.

Gasping, I turned back to the coffee machine, my heart pounding in my ears. Its surface reflected only the dimly lit store now, empty and still, as if nothing had ever been wrong. But the silence wasn’t clean; it carried an edge, a tension strung tight like an invisible wire.

The radio crackled suddenly, the static from earlier flipping through fractured bursts of sound. Voices rose and fell, overlapping incoherently until they steadied, just for a moment. A smooth, familiar voice emerged mid-line, carrying a haunting resonance that prickled along my spine.

“You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”

In that moment, the store stretched around me, aisles elongating into infinite corridors of fluorescent-lit limbo. My reflection watched with patient understanding as reality peeled away like old wallpaper, revealing the void beneath. The last thing I saw before the world inverted was my own face, watching from behind the glass, eyes filled with a horror I would soon learn to understand.

Then I was nothing. Not darkness - darkness requires eyes to perceive it. Not silence - silence needs ears to notice its weight. I became an absence, a space between thoughts in a mind that no longer existed. Perhaps I floated there for eons, or for the length of a single heartbeat. Perhaps I had always been there, would always be there, in that infinite moment between being and becoming. Time has no meaning here. Until it does.

—

Reality flickered back like a fluorescent bulb catching current, starting with the soft whisper of automatic doors. And suddenly there I was, watching myself walk in with tired eyes and trembling hands, moving with hesitation. Christmas lights hung in the same uneven pattern, their strands drooping where tape had surrendered to gravity. The same burnt out bulbs. The fog on the windows softened their glow into the same muted pastels I remembered. The magazine rack I'd hurled at the glass lay undisturbed in its place, metal legs unbent, covers glossy under the fluorescent lights. The windows showed no sign of my desperate attempts to break them. It was as if none of it had happened.

Or perhaps it hadn't happened yet…

I looked toward the counter where I’d seen the abandoned name tag, the swaying chair. There had never been anyone there, I realized now—not tonight. Not any night. I watched myself scan the empty store, remembering how wrong everything felt in that first moment. My hands pressed against the cold surface of the coffee machine, desperate to warn, to prevent what was coming. But like all the others trapped here, I could only follow the script written in time itself. Powdered donuts, Advil, coffee.

I tilted my head, intrigued by the figure approaching, the way her movements carried the weight of something unresolved. I’d seen myself countless times in reflections, but this was different. It was me—my face, my body—alive and moving, untethered from the glass. A rush of fascination gripped me, a strange, giddy curiosity at seeing myself from this side. My breath caught as our eyes met, and for a moment, I simply stared, taking in the contours of a face I knew so intimately yet had never truly seen. I couldn’t help it—I smiled, a quiet, absurd acknowledgment of the moment. The ridiculousness of seeing myself, real and tangible, yet out of reach, tugged at the corners of my mouth like a private joke only I could understand.

The basket slipped, powdered donuts rolling across the linoleum, leaving trails of dust. I pressed closer to my side of the surface, my palm trailing against the cold, smooth barrier as I leaned in.

I watched as I took an involuntary step forward, my movement mirroring mine, both of us caught in the same gravitational pull I remembered all too well. Desperation tingled at the edges of my thoughts—I wanted to warn myself, to break through the glass with something louder than my helpless smile. But the absurdity of it lingered, that same hollow truth whispering that I’d already tried—and failed—before.

A whispered "Hello?" vibrated through the metal between us. I tried to speak, to warn, but my words dissolved into nothingness. When I dragged my fingers across the surface, they left trails in the condensation—proof that I existed here, in this impossible space behind the glass, where warm breath could still meet cold metal. I looked at how the droplets floated against an invisible barrier from my new perspective. Then I looked up sharply, meeting eyes that still held questions I now knew the answers to.

Behind me, countless versions of myself pressed against the boundaries of their reflections; their presence hummed like static electricity against my skin. Their horror, fascination, and acceptance rippled through me like emotions I had already felt or was yet to feel. The air grew thick as reality folded around me. The fluorescent lights above flickered in a rhythm that felt like language, shadows bending and twisting against the edges of the store. Soon, I would join the reflections again, another fragment in the endless choreography of fractured time.

I wondered if anything truly existed beyond these doors anymore. If somewhere, beyond this pocket of frozen time, Mom's kitchen light actually burned—its warm glow cutting through the predawn darkness like it always had, like it always should. If she was still waiting, moving between window and oven in an eternal rhythm, for a Christmas morning that would never quite reach dawn. If any morning still existed at all.

#horror #psychological horror #magical realism #dark fantasy #liminal spaces #supernatural #short story #christmas #holidays

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pumpingstationsuk · 3 days ago

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How to Choose the Right Sewage Pump for Your Home or Business

Selecting the right sewage pump is crucial for efficient wastewater management. Learn about submersible, pedestal, grinder, and effluent pumps, and key factors like flow rate, head height, and durability. Ensure smooth operation and prevent system failures. Contact Packaged Pumping Stations for expert advice and installation.

#sewage pump selection guide #best sewage pump UK #grinder pump benefits #sewage pump for homes #business sewage pump solutions #wastewater pump efficiency #sewage pump installation UK #Packaged Pumping Stations

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dog-in-the-rainn · 3 months ago

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Who wants to see all the little bits in my collection?

Pt 1 with the box lid

Train ticket from last year cost $1.50 to get to the city with my brother. We ate pastries and walked around the mall not buying anything.

Gaudy clip on earrings I bought at an op shop. My ears hurt looking at them.

Plastic dino my friend bought me in a lucky dip package at a fair. We got strawberry milkshakes and drove to a gas station and he let me pump gas into his car. I got exactly $20 in and I smoked until my chest hurt. Good day.

Shell from a beach in New Zealand I went to after my grandma died.

My favourite toy car.

Lego dogs I made with my brother (they owned the lego treehouse we built).

Stamp. I used to have a penpal but we stopped talking.

Ceramic owl from a vendor at a mall I went to when I was really little. He wasn't selling very well and I thought they were really cool but didn't have any money. He gave it to me for free.

Dice. No story just dice.

Glow in the dark stars that fell off my window.

Origami gum wrapper heart my friend made. We used to kiss sometimes.

A few of the hundreds of paper stars I made when I was too sad to move but didn't want to feel useless.

Bubble mix I got free from the nativity show at the church on my street last year.

#my collection #trinkets #we never truely own anything #but i love these

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intubatedangel · 2 years ago

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Pageant Fever : Chapter 3

Story Index

Pageant Fever: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

* * *

Lucy grabbed the foil packet from the rear pouch on the monitor, unravelling the cable before ripping the packet open to access the pads. She looked down at Zara's chest, noticing just how much sweat covered it, to the point it was forming small beads that rolled off down her side or into the valley between her breasts. Before attaching the pads, she grabbed another bag and pulled out a small towel, using to try and dry off Zara's flesh so the aed pads would get a good connection.

As she did that, Janice had rotated around to Zara's head. She did a quick visual exam to look for a head injury but found nothing noteworthy. Janice tilted the young woman’s head back and thrust her jaw forward to open her airway. Lucy saw Janice frown out the corner of her eye, then the retired medic reached for the airway bag and pulled out a manual suction device. She worked the tube on the end of it into Zara's mouth, pushing it in deep, then pulled on the handle in the centre, expanding the bellows style bulb in the centre, sucking out the foamed spittle that had collected in Zara's airway during the seizure.

Lucy peeled the plastic backing off each of the large square Quick-Combo pads, placing one just above Zara's bra, towards her right shoulder, while the other went on her left flank, between the bottom of her rib cage and her left breast. Lucy pressed them both hard, smoothing out the pads and ensuring the adhesive had a good grip. She then turned to the monitor, twisting the dial around to point at the 100J mark and pressing the button to begin the charging sequence.

Meanwhile, Janice put the suction device to the side and selected a geudel airway, inserting it backwards then rotating it into position so that the green ringed tip rested against Zara's lips. "She's barely making any respiratory effort. I'm going to start bagging her." Janice told Lucy as she ripped the sterile packaging of a purple ambu bag open and readied it, attaching the mask and plugging a line from the small oxygen canister into the back of the bulb..

Lucy watched as Janice sealed the mask over Zara's mouth and nose, squeezing the bag and pumping oxygen into Zara's lungs, inflating her sweat slick chest. Beside her the monitor let out a double beep. "Ready for synchronised shock at 100 joules, bag away." Lucy said, noticing there was still a lot of people around them. "Everyone stay clear!" She said assertively, quickly checking she had her finger on the shock button before making sure nobody was too close to the limp form on the floor. "Shocking!"

* * *

Anna stood quietly next to Tilly as Carl spoke briefly on the phone. He finished, hanging the phone back on the wall and was halfway turned when Tilly spoke up.

"What have we got?" She asked, excited and clearly jumping at the chance for something juicy.

Carl took a moment to share a knowing smirk with Anna. It was almost exactly how she used to react to the red phone when she had started here. Hell, she had felt the question bubbling up to her own lips, even though she wasn't working. Tilly looked between them for a second, slightly confused by the interplay between them, but snapped her attention back to Carl when he started to speak.

"Just an early heads up. Young woman having a seizure at the convention centre. It's only a mile down river so they'll bring her in shortly. Ambulance isn't there yet, but the centre has volunteer paramedics, so they don't expect much of a delay. ETA is anywhere from 15-20 minutes."

"Oh, cool. Is there anything I can do?" Tilly asked, practically vibrating as if ready to take off at a moment’s notice.

Carl glanced at Anna and chuckled. "I need to give Neuro a heads up, and radiology too in case an MRI is needed. Details are pretty thin though, so we'd better play it safe. Go and get Resus 3 setup and ready just in case." He looked around the nurses station, but evidently couldn't see what he was looking for. "Apparently Trish is busy, do you want to go and observe her?" He asked Anna.

Tilly turned to her expectantly, looking hopeful and somehow even more excited. "If it won't cause any problems. I'm not sure where things would stand legally."

"So long as you aren't treating patients I don't think there'll be an issue, and I'll send Trish along when I see her for the official sign off." Carl replied.

"In that case, I'd love too." Anna said with a smile towards Tilly. She reached out to give Carl's hand a quick squeeze then followed the bubbly young nurse through the black marked doors to the Resus Suite.

It was amazing to see just how much Tilly had grown in the last two years. Not physically. She was about 5 foot high, with an almost quintessential cheerleader build and such a youthful face that if you only looked at that you'd place her closer to 17 than her actual 21. It was the confidence that had been the biggest change. Back during Anna's ICU stay, Tilly had been meek, quiet and nervous to the point of being positively twitchy. As they'd talked over a couple of weeks, the younger nurse had started to open up and more importantly begun to believe in herself.

Now, like Carl had said, the young nurse gave of a sense of having been born for the role. And her personality, her energy, shone through, even in the way she moved. To boot, it was infectious. Just following Tilly, Anna felt a little more pep in her own step and every single person Tilly passed seemed to get just a little brighter simply by her very presence.

Anna had wanted to come back to work. Simply being around Tilly made her excited for it.

* * *

Zara's whole body gave a single sharp twitch as the burst of electrical charge zapped across her chest in an instant. One of her thin strapped shoes was kicked off by the motion and her head limply rolled to one side. Lucy frowned as she watched the monitor that continued its urgent alarming.

"No response. Bag her, I'll charge again at 150." She ordered, setting the defibrillator to charge up. As it did so, she returned to the drug bag, taking out an IV kit. With the practiced efficiency of years of experience she cracked it open, swabbed the back of Zara's wrist with a sterilising wipe and was lining up the needle with the vein by the time the monitor let out it's notifying bleeps. She ignored it, pushing the needle into the vein with a smooth motion, then deftly peeled off the backing of the adhesive wings. "Going with a round of adenosine." She said, hurrying to draw the drug.

Deep in focus, she didn't notice the approaching commotion until it broke through the ring of onlookers. "...tell me what is going on? Why isn't anyone on the st..." The voice cut off with a strangled shriek. Lucy glanced up to see a woman with a shocked expression on her face. Although her frame was substantially different to Zara's, squat and heavy set compared to Zara's lithe, graceful appearance, judging by the features she could see, and the reaction, it was clearly Zara's mother. She still didn't expect the next words out of the dumpy woman's mouth. "Do you have any idea how much that dress cost!" She shouted.

A wave of revulsion swept across the onlookers like a physical force as they realised what she had just said. Lucy felt it too, though she'd been in the job long enough to know that sometimes, though rare, the shock of seeing a loved one in a medical emergency can make people blurt out things without even thinking. She hoped this was one of those instances. Luckily Janice intercepted Zara's mother's attention.

"Ma'am, your daughter is very ill right now, please stay back." She said, shuffling back on her knees as Lucy finished inserting the drug and returned to the monitor.

"Adenosine in, ready to shock at 150, everyone stay back." She repeated, doing another check down the length of Zara's body. "Shocking!" She announced as her finger pushed the button. Zara gave another jerk as her heart was struck by the jolt, her arms and legs flicking out slightly before falling still. The monitor continued its alarming for a few more seconds, then settled into a rapid bleeping. "Back in sinus tach. How's her breathing?"

"Still diminished, but she's making a bit more effort." Janice reported.

"Keep bagging her for now." Lucy said, blowing out a breath and taking a moment to reset herself.

Now that the current emergency was resolved, there was still the underlying issues to take care of. Lucy pulled over a bag and took out a unit of saline, spiking it with the line that she then plugged into the IV catheter. After that she rooted through a different piece of kit for an ear thermometer, passing it to Janice as she stood up.

"Katie." Lucy said to the girl who was still hovering around. "Just hold this up about here for me ok." She told her, waiting for Katie to take the bag and nod in understanding. Now to deal with the mother. Her comment about the dress had cleared some space around the woman, which was probably for the best when discussing potential medical information. "Ma'am? What's your name?"

"Jaya." The woman said, staring down at her daughter.

"Right Jaya. Has Zara ever had a seizure before?" Lucy asked her gently.

The woman finally pulled her gaze away from the limp young woman. She shook her head slowly. "No...No never."

"Okay." Lucy nodded, making the motion big to keep Jaya's attention on her. "Has she been ill recently? Headache? Nausea? Fever?"

"She hasn't mentioned anything. She was fine when I left her in the dressing room."

"Is she on any medication at all?"

A slight hesitation then another shake of the head. "Nothing."

"Right." Lucy braced herself before the next question, knowing it could lead to some sort of explosive reaction. "Has she ever used any drugs? Cocaine? Ecstasy?"

A frown cut across Jaya's face, and she seemed to tense up, gripping her handbag tightly, but her voice at least remained at an indoor level. "No she would never even dare!"

Lucy held up a placating hand. She waited a moment until Jaya subsided. "Has she been out in the last couple days? She might not have taken anything intentionally."

"No. She doesn't go out. Not to bars and not to parties! Why are you asking all these questions?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just trying to rule things out." Lucy told her, using her best sympathetic voice, despite Jaya's increasingly combative attitude.

Janice took that moment to interject. "She's at 39.5 C."

Lucy glanced around in shock. If Zara truly hadn't shown any signs of being ill just an hour ago, then whatever caused this fever was incredibly aggressive. A temperature that high is on the cusp of being a life threatening emergency in itself.

Which is why Lucy was very relieved when she heard a booming voice commanding the ring of onlookers to move back. She didn't need to even look around to know that it was her regular partner on the ambulance, Dave. More help was here.

* * *

Anna leaned against a counter just inside the doors of Resus 3, watching Tilly as she pulled open the drawers of the crash cart, checking everything on the list fixed inside the drawer was there. As she did, her head bobbed, as if she was listening to some music. She worked up from bottom to top, and after finishing that drawer, she closed with a bump of her hip.

"Everything's there." She said to Anna with a smile.

"You're sure, you've got everything?" Anna asked her.

Tilly cocked her head, looking around the room, her gaze falling on each cupboard, cabinet and piece of equipment. She turned back to Anna. "I'm pretty sure..." She said.

Anna nodded. "You did. But it's always best to double check yourself. Mistakes in here can literally be life or death."

"I know." Tilly said, stepping over to the counter and leaning against it next to Anna, looking towards the trauma bed with a thoughtful expression.

"Carl say's you're doing well." Anna told her. "And you seem to be enjoying yourself. I mean, I've never seen anyone practically dancing as they checked supplies."

Tilly glanced at her, a slight blush warming her cheeks. "It helps me focus. Like you said, there's a lot riding on us doing things right."

"That's one way to do it. Can you still focus when things get intense?" Anna asked, curious. Dancing around the resus room would be basically the opposite of professionalism.

"I have no problem there. When things are going crazy, I'm in the zone. It's why I love working down here. When it's quiet though..." Tilly shrugged. Anna got the sense that she'd explained things this way many times, and after a moment it finally twigged.

"You have ADHD." Anna made it a statement, rather than a question. Tilly nodded, while seeming to shrink in on herself slightly. "Do your supervisors know?" Anna asked.

"It's in my file. I don't know if they read it, I don't exactly broadcast it though. People sometimes get the wrong idea and don't trust me with anything important, which just makes things worse."

"Hmm." Anna, murmured as she thought for a moment. Tilly was looking at the floor, clenching her arms tighter. Anna turned and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Well. If you come back here after you graduate, I promise to always throw you at the biggest fire."

Tilly snapped her head up. "Really?" Anna smiled and nodded, prompting Tilly to grin, that bubbling energy returning in an instant.

Carl took that moment to come into Resus 3. He looked grave. "Paramedics are on site, but they're rushing the patient in. She's got a fever of 40.2 and climbing, and has already had a run of SVT." He looked to Tilly. "We're going to need as many cold packs as you can carry. Then get into high grade PPE, we may be dealing with an aggressive infection" He told her.

Tilly glanced at Anna, the corner of her mouth curling in a quick smile before she darted around Carl, heading for the store room.

* * *

The gurney rattled gently, it's wheels squeaking on the polished floor of the central corridor of the convention centre as the paramedics rushed it towards the entrance where the ambulance was parked. Lucy pushed with her elbows, her hands occupied with holding the ambubag to Zara's face, pumping the bulb every few seconds.

As soon as Dave and Steve had arrived to find their patient no longer simply seizing, but apparently gripped by a rapidly escalating fever of unknown source, they made the call to scoop and run. She needed cooling as soon as possible, and the few cool packs the ambulance carried had been left inside it. With Zara in such a precarious state but as stable as she was likely to get without intense intervention, the decision had been simple. They'd hurried to swap monitors, then load her onto a board then the gurney, throwing a thin sheet over her bared chest to preserve some modesty, and had placed the ambulances monitor between her legs.

Lucy kept an eye of the display, watching Zara's rapid heart rate flicker across the screen. Dave and Steve drove the gurney, guiding it through the gap being formed ahead of them by the centre's security. Janice trailed behind them, shepherding Jaya while carrying a bag in her hand in addition to the one strapped to her back.

The team of paramedics finally broke out into the sunshine outside, rolling the gurney down the access ramp and up to the ambulance, spinning it around so that Zara's head would go in first. Once the doors were open Lucy dropped the ambu bag onto the bed, climbing into the ambulance and helping to get the gurney inside. She resumed bagging as the others got themselves sorted, Dave joining her in the back while Steve went up front to drive. Janice showed Jaya to the front passenger seat, then popped her head in through the side door.

"Here's your drug kit Luce, I'll take the rest of our gear back." She said to Lucy, who nodded in thanks. Janice looked at Zara, still limp and sweating on the gurney, a grim expression on her face. "Let me know how it goes." She said, before pushing the door closed.

"Get them cool packs out." Lucy told Dave. Now that the ambulance doors were closed, she cast the sheet off of Zara, baring her chest once more.

Dave quickly pulled out all three chemical cool packs, cracking them to activate the reaction. They were bigger than those you could buy at a pharmacy, large enough that they covered the span between Zara's arm pits, fully covering her breasts. The second went over the beauty queens abdomen, while Dave did his best to shape the third around Zara's head and neck. With that done, Dave looked around to the front of the ambulance. "Get us going Steve, we don't have time to waste!"

The ambulance rumbled and started to move. Even though the journey would be short, there was still plenty for the two medics in the back to do. Dave was taking a pair of shear to the rest of Zara's dress, cutting from the side of the waist down to the top of the side slit. Without that small bit of fabric he could fully spread the dress to be clear of Zara's body. He also removed the slim set of underwear, leaving Zara totally naked on the gurney. Her whole body was slick with a layer of clammy sweat.

At her head Lucy was doing her best to keep breathing for Zara, while also trying to get a temperature sensor attached. It was tough, the sweat repelling the adhesive, but with a clean and quick movements she was eventually able to get the sensor to stick. It probably wouldn't hold for long, but it wouldn't need to. Once they got Zara into the emergency department they'd probably insert a probe into a central port. As it stood, the monitor began to show a reading, the number joining that of her heart rate and flashing an angry red.

"Surface temp is already 40.7C. She's burning up." Lucy said with a shake of her head, looking down at Zara. Her eyes had cracked open slightly, but there was no alertness behind them.

"Going with another bag of saline and some antipyretics." Dave said, shuffling about and manipulating the iv line.

They were halfway to the hospital when Zara twitched slightly, her arms and legs contracting for a brief moment. Lucy looked between the monitor and the body on the gurney. The monitor was still alarming at the extremely rapid heart rate, and Zara gave another small twitch.

"Muscle tremors." Dave said in a low voice. "This isn't looking good."

#Anna Swift #CPR #Resus Writing #Defib #Medical Drama

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trapangeles · 9 months ago

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Tha Doggpound Unites West Coast Legends on "We All We Got"

youtube

Tha Doggpound is back, rallying the West Coast with their new single, “We All We Got,” featuring Tha Eastsidaz and Snoop Dogg. Directed by Snoop and Dah Dah, the video highlights Daz Dillinger and Kurupt as they deliver powerful verses emphasizing unity and loyalty.

Daz sets the tone with raw lyrics like, "I'm from Long beach / Two one S-T, these niggas zesty / Put a slug in your bestie, disrespect me," followed by Kurupt's, "On the hunt nigga, what you bitch niggas want? / Spin you around with the pump, dump and be done."

Snoop Dogg brings his signature style to the hook, chanting, “I Run the plays with the best routes / Show these muthafuckers what the West bout.” Tha Eastsidaz also make a strong appearance, keeping the G-funk spirit alive.

“We All We Got” follows their previous release “Smoke Up,” also featuring Snoop, and serves as the title track for their upcoming album, W.A.W.G. (We All We Got), set to drop in June. This single not only reaffirms their dominance in the rap game but also showcases the timeless unity and strength of West Coast hip-hop.

Stay tuned for more from Tha Doggpound and make sure to catch their new album next month!

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gingerteaonthetardis · 2 years ago

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“Hey, have you seen the…? Oh.” (tentoo x rose) for the lighthearted prompts? 💕

love love love your writing and I hope you’re having a great day!

hey, dear, thanks for your patience on this one! i had my housewarming this past weekend and hosted some out-of-town visitors, so i had to put down my pen for a little bit. but i'm back with a spot of domestic fluff! hope you don't mind that this story is kind of baby-centric. i couldn't really have a pete's world fic without at least the *implication* of mia...

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

They'd agreed the place in London was only temporary—a stepping-stone on the path to a more permanent home, or possibly on the path to the TARDIS 2.0. Actually, she wasn't super clear what path they were specifically on, but it didn't matter, did it?

Because they were on it together. And together, they tended to find their way.

Anyway, they had agreed.

Their landlord was a bit laissez-faire about things, but that didn't mean they ought to put in their own time and energy fixing the flat up only to have to move out once their lease ended. And Rose was fine with that. She felt no need to repaint or restain and make her mark. Interior design was hardly her passion, and the Doctor seemed to feel more or less the same.

So, when the accident happened—"Good accident!" the Doctor had cried—and it became clear they needed more space, she'd not been terribly invested in redoing the office from the ground-up. They just needed to make it habitable, and most of all, safe.

"It's only temporary," she'd reminded him. "I'll keep checking the papers and asking 'round." With a smile, she'd added, "We'll be somewhere with more space in no time, promise."

No time, however, had turned into four months. And then six.

And the dramatic change that was coming seemed to eat up every spare moment of their lives. There weren't enough hours in the day for all the doctor's appointments and Torchwood check-ups and birthing classes, on top of full work days and date nights and Sunday suppers with her mum and Pete and Tony. And Rose was tired; frequently, comprehensively tired—"Good tired," she would tell the Doctor, pushing their house search further and further to the wayside.

All the while, the Doctor chipped away at what had ultimately become his office-cum-workshop-cum-private laboratory. Boxes were packed and boxes were shuffled away into nebulous storage, and Rose rarely had the energy to do more than marvel that he was capable of being so organised. He'd got a label-maker.

That wasn't to say she wasn't excited.

Routine outings with her mum resulted in more than just the bare necessities of parenthood. Packages arrived seemingly every day, almost gloatingly refilling the spaces the Doctor had just opened up. She unwrapped them all with a curious blend of wonder and excitement and trepidation.

Sometimes, she barely remembered her own purchases and the two-pack of little dino-printed dungarees or the double electric breast pump were like a surprise present from her past self, jolting her back to the reality where this was happening. This was her life.

This was her life, and it wasn't waiting for her, no matter how much she tried to put certain decisions on hold or tried to tell herself things were temporary.

So, it was a Tuesday. It was after four, but not yet late enough for the autumn sun to have fully sunk behind the London skyline. And her head was still back at Torchwood, in the Archive, where she'd been reassigned from the field to review old disaster footage, looking for signs of alien intervention. She'd moved through the tube stations by reflex, not fully present and yet not terribly far away: her thoughts no longer tended to veer toward another universe, but rather, towards the more tangible and immediate past of this world. She wanted—she thought, as she dug through her handbag for her keyring—to ask the Doctor something specific, actually. About the Territories, and an assassination at which he'd been present in the other universe. She wanted to compare notes.

Retrieving her keys, Rose let herself into the flat. There was no sign of the Doctor in the living room, and when she poked her head into the kitchen, he wasn't there either. She removed her earbuds, cocking her head and listening. Down the hall, she thought she heard shuffling.

"Doctor?" she called.

Instead of an answer, she got a kind of thumping sound, and a muffled grunt. He must have been packing more boxes.

"Doctor, I'm home," she said, raising her voice as she turned down the hallway. She didn't bother with taking off her shoes; she was getting big enough around the middle now that she tended to ask his help with them anyway. But she shrugged off her pink peacoat—a maternity gift from her mum—and folded it over her arm. "First day on desk duty. You were right about the Archive job, though, it's not boring at all. Actually, hey, have you seen the—? Oh."

She jerked to a halt in front of the open office door, suddenly realising…

It wasn't an office at all.

At least, not anymore.

All signs of the packed boxes were gone. The Doctor's desk—which had been the last big holdout, shoved into the back corner where he could often be found hunched at work at all hours—was nowhere to be found. In its place was white wood draped in thick plastic sheeting. It was a piece Rose vividly remembered picking out, and seeing it even through the warped plastic covering brought a sudden flood of tears to her eyes. It was dimensional, real. A crib. And beside it stood the Doctor, stepping clumsily off the last rung of a ladder.

He wore denim cutoffs she didn't even know he owned, as well as a ratty ringer shirt. His feet were bare. And smeared all over him was paint—so much paint, in various shades. A soft, pinky-red dotted his cheeks, and there was a slash of grassy green up his left forearm. Baby blue clotted his hairline, curling the front strands. Yellow sunlight drippings splattered his chest.

He looked like he'd been involved in some kind of technicolour explosion.

In his hand was a white-soaked paint brush. And on his face was an enormous grin.

"The JFK file?" he finished for her. "Yes, I most certainly have. Who do you think sent it through to your desk?"

But Rose barely heard him. Wide-eyed, she wandered past the threshold and into the room which now boasted three blue walls and a vibrant fourth—the wall with a window, looking out over the back courtyard where the elderly neighbour obsessively tended her autumn crocuses.

It was a rainbow he’d painted, that much was obvious. Sketched out in loose strokes, it was a marvellously vivid and yet somehow soft arc framing the window, through which the setting sun was showing off with all her might.

"I took off early today," the Doctor was saying. "Wanted to get this done before you got home. Obviously, the footage didn't keep you for as long as I'd hoped."

The sky boasted stunning swaths of violet and orange and peach. Puffy white clouds, still damp and glossy, floated in freshly-painted patches against the blue wall, mimicking the cloud banks above the sunset. The outside bleeding inward, or possibly the reverse.

Beside the window was another recognisable piece of furniture heaped in plastic: a white wicker rocking chair. She'd liked the look of it in the store, and had sat comfortably in it for over twenty minutes while her swollen ankles complained, but had ultimately deemed it too much of an expense. And unnecessary, given their comfortable sofa in the living room.

Rose stepped closer, drawn to it as if by magnets.

In an instant, she could see the completed picture. She could see the paint dried, the white curtains fluttering against the open window, and herself in the rocker with her face to the breeze, breathing in clean, green spring air. The neighbour would be puttering around her yellow rose bushes. And in Rose's arms, she'd be cradling their baby—her baby, a real and squirming life she'd brought into the world.

The image was so crisp, so perfectly vivid, that she struggled to blink it away. She resisted it, in fact, and wanted to live in that warm, pleasant moment forever.

"I know what we agreed," the Doctor was saying, his voice gentle. And a little uncertain. "But I just thought—well, we'll only have this once, you know, this first time. And just because this home is temporary doesn't mean it hasn't been important. I mean, it's where we—where…"

She turned from the window and the setting sun, arms already outstretched. Her handbag and coat fell to the floor.

The Doctor met her readily, uncaring that paint was smearing them both. He tucked her against his chest and under his chin, where she buried her nose and hid her red-rimmed eyes. She wanted to tell him it was perfect—it was just like she'd imagined, only she'd never imagined it here, and she hadn't even known she was imagining it, really. She wanted to say that she never would have wanted this particular adventure without him and his daft ideas and his smeary paint and his thoughtfulness.

But her voice was stopped in her throat.

"So… surprise?" the Doctor offered weakly.

She snorted a laugh. Swallowed thickly, trying for the right words.

And she whispered, "Good surprise."

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

more lighthearted prompts...

#i was feeling very fuzzy while i wrote this... and i was thinking a fair bit about nursery design. oops #but i hope you enjoy the fluff!!#tentoo x rose #tentoorose #meanwhile in pete's world #timepetals #dw fic #abbey writes

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