#the reason i think i have long covid though is because of the cough & my entire body feels like more shit than usual

[pa-pa-plasma]

the thing people rarely talk about is being unable to tell if you're sick or not because you already have these symptoms chronically. like yes i still have a cough, but all the other symptoms of long covid are basically normal for me

[traitor-boyfriend]

what did you think of spring break. gay stan is canon now basically right

(edit: meant to publish this a while ago and forgot because I have the short term memory of a goldfish now)

This made me realize I never gave my thoughts on the last two episodes. Will do another day. (ron howard arrested development narration: she did not.)

To answer your actual question, I -love- how often an episode plot that tangentially relates either directly or more discreetly to some kind of societal crisis of masculinity and/or gender anxiety includes Stan. obvious examples include Cissy, wherein which Stan is seemingly the only one outside of Wendy and Cartman's Shakespearean twelfth night transgender double bluff who has any semblance of actual "crisis" over the modern conception of gender identity, for seemingly no reason? We don't get a scene of him trying on a dress (*cough* chp9 of abfooc *cough*) or asking "what if I'm not a boy?" but his scenes seem to suggest or imply he is asking those questions privately with himself. Stan also shares a lot of focus in tweek and Craig -- not necessarily that homosexuality as a subject for commentary is 1:1 interchangeable with masculinity *now* but for an older generation, like those of Matt and Trey's age, it certainly is, and there really is no way to create a clear cut distinction between homosexuality and transgenderism as two separate experiences with no overlap despite efforts to on both sides of the culture war. Literally the first season of south park has Stan befriend a character named Big Gay Al and proclaim to the entire town that homosexuality is a natural and beautiful thing against the backdrop of our a-plot in which Stan laments his dog being gay b/c he isn't a 'butch' manly dog. Combine that with Stan's growing romantic disinterest in both Wendy specifically (with an episode -this- season showing just that) and girls more broadly as the show has gone on, goddamn. nevermind the subtext we can project onto on the covid specials where Stan, unwell and suffering the simulated tyranny of marriage to a woman (or, woman-figure. We are talking about a robot here.) Is only able to achieve any semblance of happiness by travelling into his own past to tell himself he needs to forgive Kyle or he will regret it every day for the rest of his life. So.

straight Stan -- 0. Gay Stan -- 1

honestly I think part of this is probably that trey parker in a lot of ways strikes me as someone very much so not a Man's Man, y'know. He's loves the shock value, paegentry, and the spectacle of flirting with cross dressing, homosexuality, and gender non-conformity in his chosen mediums in a very attuned... Dare I say, almost butlerian fashion. and also in a way that only infrequently comes across as judgemental or cruel. Though this is obviously not coming from a queer theorist framework and more just trey Parker's longstanding "if you tell me I can't do this I will just to spite you and also fuck you I can do what I want." attitude.

long story short, yeah. yeah stan's gay. throw up the banner.

[pansy-placebo]

CFS + ADHD is so weird

Trigger warning for stimulants; ADHD medication is central in this story; and other stims are briefly alluded to

If you didn't know, there's been an ADHD medication shortage in the UK (and a lot of the world) which has meant I haven't been able to get my hands on my ADHD meds AT ALL. for OVER YEAR.

And a bit over two weeks ago- out of nowhere- I found like a month's worth of ADHD medication. I'd lost it in the early days of the shortage, back when I just had to wait longer between meds, instead of never getting any. Back then it didn't matter if I misplaced a bottle here and there- even if I didn't get a refill immediately, as long as I didn't have anything too important, all I had to do was wait out the month for a new prescription.

But these days? Thanks to the Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, I couldn't even do the things I used to do to cope with the ADHD before I had medication, like going on runs, so it's been completely unregulated. After a year of being completely unable to fill out any sort of forms, make phone calls, or draft emails by myself (and lots of other crucial stuff) - finding a bottle was a miracle!

I decided to put it to good use and get done what I've needed done for so long.

After a couple of test doses to be sure if was safe, I took a regular daily dose for four days in a row. It was four blissful days of actually, really cleaning the room I've stayed in for over a year, and decorating it! And doing the dishes for my partner for once, and sorting out old clothes from my wardrobe, and finally building the courage to contact the private ADHD psychs so I could get more ADHD meds in the future.

And all the sudden I felt sick, sick enough to know taking the meds would be a waste. And all at once, I had to stop taking it for WEEKS,

because I had overworked myself to the point of becoming physically ill and contracting an ear infection. But it wasn't just an ear infection, oh no- the ear infection travelled to my sinuses, and then throat, and then lungs. During which time it travelled back to re-infect my ears after they healed twice, which gave me vertigo that prevented me from doing anything but being nauseous and sad in bed. I took multiple COVID tests because it was. just. The same as getting COVID.

Now, I'm still super phlegmy and cough a lot, but at least I can breathe without my lungs making all these... wheezy cracky bubbly noises, and the world isn't spinning which is a huge improvement.

The reason I got so sick in the first place was because pre-shortage was also pre-CFS relapse, and I've never had an overlap of both having CFS and taking adhd meds before. So of course when I took my medication and felt wayyy better for a few days, I stupidly started to think the past year of exhaustion was just me lacking my medication. and not. like. my whole ass Syndrome. And so of course going full-speed ahead as though I'm not still dealing with a chronic illness crashed my already fragile-ass immune system. My body can't handle walking for more than a few minutes some days and forces me to take naps after every activity, so naturally spending a whole day walking around cleaning was going to fuck everything up. Glass bones and paper skin ass motherfucker.

Today I got well enough to take the medication again, so I did, with the express purpose of contacting my psychs to acquire a new prescription. So I filled most of their forms, I put some laundry in the wash and did some drawing. All in all, I did about as much as I'd do on a Very Good Day with CFS

But I have learned my lesson. I won't do more than the CFS would usually let me do on a good day, and make sure to focus my attention on more sedentary tasks so I don't destroy myself by jumping in the deep end again. Even though while medicated I may feel like a Task Machine, that doesn't mean I am a Task Machine. I am a human being with a chronic disease that Feels ✨Gone✨ when I take stimulants, and if I don't start acting like it then the chronic disease will only get worse until I Totally Can Feel It even with the stimulants. I did the exact same thing with other drugs when I was a teenager, so it could happen again.

TL;DR: man with the Always Sleepy disease takes medicine that makes him feel Less Sleepy, so he stupidly thinks he was faking the Always Sleepy Disease the whole time and acts like a healthy person without the disease for a few days, which makes his Sleepy Disease into Even Sleepier Disease and he sleeps Even More for weeks after

[thesaltyace]

omfg y'all am I insane or is this healthcare professional a fucking nutjob

(Spoiler: I know she's a fucking nutjob but would deeply appreciate others chiming in because I still feel crazy 😭)

Okay, so I am still reeling from this provider interaction and feel like I'm going crazy. To sum up, she downplayed covid in general, suggested that antivirals were more dangerous than covid itself, and I believe she tried to scare me and my partner into not asking for Paxlovid at all.

Background info:

My partner and I are both mid-30s. We both have health conditions that place us in the high risk category for serious covid complications (asthma, CKD, overweight/obese, etc.).

Because we have several high risk factors, we have been super careful for the past 3+ years, and fortunately haven't caught covid at all before now (to our knowledge).

We are primarily concerned about long term damage and possible long covid. We are aware that even though omicron has lower risk of long covid, it's still around 10-14% risk. Especially considering our high risk health conditions, we want to do everything we can to prevent long covid.

We are aware that Paxlovid is an oral antiviral that received full approval a couple of months ago for high risk groups.

What happened:

My partner and I both tested positive for covid today using an at-home test, so we decided to go to the local clinic. They offered to see us together and we agreed, so we're in the same exam room.

The tech who was taking our info asked, "You tested positive with an at-home test? When?" "Yes. We took the tests about an hour ago." She seemed confused. "So why are you here?" "To…. confirm with a PCR I guess? Or to get antivirals?" She seemed annoyed and quickly left.

[Edited to add - the LVN and tech discussed between themselves, before they left the room, that the provider said a PCR wasn't necessary since we had a positive home test and symptoms.]

When the provider (CNP) came in, she started off with the same question. "Okay, so I understand that you tested positive with at-home tests. So... why are you here?" We gave her the same answer: "To get Paxlovid? ...I guess?"

She scoffed and said, "I'll prescribe you Paxlovid if that's what you want, but I don't recommend it." Well, that wasn't what we expected to hear. She explained that she doesn't recommend it because it's only authorized for emergency use and "doesn't really do as much for you as you'd like to think." She went on to explain that it interacts with "a ton of really common medications" so it can be very risky to use anyway, possibly even more risky than covid itself. My partner spoke up to say, "Yes, we saw that the only medication of mine that appears to have an interaction is amlodipine but that it isn't a contraindication." and she quickly said, "Right, but Paxlovid is just very risky if you have anything cardiovascular going on."

O…kay….

She then explained that Paxlovid isn't really for mild cases anyway, it's really just for people who are at high, high risk for severe covid symptoms and would, like, die in 24 hours without treatment. We found this odd (and in fact blatantly wrong) based on our own knowledge of Paxlovid and covid, so we didn't quite know what to say. I felt very put off and like I couldn't trust what she was telling us. It's at this point that I suspected this woman was trying to dissuade us from taking Paxlovid for… I have no idea what reason. But we live in West Texas and it's extremely red here, so… draw your own conclusion. (I did.)

She then started talking down to us (IMO) by explaining that we would still have to deal with the coughs and sniffles even if we took the antivirals. As though we were only there for a quick fix, because our little stuffy noses were so annoying. I finally spoke up and explained that we're less concerned about acute symptoms and more concerned about long-term effects and possible long covid.

This really made my blood boil. She proceeded to tell me that 1) Paxlovid won't help with preventing long covid, 2) omicron doesn't really cause long covid, that's just the original covid strain that does that, so no one is really seeing new cases of long covid, and 3) no one's getting severely sick from covid anymore anyway, and we appear to have a mild case, so I shouldn't really be concerned. You know, folks, based on my own knowledge, those are some pretty sweeping unsupported statements. So the more she talks, the more concerned I get.

She then starts telling us about how there's all sorts of adverse reactions that can happen with Paxlovid. Horrible reactions that could totally ruin your life! Worse than long covid! But no specific reactions mentioned at this point - just general "Oh, it's so bad" pearl-clutching statements. We sat silently through this -- I think wondering if this was actually happening.

Our continued silence finally caught her attention. "Oh, I know, most people don't expect to hear all this!" "Uh huh." At this point, I'm trying to not to pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. "So what are the risk factors for these reactions?" "Well, they're far-reaching effects that can ruin your health and your life! It can happen to anyone. Things like hemorrhagic stroke--" I am extremely annoyed and cut her off. "Okay, fine, but that doesn't answer my question. What are the RISK FACTORS for these reactions?" "There are none." "None? No risk factors. No correlations. For any of these reactions." "No. It affects everyone equally. Age, sex, race, doesn't matter. You aren't safe because you're young." "No specific health conditions that would put one at higher risk of these bad reactions?" "No, it affects EVERYONE the same."

^^ If y'all don't see why that kind of claim is absolute bullshit I don't know what to tell you. I'm not 100% sure, but I don't think I've ever heard of any condition/reaction that that has zero identifiable risk factors or correlations, that just somehow affects everyone equally. She pulled that out of her ass, full stop.

Anyway, we just stared at her again because what else do you say to that kind of fearmongering bullshit? She followed up with, "And this drug is only approved for emergency use, so you know, you're taking a big risk if you choose to take Paxlovid. Like, I have to confirm in our system when I send the prescription that you understand the risks. And it is a risk."

Here's the thing. I remembered seeing a couple of months ago that Paxlovid was now fully approved for high risk groups. You know, like me and my partner. She's trying to tell us that Paxlovid is somehow more dangerous than covid/the risk of developing long covid. As best I can tell based on current data, risk of developing long covid from omicron is around 10-14%. Is this woman seriously trying to tell me that Paxlovid has greater than a 10-14% chance of causing severe issues with no known correlations/risk factors, and was somehow still fully approved for high risk patients a couple of months ago? Something is seriously off here.

If I had to listen to any more of this bullshit I think I was going to lose my absolute mind and verbally rip into her. She already said she'd prescribe it if we wanted it, and I didn't want to risk that changing by pissing her off, so finally I was like, "Okay, I guess can we have a moment to discuss this together, then?" I figured we'd be able to exchange a quick, "This woman is crazy. Yes, let's ask for the Paxlovid", but she goes, "Oh, no, I'll just go ahead and submit the prescription. None of the pharmacies are open until tomorrow morning anyway, so that'll give you plenty of time to consider it. And if you decide you don't want it, just don't fill it. But if you decide you do, the prescription is already submitted."

O....kay... then...

So she leaves and soon the LVN comes in with the appointment summary printoffs. The LVN asks us if the provider discussed with us the cardiovascular risks associated with Paxlovid.

"No...? I mean, she said it can interact with blood pressure medication but that's it."

"Well, it can have some pretty nasty cardiovascular side effects. I used to work in cardio at the peak of covid and we got calls all the time about whether or not this cardio patient could take Paxlovid."

No mention about what the answer actually was for all those phone calls -- just the vague implication that it's terrifying to take Paxlovid because it might hurt your heart. Again, this just didn't match what we knew about Paxlovid, but we also aren't confident enough to call them on it ourselves.

We got out of there as quickly as we could and agreed in the car that we would look up more info online when we got home; however, our inclination was already to fill the prescription and take the Paxlovid. We tried looking up these adverse effects she warned us about. All we can find is info about medication interactions, which we already knew. We found studies stating that cardiac patients benefited more than most groups from taking Paxlovid. We found ample information suggesting, as we already knew, that with our health conditions we are absolutely recommended to take Paxlovid and that we personally have no contraindications.

It occurred to us after we got home that the provider never told my partner what to do in terms of adjusting the amlodipine while taking Paxlovid. They'll have to ask the pharmacist tomorrow and may skip the amlodepine tomorrow until they can ask their regular doctor about it on Monday. Sucks that this is happening over a weekend and the only medical professionals available will be the same folks we just saw, because they sound absolutely INSANE.

In case anyone is wondering, uh, yeah, as best I can tell, current data suggests Paxlovid helps reduce the acute illness period AND may reduce the risk of long covid. And I couldn't find a single goddamn thing about severe reactions like hemorrhagic stroke. So I don't know what the actual fuck these people were doing trying to blow smoke up our asses, but it PISSES ME THE FUCK OFF. They have done this to other people. And even if we complain, I'm sure they will be allowed to continue doing this to other people because covid deniers and downplayers are the norm here, not the outliers.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Tw// teen pregnancy scare, light mention of sex

I just need to let this out i feel so alone.

Uhm. I'm horrified. For context, I'm in high school. I have an older boyfriend and we had intercourse twice recently. He was my first. We didn't use protection, he pulled out. I'm not sure why I agreed. It's so stupid. I guess I'm just young and naive. I've been hypesexual my entire life and just needed to feel something.

I'm supposed to get my period tomorrow though it tends to be one or two days late at times. I've been sick, like a cough/virus which has nothing to do anything but now i can't figure out if my symptoms are overlapping with..early pregnancy. Because generally when i cough a lot my gag activates, I've had that problem since covid and the pandemic. So if I throw up i have no proof of what it is. I'm also supposed to be in PMS which would explain the symptoms AGAIN and my paranoia as I get really really emotional at this time. So now i have to suffer and wait out the next few days.... My bf knows and I feel bad for stressing him out. I can't tell anybody else i know irl. Obviously because I'm still at school and plus most people don't even know I'm in a relationship, including my parents. My parents think i haven't even had my first kiss and the thought of the possibility of having to break THESE news to them is terrifying.

(slight tw for a mental breakdown here)

When i was looking at early symptoms i was home alone and i had the worst breakdown I've had in over a year or ever actually. I was screaming inside my room. I stared punching my gut hoping that "it'll" just... go away somehow. I can't have this child. I do not want to. Not now. Not ever, actually. I always said I'll never have kids for so many reasons including generational trauma and my own mental issues. I feel kind of sick today but i felt even more yesterday because the night before that I was at a concert and got really tired, and slightly drunk. So many possibilities and I'm paranoid over the worst one. I feel so fucking stupid. If i find out it's true I don't think I could take it. I'd break apart completely.

hello this is the pregnancy person again. I would like to update. I realized that i cloud be having an anti-placebo (or nocebo) effect from the fear of pregnancy. Because as soon as i read that i felt better physically. And the more i read about the symptoms yesterday the more i "noticed them". Now I'm just hungry because i didn't eat lunch yet. No nausea. And then another thing happened.. I saw blood on my underwear. And now i have no idea if my period is early or if that's early pregnancy bleeding… Of fuck me here we go again. I'm losing my mind and patience…

hey, pregnancy anon here. Got my period. We're good.

Hi anon,

Please know that your concerns about what happened are absolutely valid. It's common to become very health conscious and worry when you rely on the pullout method, especially when you begin to notice signs that you may be pregnant (although it sounds like you aren't, fortunately). This experience highlights the importance of having some kind of protection or contraception during sex, at least so you can have some peace of mind.

I don't know how long you've been with this boyfriend or if either of you have been tested, but because you've had unprotected sex with him, I strongly recommend looking into getting tested for STIs. Even if you aren't showing any symptoms, some STIs can lie dormant in your system and you can also become a carrier (meaning you carry the STI and can transmit it but don't show symptoms). I know you said you're in high school so if you're 18 you may be able to book an appointment with an OBGYN yourself. If you're under 18, your school nurse may have some recommendations.

If anyone else has any comments or suggestions, feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help, and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[namig42]

I'm sick of going to doctors every other month when I get sick and being told "yeah, it's just allergies. Here's some zyrtec."

I get sick fairly often, whether it's from stress or a shitty immune system or my body trying to kill me, it is what it is. If it's not my uterus killing me once a month, it's my massive tonsils suffocating me or my sinuses giving me my third infection of the year.

Again, it is what it is. I've dealt with this for years, and it's only getting more and more infuriating with each doctor visit.

Yesterday, I was fucking bedridden with chills that wouldn't stop no matter how high the heater was or how many blankets I buried myself under, and tonsils so swollen it hurt my entire head when I swallowed or coughed. I googled what I might've had, thinking that my symptoms lined up almost note for note with pneumonia or something of the like. I couldn't breathe, I had no appetite, I couldn't sleep because my throat hurt so bad and I couldn't breathe through the phlegm filling my lungs, my body ached, and I felt so cold that it felt like there was piercing ice coursing through my veins even though I was burning to the touch, according to my partner. The only thing I didn't have was a fever (though it sure as hell felt like I did).

I went to a doctor today and told them my symptoms, and immediately, without really looking at me, they tell me, "yeah, it's bad hay fever. You'll be fine. Take steroids and some stronger allergy meds for a bit."

Wtf do you mean I'll be fine??? Why the fuck do my allergies make me feel like I have covid 19 or the fucking plague? I take allergy meds every fucking day, and yet I'm still fucking bedridden now, and all you can offer me is a bigger dose?? Something a touch stronger that my body will inevitably adapt to and reject in the next few months? How is not being able to breathe and feeling like death over simply breathing the air I'm surrounded by fine??

Can I please get a better solution than the pills that don't seem to do shit in the long run?? I would love to go more than a month without getting sick for the first time in years, or just be able to breathe without wheezing for a day, but for some reason I haven't found a medical professional that has been able to change anything. Inevitably, I find myself suffocating once every few months to the point that I think I'm dying, and yet it's always just "allergies."

I would just like to be able to exist please like a normal human who doesn't have debilitating hay fever.

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony's Stupid Daily Blog (841): Sat 6th Jul 2024

I still felt like shit today but luckily it was the site shutdown day so I got to stay in bed all day and curse God for giving me this headache / cough instead of Lawrence Fox. I had a hard time getting off to sleep last night because of this cunt of a cough. I ended up waking up at 3am and found my pillow soaking wet, not with drool but with snot meaning I can now add runny nose to my collection of hideous ailments alongside my pounding headache and this retched acid reflux cough. There was no way I was going to do anything productive today so I just stayed in bed and watched YouTube clips all day…which is pretty much what I do on days where I don't feel like shit come to think of it. I can't remember the last time I was sick so I suppose I should be grateful for the long interval since I last felt this bad. I think my last illness might have been when I got covid in early 2022 which thankfully coincided with me realising that the fraud job at TSB was awful and I didn't want to be there. I was beginning to think that when covid was inside my body it found it to be such a shithole that it put up signs saying "0 Stars" so its fellow diseases would know not to waste their time entering me and to go and infect people who would make more of an effort. I don’t know why but this evening I watched about two thousand videos about sinkholes. Presumably because I’ve watched everything else on fucking YouTube and this is the only thing left. We had a sinkhole problem in our front yard and we thought we’d sorted it but now another one has appeared right at the very bottom. I’m not convinced that the entire front garden isn’t littered with the bastards and I’m actually a bit scared to walk on the grass in case I fall into one. Having said that I am determined to travel to Japan for Wrestle Kingdom one day and getting there via sinkhole might actually be quicker, cheaper and more pleasant than via plane. I read a story that Lily Allen has joined OnlyFans to sell feet pics.I wouldn't have thought Lily Allen needed the money so I can only assume that she's doing this for artistic reasons. It does make sense that she's forayed into exposing intimate parts of her body though because her Dad used to get his cock out when audiences wouldn't laugh at his jokes which was most of the time because he couldn't write jokes because he was a shit comedian. I don't see how Lily Allen is expecting to carve out a successful career as a foot fetish model because she must be banging on there being a large community of people out there who have long suspected that she has incredibly arousing feet. The only way I would pay to see Lily Allen's feet is if she was using them to jump up and down on her talentless father's windpipe.

[oennpellmell]

Stuck in a moment

Have you ever have one of those moment, when you have known a song for years that you found nice in passing, but put no mind into it, until it finds its way back to you years later, and suddenly, you understand it so deeply it moves you to tears? Because you sadly got to experience what it was talking about, and you couldn't appreciate the message until then? And now that you have, you feel so grateful this song exists?

I never though I would ever cry to a U2 song. Not because I don't like that group. I do. I have a couple of albums from them and have been listening to their music since 2001. But their music never stroke my soul, until now because I wasn't yet ready for what they meant musically.

Usually, the music I listen to are music I can put on scenes and stories I made, that can help carry an emotional narrative. U2's songs are already so full and melodically so unique, I found difficult to use them as a story back up. They tell their own story, but they don't tell mine. And maybe that is why I couldn't appreciate them so far, because I was treating it like any other song. I applied them to a story, instead of myself. But finally, it all changed.

Those last days have been rather tough on me. The past years were in general, but the last month was peculiarly rough. However, I feel like sharing some of the relief a couple lyrics gave me today.

My health plummeted at the beginning of this year. Again. But honestly, this time gave me a fright. It started with a little cold. A simple cold and a bit of fever. But due to my second COVID last summer, my health was already fragile and my immune system weakened. So I had not much defense left against this tiny bug which, worsen, and grow like a snowball, spreading to my lungs, leaving me breathless and suffocating for weeks.

I spend a full month battling against that, trying to find a way to breath again. Every whiff of air being harder than the previous one. People don't realize how breathing is important until you struggle to get enough air in your system to function. Fearing sleeping because you do not know if you will wake up again gasping for air, your heart racing. Because your nose is sealed off, so dry, it bleeds, because you clenching your jaw and if you breath from your mouth, you will trigger a wave of coughing that will chock you up. Having to run in another room during the night to not wake up anyone, and being there alone, suffocating, unable to get anything in because your body wants desperately to expulse something that isn't there. Feeling you chest tensed, trying to calm the spasms, that you know will just hurt you more.

In those moments, you are left with no energy, except the one to think. To think of what you have become.

A shell of yourself you have dragged along for the past 4 years. A husk of a person that can't get out of bed, that get tired from simply changing cloth. That loons around, trying to find a reason to be. And wondering were your let yourself go and why you can't find it back. Despite fighting, and searching. And failing, over and over to regain a spark that will put you back on your legs.

Because the idea of standing up is overshadowed by your fear of not knowing how long it will take before you will physically collapse again. Because you realize, that drawing, reading, creating doesn't bring you any joy any more. While your entire life, it was your reason to be. And without that, you can't find enough power to fight against your own broken body.

It was you air. And now, you struggle to even do those things, you could do without thinking. Having to fight and struggle to even take in any tiny amount of it, not because you enjoy it - the feeling of peace is long gone - but because if you give up, you are as good a dead.

To come to the realization that my art was my breath but now I am fighting to get it back, just like I am fighting to get air, is heartbreaking. It is not a pleasant feeling. This suffocating distress of needing something, gathering all your will power to grasp any amount you can to give yourself a brief reprieve, only to realize you didn't get enough and have to fight for more the second it fades away.

So you lie there, taking it all in. That this has been your life for the past years. With your art, your motivation, your joy, your energy, your everything. And that it is simply manifesting in the most physical way possible.

You are stuck in a moment. Stuck in a loop for so long you don't know how to get out of it. Something you don't even wish to your worse enemy. You want to finish you project, the way you want oxygen again. But you can't because your body won't allow you to. Your heart is frozen, your mind shattered, and just like an infection, spreading, growing because it found the perfect weaken ground, it take roots and won't let go.

Then you hear a song, you haven't heard in years. In a movie you watched because you came across it in a moment of dephasing and let yourself be carried by your curiosity. You see an old lion, crippled by grief, unable to leave his house, unable to sing again, because his muse is gone, be sang to one of his songs, by a random stranger. A song about being stuck. And suddenly, the lyrics make sense to you. And make you cry.

Because the lyrics are you. They are your pain, and they are your sorrow, and they allow you you the tears you have been holding back, and the rage you tried to contain, to form and escape.

Oddly this pain, you knew was there and have acknowledged many times before without really looking at it, isn't ugly. Isn't scary. It is there with you, but it is not a monster. It is a proof of your life, of the joy long gone, and the hope that was once there.

It is not to be feared. It is to be hugged and comforted. It is not your enemy, it is your reflection. It need not to be fought, it needs to be looked at. It is the proof you are still there, feeling, and casting it aside, is casting a part of your existence.

When I was a young child, no matter how dark my life had been - and dark it was, way more than now ironically - I never felt it was too much. I refused to lose hope, and carried on, because no matter how painful it was, that pain was my only proof I was alive. Proof I existed. Even if I didn't like it, I preferred it over not being.

I though, as long as I was, I could be more, I could see more, I could learn more, I could create more. It gave me so much strength, so much power. Today, I wonder were this child has gone. Tonight, I want to be this child again.

Recently, I feared that maybe because I had no moment of peace throughout my life, I burned her all up? That this pain was her. All bruised up. Tired and crying. Telling me, I used to be stronger, I use to be smarter and braver. I used to be her. And I felt so much shame from letting her down.

But now I realize, that child had no other choice than being this way. I discarded that pain of not being able to rest, because I was simply surviving. But I never lived. I am master surviving. We all do. But growing up, I came to see that we all suck at living. Society doesn't teach us how. And doesn't allow us to. And it the adult me that needs to make that change. To teach my old self what life is.

Those tears, this rage, this cry, is this realization. The reason why I can't anymore, isn't because I run out, it is because I have to learn to go without the stress of disappearing and be no more. In reality, I don't have to prove my value to society, to any Gods, to my family and all the people that told me I wasn't enough.

I just have to be.

I just have to think: was I drawing because I want approval or because I had joy in it? Was I playing music because I was told it gave me worth or because it carried me? Was I writing because I want to show I was smart or because I want to give hope?

Am I breathing with my whole body because I am fighting off a disease, or simply because that is how naturally it goes?

And long as I am avoiding to answer to those questions, I won't budge from where I am.

There will always better days, they say. It is simply a bad moment that will pass, I heard. But the truth is, there won't be any better place to be if you stay immobile. As frustrating it is to write this. And as hopeless it may seem to be in that hole, the worst limit there can be is the one you put to your mind.

So be your own muse, be your own project, be your own music. Take a good breath... And make a step forward.

No matter where you are heading, even if it is in the dark, or in a scorching fire. It will always be better than standing still, not knowing where you could have reach and what you could have seen. There is no future to walk forward, if you don't move in your present.

As long as you can walk, there always be a ground to explore. And eventually, you will look back and realize, that road was worth taking. It may not make you reach any summit and force you leave behind places you loved and home you missed, but it still leads you somewhere.

I leads you to your life. The one you had, and the one ahead. With every pain and tears, with every laughter and despair. No road is made for you but the one you build, no path is waiting for you but the one you create. And no one can walk it for you.

No shame in standing still, no wrong is saying you are tired. No failing in voicing how hard it is and that you have reached your limit. You are allowed to take a breather, you are allow to say "nope, I am good here." As long as, it makes you happy.

Just make that yours. However, if you feel it is not your place, don't make this misery your home. Don't feel bad because you took the wrong turn. We all stumble. But we don't recover the same. So if you find a hand to help you up, grab it. If you need to crawl, use your nails. If tears comes up, let them run. If you need to step back, turn around. Every distance you can take, claim them as yours.

Every bit, every inch, fight for them, even if it painful. That bleed you losing is proof your heart beats, that scream you push is proof you have a voice, that sadness is proof you feel. Don't dismiss it, even if disturbs other. Allow them to be. Allow them out, allow them existence.

Until the bleed stops, until the scream turns into a humming, until the tears sooth out. Then you won't be crawling, you won't be fighting. You'll just be strolling. Peacefully. Feeling the wind, experiencing the rain, talking with passerby.

Breathing again like you were meant to be.

[skullamity]

just wanted to add tags by @transmascvash

I don't think I said it in my original post, so I wanna say it now, but yeah, there's nothing wrong with balding! Not morally, not in any other way!

I think, on some level, the idea of hair loss is harder for trans men to conceptualize and/or cope with than it is for cis men. If you are a cis man, and especially if you have members of your immediate family like your dad, uncles, older siblings, grandfather's, etc., who are balding, then you have at least spent a portion of your life after puberty coming to peace with the idea that, genetically, the road you might be about to go down, might involve losing your hair.

Cis women can also experience hair loss, but it seems less common, and it's not something you're going to be worrying about unless you have watched your mom or another middle aged family member struggle with it.

I spent my earlier years, from puberty to 28, thinking about the possibility of losing my hair exactly zero times ever. When I spoke to a doctor to get a referral to my endo 10 years ago, that (shitty) doctor actually immediately brought up the possibility of hair loss as a sort of set up for a gotcha to see if I recolied at the idea, and when I just shrugged and was like "ask me how many times I've shaved me had over the years. I'd rather be bald and transitioned than as I am now with a full head of hair." When I'd had my GD assessment (my request, could have gone informed consent like my wife is now doing with the same endo) and sat down to sign off on the forms where I acknowledged all of the side effects of going on T, including the possibility of a receding hairline and male patterned baldness? I signed off on it without even blinking.

Somewhere, subconsciously, I don't think I ever thought it would apply to me, because my dad has a full head of hair. Do you know who didn't have a full head of hair at 40? My late paternal grandpa, the family member who I have always looked the most like. I did not spend any time coming to terms with this possibility, until I had to, because it started happening. And frankly? Even though I fully stand by what I said to that doctor about how I'd rather be bald and transitioned than have a full head of hair and not? I was not ready at all.

There were a few months where I did not take any T shots last year. I missed a few because I had a persistent hacking cough and the last think I wanted to do was experience a coughing fit while sticking myself with a needle. And then the whole household got sick again with what was probably covid, so I didn't take more. And then I skipped another few, because I was having a bit of a dilemma.

You see, because I did not take a T shot for so long, I actually began to notice that my thinning hair was like...un-thinning, and I say on the fence for a bit wondering what I should do. I know there are plenty of people who go on T and then go off of it once they get the desired changes, but...was that something I wanted to do to keep my hair? Because while I did get the changes I wanted, going off T would mean the return of my period, fat redistribution and possibly the hair on my torso thinning back out and vanishing (that's another post for another day). It would also mean a very, very big dip in my mood, maybe forever, and that was my biggest concern.

This was what led me to that talk with my regular GP where she told me I was fine to try Rogaine, and when Rogaine did not work for me lifestyle-wise, I had to actually sit down and have that reckoning about going bald that I had no reason to have up until losing my hair became a reality.

There's nothing wrong with losing your hair, there's nothing wrong with going bald, there's nothing wrong with deciding to just let what happens happen. Bald people are people, and being bald doesn't make you ugly or bad or gross. I have never shamed someone for going bald, and I have never thought badly of bald people in general, especially not FOR being bald. But for that first little while when my hair started thinning, it was hard not to think those things about myself.

In retrospect, now that I'm 1) over it and 2) on finasteride (which might not work for me for whatever reason! grandpa's Become Bald genes may turn out to be just as powerful as his Your Back Is A Shag Rug genes were, and maybe I'll go bald anyways!), I think a lot of how horrible I initially felt about it was because of my age. I felt like I was FINALLY in the body that I was supposed to be in, and looked the way I was supposed to look, and if I had done it earlier? I would have more time with my hair. I would have got to look younger for longer. Certainly, if I'd been born a cis man, I would have gotten nearly 4 whole decades with my hair in a way that I was happy with. But as it stands, I got less than one. And that stung a little. I also would have been considering from a much earlier age that looking like grandpa meant that I was also probably going to age like grandpa, and when it finally happened it wouldn't have been so shocking.

All of this to say--there's nothing WRONG with losing your hair. If being on yet another forever medication is too much work for you, I fully support you in embracing baldness. Before I was told about finasteride, I had finally come to accept that this was my future, and I'm happy I sorted things out mentally before finding out that finasteride existed, because I think I would have been devastated all over agian if it didn't work. But now I feel like, if it doesn't? I do not care enough about not being bald to contemplate surgery or to give topical options a second chance.

Anyhow, if you have mixed feelings about hair loss and T and your options, I hope any of this is helpful! Thanks for adding those tags so ths ti could add this!

PSA for trans men and trans mascs on T who are afraid of/concerned about or experiencing male pattern baldness: Talk to your endocrinologist who monitors your T about hair loss before you talk to anyone else, you have options!

When the hair in the top of my head started to thin, I talked to my regular GP. She told me it should be fine to use Rogaine topically. There were no other options, either because she was somehow not aware OR was under the impression that alternatives might interfere with HRT. If this was the case, she did not relay this info to me, and if she had, I would have made an early appointment with my endocrinologist, who specialises in HRT for trans people specifically, and asked her about my options.

But, since I only have appointments once a year with my endo now because my levels are generally super consistent, I decided to try Rogaine. I lasted about a month, because it basically meant I had to wear a lined hat at all times to make sure I wasn't getting any on my pillow/cats/child. You need to apply it two to three times a day and leave it on your scalp for a couple of hours for the best results, every day, forever, and if you stop using it, your hair goes back to whatever it was up to before that made you concerned in the first place. I quit after a month and resigned myself to eventually going bald.

I finally had a phone appointment with my endo last week (was supposed to be in person but she had an emergency and was working remotely for the day), and when I brought this up and that I had tried Rogaine but couldn't deal with all of the above + my scalp was not reacting well to the alcohol in the foam so I quit, she was like ????? what? why didn't your GP just prescribe you finasteride???

I am now on finasteride! It is a dirt cheap, tiny ass pill. I only need to take a quarter of a pill once a day (my endo also helpfully explained to me that pill cutters exist and are also dirt cheap, so perfectly cutting a pill into quarters takes about 5 seconds and I got it for a whopping $8). Just like Rogaine, I WILL need to take it every day, forever, but it's not going to get all over my pillow and make my cats sick or cause my kid to grow a beard or whatever. It isn't going to dry my scalp out, and it also the cost comparison is a joke. I take it every morning at the same time I take my adhd meds, so it's easy to remember.

I have seen so, so many trans men and mascs online lately worried about this, probably because I've seen so many conservatives and the kind of detrans people that conservatives like to parade around put a lot of emphasis about how T will make you UGLY and make all of your hair fall out. I do feel sorry for any detrans women who are dealing with wonky hairlines or male pattern baldness, but also it sure is convenient that none of them see fit to mention that if you are experiencing those things, you can literally just talk to your endocrinologist about what your options are and then take a quarter of a pill every day to fix it. Almost like making you aware of that might move you away from their end goal, which is getting you to detransition.

[autodialog]

Looking forward to brighter days

I'm not ready to talk to you yet.

I know. I'm still patient. You're processing a lot.

I've tested positive for COVID.

I know.

For EIGHT DAYS IN A ROW.

I can see why you've been hesitant to talk to me.

EIGHT FUCKING DAYS

Now, be fair, you only tested on Saturday, Tuesday, and Saturday. You may be in a COVID loop with your wife.

That doesn't make things better. I'm never leaving this house again, am I?

There you go being a fatalist. You will, one day, leave the house again.

Really?

Maybe feet first on a stretcher.

Aren't you a barrel of laughs today.

Okay, so sarcasm isn't going to get through to you. You realize that everything is temporary, right? Nothing lasts forever.

I won't live long enough to prove that.

Nobody will, but we have it on good authority that entropy will win in the end. We can't stop it. You won't be stuck in the house forever. You know that. Is it reasonable that you're now permanently sick? Have you ever recovered from diseases?

You know I have, but not this one.

You lasted three years before you got hit. It was stupid trusting to go out unmasked after the mandate lifted. Yet you did it. You made a mistake and this is the natural consequence of it.

Yeah, that makes me feel better about this whole mess.

What it means is that you are practicing voluntary discomfort.

This is rather involuntary.

It doesn't have to be.

What?

Think about it. One of things you've cooked up is an experiment to see how well you could survive in a single room for 30 days. A bed, a computer, a bathroom, a guitar, and a place to exercise.

And books.

Yeah, yeah, books. You can't live without your library. I know. You've had this idea in your head for a long time and you solved a lot of problems, like where your meals would come from.

Only that meals would be delivered. I never really thought about laundry, either.

There are clothes that can wash in a shower. No worries there. You came up with this idea as some sort of performance art thing. You've let it play in your head multiple times. I've watched it over and over again. Well, now you're living it. Only you aren't alone. You have a wife.

She's a little frustrated, too.

As long as she's not frustrating. And even then what are you doing to make her life easier? Are you actually folding the laundry you're doing or just leaving it in the dryer? Are you cooking anything or are you letting her do all the cooking again? Are you cleaning? You are expecting a visit from family and your house is a mess. Are you ready for them to show up and get the tour?

No. I've cooked a few meals, but no, I'm not.

So you have a place to improve. You can't go out to eat, so the logical necessity is dishes will need to be done more often. In fact I think you loaded the dishwasher but didn't actually start it.

I did not.

Another place for you to improve.

What are you trying to pull here?

I'm trying to kick you in the metaphorical ass because you're being a whiny bitch and maybe some tough love is what it will take to get you to behave like a human being. You can still do almost everything you want to do. You can still play guitar. You can still write. You can still read. You can even play that stupid Minceraft game.

Minecraft.

I know what I said. You can probably even take a walk outside if you don't get near people. That would require you to wear socks, though. How are feet doing? Still swelling?

You know it.

Because you're wallowing in this misery and I'm sick of it. Get out of here and go do what you need to do. I'm going to take a bath.

You're a mental construct, a part of my head.

Or are you a part of my head? The inner child I have to shepherd to adulthood?

Hey now....

See, you're getting pissed off at being called a child. You were always angry over that, even when you were a kid.

So, I should stop being a shit about things and do what I can.

Exactly. COVID is slowing you down and giving you coughing fits and the sniffles but you've got it relatively easy. You've lost your upper range. So what? It will come back or you'll learn to sing as a proper bass.

I've got things to do.

I know you do.

[brightlotusmoon]

From Amy Wright via Facebook (corrected July 20 20)

"Chicken pox is a virus. Lots of people have had it, and probably don't think about it much once the initial illness has passed. But it stays in your body and lives there forever, and maybe when you're older, you have debilitatingly painful outbreaks of shingles. You don't just get over this virus in a few weeks, never to have another health effect. We know this because it's been around for years, and has been studied medically for years.

Herpes is also a virus. And once someone has it, it stays in your body and lives there forever, and anytime they get a little run down or stressed-out they're going to have an outbreak. Maybe every time you have a big event coming up (school pictures, job interview, big date) you're going to get a cold sore. For the rest of your life. You don't just get over it in a few weeks. We know this because it's been around for years, and been studied medically for years.

HIV is a virus. It attacks the immune system, and makes the carrier far more vulnerable to other illnesses. It has a list of symptoms and negative health impacts that goes on and on. It was decades before viable treatments were developed that allowed people to live with a reasonable quality of life. Once you have it, it lives in your body forever and there is no cure. Over time, that takes a toll on the body, putting people living with HIV at greater risk for health conditions such as cardiovascular disease, kidney disease, diabetes, bone disease, liver disease, cognitive disorders, and some types of cancer. We know this because it has been around for years, and had been studied medically for years.

Now with COVID-19, we have a novel virus that spreads rapidly and easily. The full spectrum of symptoms and health effects is only just beginning to be cataloged, much less understood.

So far the symptoms may include:

Fever

Fatigue

Coughing

Pneumonia

Chills/Trembling

Acute respiratory distress

Lung damage (potentially permanent)

Loss of taste (a neurological symptom)

Sore throat

Headaches

Difficulty breathing

Mental confusion

Diarrhea

Nausea or vomiting

Loss of appetite

Strokes have also been reported in some people who have COVID-19 (even in the relatively young)

Swollen eyes

Blood clots

Seizures

Liver damage

Kidney damage

Rash

COVID toes (weird, right?)

People testing positive for COVID-19 have been documented to be sick even after 60 days. Many people are sick for weeks, get better, and then experience a rapid and sudden flare up and get sick all over again. A man in Seattle was hospitalized for 62 days, and while well enough to be released, still has a long road of recovery ahead of him. Not to mention a $1.1 million medical bill.

Then there is MIS-C. Multisystem inflammatory syndrome in children is a condition where different body parts can become inflamed, including the heart, lungs, kidneys, brain, skin, eyes, or gastrointestinal organs. Children with MIS-C may have a fever and various symptoms, including abdominal pain, vomiting, diarrhea, neck pain, rash, bloodshot eyes, or feeling extra tired. While rare, it has caused deaths.

This disease has not been around for years. It has basically been 6 months. No one knows yet the long-term health effects, or how it may present itself years down the road for people who have been exposed. We literally *do not know* what we do not know.

For those in our society who suggest that people being cautious are cowards, for people who refuse to take even the simplest of precautions to protect themselves and those around them, I want to ask, without hyperbole and in all sincerity:

How dare you?

How dare you risk the lives of others so cavalierly. How dare you decide for others that they should welcome exposure as "getting it over with", when literally no one knows who will be the lucky "mild symptoms" case, and who may fall ill and die. Because while we know that some people are more susceptible to suffering a more serious case, we also know that 20 and 30 year olds have died, marathon runners and fitness nuts have died, children and infants have died.

How dare you behave as though you know more than medical experts, when those same experts acknowledge that there is so much we don't yet know, but with what we DO know, are smart enough to be scared of how easily this is spread, and recommend baseline precautions such as:

Frequent hand-washing

Physical distancing

Reduced social/public contact or interaction

Mask wearing

Covering your cough or sneeze

Avoiding touching your face

Sanitizing frequently touched surfaces

The more things we can all do to mitigate our risk of exposure, the better off we all are, in my opinion. Not only does it flatten the curve and allow health care providers to maintain levels of service that aren't immediately and catastrophically overwhelmed; it also reduces unnecessary suffering and deaths, and buys time for the scientific community to study the virus in order to come to a more full understanding of the breadth of its impacts in both the short and long term.

I reject the notion that it's "just a virus" and we'll all get it eventually. What a careless, lazy, heartless stance."

[the-farmers-rabbit]

Sick Season with Mason

Hi!! This is going to be like a master post for me so it will be long but it’s something I like to help with.

To start, I’m going to give background as to Why i’m qualified for what i’m talking about. I’m currently (as of december 2022) 18 years old. It’s my first year of uni and i’m living in a dorm after 18 years at home. In elementary school, my little body had a tendency to get super sick for long periods of time until I got on allergy meds. It was just seasonal stuff that turned into sinus infections and stuff like that. It would keep me home for weeks at a time which is no good for a kid. 

Flash forward to high school. Before and after covid (it hit in my junior year), I would have a tendency to get sick for months at a time. Not super sick, none of it ever warranted an ER trip or being in a hospital. But I would have a cough that would just. stick with me. for month long periods of time and it would only go away once I got antibiotics.

Now, I’m in college and it’s most of the same. I’ve realized that I might have some immunodeficiencies (my mother has a fucked up immune system but the other way around, so it’s not unlikely for me) and I’ve been out on my own for a bit now so! Here are some tips for when you get sick/how to keep from getting sick.

This covers colds, coughing, sore throats, and fevers. Really any thing that isn’t stomach bugs. So don’t come at me for not having that stuff (not that you all would, just wanting to tell y’all)

Fluids/Food 

Water. I always have a water bottle by my bed for this reason. In case i wake up with cotton mouth or just need water. it’s right there. 

Gatorade! for when i’m actually sick, i have a pack of gatorade in my dorm. it keeps my blood sugar from getting super low if i don’t have the energy to eat, it gives me something to run on, and it’s hydrating

apple juice. i use the little boxes of it cus my brain likes those, but just a juice in general is good. all this boils down to is keeping yourself hydrated. very important when sick/trying to avoid getting sick

Yogurt! If you’re on antibiotics, you need to get the good bio back. I really like the activia yogurt drinks. they’re really tasty and really good for me. Plus, if you have a sore throat, dairy coats it and makes it hurt so much less

Medications

Ibuprofen. so this one might be obvious. It isn’t a cure all! But it works wonders for a lot of things. Fevers, aches, sore throats. It will reduce a fever, and i always keep some by my bed for that reason

-Fevers; if you don’t take care of them quick, you could have serious issues. I mean it. Your brain is overheating. You won’t be able to think straight and you will feel awful. keep stuff that will break them near by just in case.

-Signs of a fever!: Cold, but the room isn’t cold, sweaty even though you’re freezing, shaky, foggy head. and when in doubt, take your temperature. 

Vitamins. I don’t like the pill vitamins. They’re big and icky. So, I take gummy vitamins. Yes i’m an adult, I take gummy vitamins. So? I use the brand Smarty Pants. I get them at target. They’re not icky, they’re fairly cheap, and they’re good. They have childrens and adults. get ‘em

Sleep aids. Olly Sleep Gummies are what I use. When I’m sick and just. can’t relax? Melatonin gummies. Olly is good because it’s not Just melatonin, it’s also some other junk. They also don’t taste that bad.

Self Care/Comfort

Sleep. Just like the sleep aids, when you’re sick or getting sick, sleep is so very important. Weighted blankets are a great help. If you’re coughing a lot, prop yourself up so you don’t have a coughing fit in the middle of the night. Cold compress for fevers, and fans to keep you comfy. Sleep is the best cure, and be sure you get it

Showering. I don’t care if you prefer baths. If you are sick and it is in your sinuses, take a shower. sit down (if it’s not too grody wherever you are) and just let the hot water hit you. The steam loosens mucus and you can dislodge it a lot easier

Humidifier!!!! PLEASE MAN. It’s a life saver. I got mine at target. It was like $30 and takes up about 1.5 cubic feet. If i have a stuffy nose or a sore throat or both, i turn that on, go to sleep, and wake up with neither. it is a god send. 

Brush your teeth. I know you feel gross. But go and brush your teeth. And if you can’t, floss and use mouth wash. Do something that cleans the gunk in your mouth. You will feel better after, I promise

Heating pads. Mine was 15 bucks at kroger. I use it every damn day. On my lap, as a blanket, on my shoulders, back, tummy. Any and everything. Heat relaxes the muscles, and warmth is also nice. I’d recommend one that has an auto turn off so you can sleep with it. But if not, just get one.

Gem Face Roller. Ok. let me explain. I don’t use this for skin care. I use it for headaches. it’s cold (and if it’s quartz, it will just. be cold. on it’s own), i can put light pressure on what hurts. I can use it on sore necks too.

Lanolin. It’s meant for nursing mothers for chapped nipples but it’s so good for chapped lips. And when you’re sick, that usually happens and you usually need help with it. So, lanolin. Also at target

Icepack. Either like a bag, or a gel. Don’t get one of the hard ones that are meant for food. Get one that is Made for the body. For when you’re overheating, or you’re achey or. whatever. Ice. Helps

thermometer!!! So you can see if you have a fever or not! I keep mine on hand and it gives me peace of mind. Got it at walgreens when i stopped to get my ice pack. Like 15 bucks, again. Keep yourself from worrying too much

ok so that’s probably it for now but i hope it helps! I’ll add on if I think of something, love you guys, good luck out there

[crowdedimagines]

Spill It - Harry Styles

an// i literally love the spill your guts concept, but hopefully this is a new take on it! also, this is not going to be chronologically correct to real life, that’s the fun of fiction! also in a world without covid

“I will never understand how you continue to convince people to do this.” I sigh, taking in the table in front of me.

“Let’s take a look at what Y/n here is so fond of.” James teases before giving the table a good spin, showing off all of its contents, “To start we’ve got salmon smoothie, beef tongue, bird saliva, scorpion, fish head, hot sauce, bull penis, and finally, the water beetle. I think you’re both familiar with the rules of this game.”

“I’m sure.” Niall smiles, turning his head towards mine and I nod in agreement.

Niall and I go way back, having been friends for years. We met back in 2013 when I opened for One Direction’s tour. I quickly become close with all of them. One more so than the others. Harry. He and I just clicked, everyone knew it. It took months for us to start dating, afraid that we would ruin the good thing we had, but neither of us wanted to wait anymore. You can’t pass up a connection like that.

“Niall, I will ask you the first question.” James announces, “We’ll go with the salmon smoothie.”

“Oh god.” He mutters.

James lets out a loud laugh and covers his face in shock over the question. He turns it to me so I can catch a glimpse before he reads it out-loud and my jaw drops.

“You might as well drink now, not even hear the question.” I tease, leaning across the table.

“Niall, who is your least favorite member of One Direction?”

Niall’s head drops in defeat, even though he was sure going into this a question like this would be brought up. He just wishes it could’ve been on something a little easier to choke down.

“Drink up, babe.” I smile, a teasing smile crossing my face.

“Fuck.” He shakes his head.

“I can’t… “ He reaches for the glass and throws it back, it takes a few seconds for the sludge to finally shift and he can get a mouthful. A sour look takes over his face as soon as it reaches his taste buds. He quickly leans down to spit it in the bucket.

“That’s horrendous.” He coughs, “It was like a salmon yogurt.”

“Alright Niall, your turn to ask Y/n.”

I smile politely to my friend of many years who takes on a sinister look once he’s read the question.

“Please be nice.” I stick out my bottom lip.

“Right right.” He laughs, spinning the table as he takes in his options.

“Don’t forget I have a very good memory, especially of the years spent on a shared tour bus…” I chaff.

“Don’t remind me.” He settles on the hot sauce, thankfully one of the lesser evil options. I would take this over anything else on the table.

I did crash on their bus more than my own. It started because they were fun, barely older than me, but then when Harry and I started dating we became. Even sharing a bunk as uncomfortable as it was most nights. Those boys grew up with me, and I’m thankful to still be in good contact with all of them.

“You recently welcomed your third god-child into the world when Zayn Malik and Gigi Hadid welcomed their daughter to the world.”

“Yes, I did.” I smile at the cheering audience. I have managed to do the impossible in staying close with all of the boys since the hiatus. Well, all but one. Gigi and I met years ago, and I introduced the pair at an award show. The other boys had their reason for making me god mother, but it did give me this monopoly on all of the One Direction children. 

“You are actually the god-mother to all three of the One Direction children. Who’s your favorite?”

My jaw drops at the question. Who had the audacity to ask that? To think I could ever answer that about any of my little nieces and nephews. The audience cheers in shock over the question as well.

“You’re joking.” I scoff, “They’re children, I could never pick a favorite!”

“How about your least favorite then?” James teases.

“You lot are all horrendous!”

I grab the shot glass and down the hot sauce immediately. I love all of them way too much to ever pick. I’m sure it’s exactly what they expected with a question like that. It burns for a few seconds and I put the glass back and try to shake it off.

“Nice one!” Niall cheers.

“Now James-” I clear my throat, the hot sauce catching up with me, “Name one guest that you would never invite back to the show.” I bite back a smile and fan my face with the card.  

James looks up into the camera as if he actually wants to answer.

“C’mon, you can do it! Just for once.” I grin like a little kid in a candy store, I want him to answer. I want to know, and it would be nice to finally get him to reveal an answer like this.

“Are you trying to get this show canceled?” He turns to one of the producers off screen. He looks between them and the water beetle I’ve placed in front of him. He gives his head one last shake before throwing it down the hatch.

“Niall, it’s your last night on Earth, you can either spend it with your ex girlfriend Ellie Goulding or Selena Gomez?”

He goes back and forth, trying to be polite with his answer before eventually picking Ellie.

“Y/n, who is your favorite member of One Direction?” Niall asks, the smirk growing wider with every word he utters.

The crowd roars, knowing very well of my relationship from a few years ago. One that people still brought up regularly in both Harry and my life due to us remaining friendly. 

“What is up with you guys wanting to know my favorites?” I roll my eyes, “Give me something I can actually answer.”

“Fine! I’ll ask you one!” Niall grins, an evil and family glint in his eyes appearing, “What songs have you written about Harry?”

A red hue takes over my face again, only this time it’s not from the hot sauce.

“Either that, or the bird saliva.” He grins, showing off a wide smile. If only we weren’t on national television and I could smack it off.

“It smells like wet dog.” I sigh, I pick it up giving it a whiff before setting it back down on the table, “Could I name one song?”

Niall and James exchange a look before the nod accepting it. 

“I wrote the song Everything about him.” I smile. It shouldn’t exactly be a surprise to most people, there were clues. Both of our fans were smart enough to catch on and read between the lines. It was a song I released almost two years ago, the album following our breakup.

It was a powerful song, it quickly became one of the favorites of my fans. It’s also one of the few that I don’t perform. I can’t think of a time I’ve sung that song without crying, it wasn’t meant for the stage. It was meant to be played in your bedroom while you stare at your ceiling. People have always understood that. 

“It’s a lovely song.” Niall smiles knowingly.

“Thank you.” I smile, I move on and reach out to ask James his question.

“James, you have been blessed to have both Niall and I on for carpool karaoke.” I smile at Niall, “Which one did you enjoy more?”

I can’t fight off the laughter that takes over. As if it isn’t hard enough to answer questions like these, it’s only upped the ante by having us both here.

“You’re kidding.” He dabs away the sweat on his forehead.

“It’s okay, Niall won’t be that offended.” I reassure and stick out my tongue at Niall.

“You’re an arse.” Niall laughs with the roll of his eyes.

In the middle of Niall and I acting like children bickering, James tears off a bite of the cows tongue without another word.

“Oh god.” I turn away from the unpleasant sight.

“That’s rank.” Niall huffs.

Niall answers his next question from James again, successfully getting away without eating anything.

“Y/n, if the past four years you have gotten into acting. You have made quite a name for yourself on the big screen as well as on the stage.” Niall begins.

“I don’t like where this is going.” I laugh.

“Rank your co-stars from your past films best to worst; Dylan O’Brian, Logan Lerman, and John Boyega.” Niall smacks his knee with a laugh.

“I have been blessed to work with so many talented actors” I start, picking up the terrifying looking bug that has been placed in front of me.

“Mhm.” James agrees with an evil smile on his face.

“So talented, that I could never rank them.” I throw back the scorpion before I can second guess myself. I manage to chew enough of it for it to count before spitting it out as gracefully as I can.

That’s a wrap after that, enough time getting juicy content out of us quite literally either spilling or filling our guts. I give Niall a hug before going back to my dressing room. I couldn’t be more thankful to share the couch tonight with a long time friend.

I drive home, eager to go home and relax. The episode won’t air until later tonight which gives me a couple hours of peace from Twitter. I take a bath and make myself some dinner, before eventually climbing into bed and turning on the TV to watch the episode.

It’s good, fun to watch back. Niall and I make a good pair, easy to read the friendship on camera. In time the episode ends and I turn off the TV and decide to go to bed. It’s been a long day full of press. Before I can actually drift off my phone lighting up and vibrating on my nightstand grabs my attention.

You are my everything too. xx

PART TWO??????

[rebel666]

Confessions of  a Joann Employee

UPDATE: If you want to send more confessions and/or report what’s happening at your Joann anonymously, there’s EmployeeJoann on Twitter that is responding to messages. They are constantly sharing and updating more as it becomes available to them!

A confession from a Joann employee that is in one of the Covid-19 effected areas and has so much to say about it:

-We are staying open until told by the state otherwise. Even though they declared a State of Emergency and all non-essential businesses must be shut down by 5pm on Saturday 3/21, our company is refusing to. Because Joann themselves is trying to deem Joann as an "essential" store. They even put it all over their website that we are here for the people making masks and small businesses who need fabric to continue. They quote that we are here for the customers and that we as United States Americans have a responsibility to fill this need. They aren’t looking at curbside only as an option, they aren’t looking at offering more benefits for shopping online, they want us open and people in stores. They are sending us emails with pieces of paper (unofficial, not state made) to print out and put in our cars to say we are on the way to work at an "essential retailer." Anything to make it so we can remain open.

-This sucks for employees and here’s why: The way Joann is set up is if we get sick, if we have to leave to take care of someone who is sick, if we want to self-quarantine (because of our health or the health of our loved ones), we either quit or ask to be put on Leave of Absence and cannot return without medical clearance. If we come into contact with someone who has Covid-19 (even if they came into the store), they request we stay home while the rest of us have to work even if we were standing right next to them. As long as we don’t display symptoms, we are expected to show up or we can request LoA. LoA does not pay us. The only way we as employees will be taken care of is if the store closes AND if we have two weeks of schedules set up. I was hoping the company was on the path to this when they had us cancel all the classes until May and then limited hours but all that went out the window today. Right now Joann is doing everything to prevent us from closing and in turn take care of their employees. Every single time I bring up our well-being, I get reminded that we need to think about the customer first.

-Our store is step up to have daily conference calls to talk about the current status and to express any concerns we have. I brought up the status about my county (our major has declared everyone be shut down as of 5pm tomorrow or the police will be involved) and that I am deeply concerned for us and they told me that we have a responsibility as a leader to keep everyone calm and to keep working through this. ***When I asked what if everyone in my store requests a Leave of Absence because we are all very much concerned about our health, they said, "We will replace you with team members from other stores. There are service industry people and travel workers looking for jobs and we will fill your positions with people who will work it."*** They straight up told me that we are replaceable/expendable because they value their "customers/money." It doesn’t matter how long we’ve been with the company. It all means nothing to them.

-They are sending out emails about what Joann is doing as a whole for Covid-19. Saying we are cleaning every hour and whatnot. What they fail to mention is we are a fabric store with no means of washing fabric. I see people on a daily basis cough into, wipe their snot on, kids place in their mouth, and all sorts of other nasty things into these bolts of fabric (seriously, wash the fabric you buy from Joann before doing anything). We have the basic cleaning supplies to wash floors and wipe counters with but that’s pretty much it. They are telling us as employees to bring in our own supplies if we can. An employee brought in gloves long ago just so we can use them to clean the bathrooms. Today I provided face masks for my fellow coworkers. Our store may look clean but we know its dirty little secrets.

-We are supposed to follow the whole 10 people rule but they do nothing to stop or limit people at the door and won’t do anything to enforce it. All while wanting us to cut hours to which is barely 2 people running the whole store for smaller Joann locations. It’s not safe for us to be on a bare-bones crew especially if they want us to remain an essential store.

-Joann before this was a great place to work. At least for my store. I love my store, I love the people I work with. Other stores I have heard horror stories from but mine was one of the good ones. I see them being bombarded on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram to close. Not just by employees and families of employees but by concerned customers. And this pleases me because they need to take this seriously. What they do in the next 3 days will speak volumes on how much they listen to and care about us. This is a serious issue and we as employees are suffering.

As they report more, I will continue to add to this.

UPDATE 3/21: They emailed and made copies of this for employees to carry with them in their cars:

Now the CEO of Joann is also a piece of work. All you have to do is google his name and you’ll see the Walgreen’s lawsuit, his DUIs (yes, plural), and his impact on Joann since joining - which includes increasing prices because of the tariffs. One employee confirms that when tariff thing went into effect, the entire store was repriced. Some markups were a few cents but some were a few dollars. Since then the prices continue to fluctuate.

There is also a petition going on Change.org asking for Joann to Close Their Stores And Pay Employees

If you get a chance, read some of the comments people are putting in support of this:

I no longer feel safe in my workplace. The greed is sickening.

My employees deserve to be treated like people and make a livable wage and have benefits! Our health over their profit!

Staff at my local store have been asked to bring in their own gloves for cleaning. Hand sanitizer expired in 2012. Employees are reporting little to know cleaning supplies in a store that targets the elderly as a primary demographic. The material used in the masks is not medical grade. This company is shamelessly profiteering from the pandemic.

As a former employee and manager I know the company does not follow any real cleaning guidelines. They understaff their stores, overwork their employees and frown upon time off. Fabrics and crafts are not essential items at this time and since the majority of the clientele there are elderly i think they are creating more risk. Finally do something good for your employees and send gem home with pay

As a previous manager, I'm sad to say that this company does not value its workers. To see that they are putting their workers, and others who visit, at a continued risk is unbelievable and is extremely selfish. Now is the time to act and stop the spread of COVID-19 and to keep Joann's open does not help stop the spread in anyway shape or form.

Over the last two days, my local store decided to carry on with inventory. They brought in an inventory team from the area of our state with the vast majority of cases. It's one thing to not close and continue to expose the public to the risk, but decisions like these show that Jo-Anns has a blatant disregard for the wellbeing of its employees and customers. Even more telling is the fact that we know that you are seeing our pleas to do the right thing, but continue to ignore us on social media. There is only one reason that you are pushing to categorize Jo-Anns as an essential business, and that is greed. In fact, I had to spend my own money on gas to drive all over the city looking for more cleaning supplies after my manager ordered me to. Your employees do so much for you, and we are compensated very little. I have been at Jo-Anns long enough to know that you would never compensate us for our time off, but at least join the other non-essential business and shut down for the time being.

joann’s customer base is primarily elderly or otherwise at risk people, and many employees are also older or immunocompromised. employees are overwhelmed as we can’t keep up with the cleaning guidelines while also taking care of customers, not to mention we’re severely lacking in cleaning supplies in the first place. joann is encouraging people to come in for supplies to make face masks, yet these masks aren’t sterile since people touch and breathe on the fabric all day, and it’s then laid on the counter to be measured and cut. employees themselves aren’t even allowed to wear masks or gloves. joann cares more about profit than the safety of both their team members and customers.

There are so many comments I want to share. These are just a few. This is Joann. They care more about their image and their financial gains than the backbone of their stores. The people who put up with their ridiculous requests day in and day out are now at risk and putting others at risk. Places like Hot Topic closed down and took care of their employees, places like Joanns should too!

But also lets not forget, Hobby Lobby is also not taking Covid-19 seriously.

UPDATE 3/22: “We have signs saying we're cleaning more but found out Friday that we're out of supplies in the distribution center. They claim they will send them out once they receive any but I found out today from a truck driver the company that supplies everything for Joann (from inventory to store use items) is closed for 2 weeks... because of this they're telling us to use the bathroom cleaner as a substitute.”

From Joann Employee Confessions on Twitter:

Confession 17 - Our Joann was closed! We received a C&D from the Chief of Police! We were so ecstatic as employees when they came in and told us to cease all business operations! Not even curbside! BUT then we had to tell our District Manager... and everything changed.

Our DM told us to come back to work tomorrow because he was going to have Joann's lawyers work on it. My heart sank. Them being open was more important. So I went into work and it was so nice not being open to the public. We finally caught up on recovery and cleaning! All things we have neglected the past week because it's been too busy for us to keep up! All of us were in great spirits and it was the best day ever. Until our DM called... and he told us to section off all the "non-essential" parts of the store.

Fabric and sewing notions were deemed essential and we would be open to the public the next day. No curbside only. Nope. People were to come right back in and nothing about limitations. Nothing about cleaning our disgusting fabric. Just to section off half the store so the public could come in and buy all the fabric and sewing supplies they could want. And to add to that... they are doing a remnant promotion where all the spare pieces are free to the customer now! Another thing for our already spare crew to do when we don't have time!

I am honestly so shattered over how the Chief of Police who seemed so interested in our well-being backed out of this. We are exposed once again. 3 of us tonight took Leave of Absence papers tonight because we don't feel safe. This was the final nail in the coffin.

UPDATE - My coworker messaged me, “Got up at 10:00 to get ready for work. A text came in saying the store is closed and I don't have to come to work. Seems there was a conference call. It appears the state is involved and overrode the mayor!” But Joann is still fighting it. This is a day by day thing. They are telling us if we want hours we have to go to another store. If not, we have to put in our leave of absence. 

More articles coming through right now: 

These Retailers Refused To Close During The Pandemic, So An Illinois City Shut Them Down

Joann Fabrics' mask-making promotion raises questions

Gregory said the masks were being donated to Rush Oak Park Hospital in Oak Park and to Northwestern Medicine Delnor Hospital in Geneva – but spokespeople for both those hospitals said it was not true.“Due to infection control measures, Northwestern Medicine cannot accept donations of handmade masks, gowns and other medical supplies,” according to an email from Kimberly Waterman, spokeswoman for Northwestern Medicine Delnor. “Only factory-made, hospital-quality supplies, including N95 masks, face shields, gloves, gowns, sanitizers and swabs can be donated.”

“There is no barrier,” White said. “Once [handmade cloth masks] get wet, I don’t think they’re that effective.” (I can confirm. A RN confirmed with me that cloth masks collect moisture which acts as a magnet for infections.)

[marvelyhp]

Still you | chapter II

Chapter II: The comeback

Synopsis: Y/n decides to help the Avengers despite their betrayal two years prior and her life makes a big shift once again.

Pairing: Y/n x Bucky Barnes and some Y/n x Sam Wilson

Word count: 5,997

warnings: cussing, some fluff

note: I know I took so long but I had writer's block. then, I got covid and I felt too awful to write. But I'm okay now so this is what I could come up with. Not my greatest stuff. the tag list is open :)

Side note: I would really appreciate hearing from you and your thoughts!

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

We managed to lower two floors without raising suspicion or making too much noise. At least, James and I were pretty silent, whispering if needed. But of course, Stark always had to open his damn mouth. He had been talking all the way —pretty loudly too— and he just did it again.

“Where’s the grandpa with the bad luck of having you as a tenant?” The man didn’t know the meaning of whispering. Or maybe he did. He just wanted to make my life more complex than it was. I looked frantically behind me, praying he had not seen me sneaking out. At the sight of no one, a breath of relief exploded out of me. But it didn’t last long, irritation quickly dampening my already poor mood.

“Shut the hell up!” I hissed. My patience with the insufferable man wearing thin.

“Oh, relax. If he sees us, we’ll knock him out and blame you.” He mocked, a chuckle erupting throughout the hall and following the stairlike a draft of wind. My blood started to boil inside my veins and I felt the heat spread from head to toes. I was afraid to be reaching my tipping point already because this was nothing. Two years out of practice left me hypersensitive to his shit. I wondered how long I would be able to stand the insufferable mortal and regret hit me like a ton of bricks.

“He is a good man, Stark. We will not knock him out.” I whispered as I pressed myself against the wall. Twisting my head around the corner at the end of the hall, I sneaked a glance at the stairs and the visible space from the top. “Watch your step here. His room is right underneath the stairs. We don’t want to wake him up.

I walked forward, pressing my foot in the first step, praying the creak of the old wood would keep quiet today as it did some nights. At least that’s what I hoped but it wasn’t what happened. A groan broke the silence in the room and I knew that if he was awake, he definitely heard it. I waited a couple of seconds, alert to any noise. When nothing came, I advanced four more steps. I focused on the one shadow dancing in the wall and relief swept through me. He wasn’t awake.

I turned, thinking the guys were still up. However, I let out a gasp when Bucky’s face came into view, mere inches away from mine. Thanks to the startle, the foot I had dangerously close to the edge slipped.

My heart stopped as I thought about the fall and the inevitable bone-crushing pain that would come after it. The stairs were pretty high and even though they were wood, it was quite sharp. Splinters roamed everywhere. I waited for the pain and the strenuous sound. It was phenomenal, the first time I saw the team in two years and I would meet them in a body bag with a broken neck.

However, it never came.

When I opened my eyes, blue electric eyes stared back at me. Our faces were inches away from each other. A hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against him to hold me from falling. I was hyper-aware of our breaths clashing against each other, making the most sinful of sounds. Our lips were separated by a small space, too close for my brain to catch up quickly. I noticed how his lips roamed my face, stopping at my lips slightly parted by the surprise. His eyes held a fervent fire and my breath quickened once I felt the inevitable rush of warmth roaring my body.

Coughing slightly, I took a step backward, stepping out of his grasp. I forgot all about the landlord as I scolded myself. The man looked at me and there I was getting flushed like a raging hormonal teenager. I looked at everything but Bucky’s face, why I knew still had his eyes on me except now his jaw was firmly set. I wanted to ask him what was going on inside his head but a hovering shadow at the top of the stairs captured my attention.

“What are you still doing up there?'' The man looked utterly confused standing at the top of the stairs surrounded by darkness. I wondered if it had to do with what he just witnessed.

“You care about that grandpa, don’t you?” His expression was one of disbelief. His body wasn’t moving as if in shock or trying to process the information he thought was correct. And it was, but he didn’t have to know.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, unaffected.

“Of course you do. You care about the landlord.”

I whirled around as fast as I could with the incident earlier present in my head as a gruff voice filled the room. A short, stubby old man stood at the foot of the stair dressed in a white t-shirt and some basketball shorts. The ends of his hair stood up as if held by a string and maneuvered by a child. His narrowed black eyes stared back at us. His lips pressed in a thin line.

“Of course, she does, kid. Why shouldn't she?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. I followed the movement of the milk dancing in the glass on his right hand. I felt proud of the English I had taught him and how-- as much as I didn't want this to happen-- useful it would be. I looked back at Stark to find him gaping like a fish. Little croaks came from his throat but no coherent words came from him. It was the first time I had seen Stark speechless. “I’m an incredible landlord if I say so myself.”

He was.

I cursed inwardly. There were things I didn't want everyone to know. To a certain extent, I wasn’t ready for the team, for Stark, to find out that I wasn’t the monster he expected me to be. I wasn’t ready for him to look at me differently. Andrei had the power to change our whole dynamic.

It wasn’t that Andrei and I shared anything about life. Or at least I didn’t. Andrei liked to talk, to share his life with me, and try to make me talk. He said I was too reserved. I remember that day like it was yesterday.

It had been a warm evening. I could see the sun filtering through the windows. Shining onto the top of the show top and illuminating the cottage-like bakery. The dough in my hands stuck to my skin, lumps of a uniformed cream mass suffocating the fingers. The powdered white dust sat beside me and I felt irritated. I hadn’t thought about pouring it on the mixture before I touched it. ‘I was out of my element here’ I thought as I reached for the flour.

Andrei’s baker had abruptly called five minutes before work notifying him he couldn’t work his shift. His grandmother had fallen down the stairs and fractured her hip, hence his lack of concern for Andrei. He was the only living relative she had so it fell upon him to look after her. One missed shift would turn into dozens. The bakery was small and hidden in a remote part of Romania. The clientèle was not much besides those living in the small town from years ago, or even since they were born.

Everyone in town knew each other. When I arrived I had my doubts about staying in this place because of that same reason. I would be the talk for weeks and I couldn’t risk so many people questioning my presence. Except, I was lucky.

One evening, I sat in a small and dark corner of a bar near the outskirts of the town where it was most probable to see an outsider. Two men sat a couple of feet away from me, talking fairly loudly. Out of boredom and desire to know the people I might have been seeing every day, I heard and studied their moments. Taking notes about their behaviors and storing them far into the file I had on humanity. Their voices were cheery as they ate pastries that I was sure to not be from the small bar.

“This is so good! I can’t believe I haven't tasted a pastry this good since I left,” he moaned loudly in reaction to the puff on his hand. The crumbly dessert spilling powdered sugar all over his dark gray pants. “Andrei hasn’t lost his touch.”

“Who is this Andrei you talk so highly of?” The older male asked the seemingly young partner. The man wore an expensive suit, not one that could be found here and from what I gathered from their conversation, he had not grown up here. But his friend did. What he said next grabbed my attention the most.

“His bakery is pretty hidden in the town. Someone that didn’t know the road would not find him. He used to be a criminal, on the run and all that. But since he got out of prison he became a baker. the man sure has a gift. I don’t even know why he went to jail, because the man is a sweetheart. I think he was just dealt a bad hand.” The man kept munching on his pastry as he talked. The vowels all merging to create a soundless blob. I swore he said more but that was all I could understand and by the face of his friend, he understood less.

“It’s such a small town. Why was it never known?”

“I don’t know. Rumor has it that he was born here but left, something to do with his family. He came back years later, on the run from some people. People we assumed to be the police. Of course, the police followed his trail and eventually found him here. Two years later. He hid pretty well if, you asked me. He treats people with respect but he never talks about himself. He has always been reserved when it comes to his life, only telling small details that lead to nothing. You know, not enough to form a life picture…”

Before he finished talking, I was out of my seat, walking towards the pair. I plastered an innocent look on my face, one I had studied and perfected many times since coming to earth. I relaxed my posture, knowing I had been tense and tucked since I entered this town. I still can’t believe I was social before. Nobody would believe that if I told them now.

“Hey, those pastries look marvelous!” I said in a cheery voice when I reached the pair. Both of their heads whipped towards my direction, curiosity written in their faces. I could hear the questions in their head about me and where I came from and what I looked for in town. Typical gossiping mortals. I wanted to cut the tie between our heads, feeling bad about corrupting the men’s thoughts. But I couldn’t, not until I had what I wanted. “Do you know where could I find them?”

“Sure thing. What’s your name, sweet thing?” Sweet thing, that’s funny. If he had been into the American news he would not say that.

“Calypso. Do you know where the place is? Can you explain it to me?” I said, trying to hide the hurry in my voice. His thoughts were front seat in my mind, not wanting to miss a thing.

“So eager.” He chuckled. Instead of the route, I was expecting, he thought about my naked form and countless sexual images began replaying. I resisted the urge to impale his backside, taking a deep breath and counting to ten. I played his game. I battered my eyelashes and looked at him from hooded eyes. I bit my lip gently and walked closer. Sneaking a glance at his friend, I noticed he was no longer looking at us. He seemed uncomfortable and had turned to his coffee and pastries. I wish I had a coffee to turn to.

“Maybe you could take me there. If you remember the way, of course.” He smirked and grabbed the jacket slung over the wooden chair he sat on. His friend looked at us, startled as if he wasn’t expecting my response. However, the joy of his friend would be short-lived. Images of the way to the small bakery filled my head and I smirked. Before he could take my hand to guide me to his car I asked for the restroom.

As soon as I came in, my eyes searched for some window I could use to leave unnoticed. And I found it in the corner of the bathroom beside one of the huge black and white mirrors. I locked the door and hurried to open the window, sliding through the door. The darkness of the night didn’t face me but my alert was high. Everybody could hide in the dark. My heart rocked against my chest as I saw the same guy from early waiting beside his car. I hurried along the alleyway, pulling my hood up and hiding my hair, disappearing into the dark.

“Calypso, boy for you.” I was brought from my memories by the rough voice of Andrei. Whoever didn’t spend much time with him would think he was mad all the time thanks to his voice and forever furrowed white bushy eyebrows. I matched the furrowing of his eyebrows when he mentioned a boy. I had been careful enough to not get attached or get anyone attached to myself so the mention of another human being besides Andrei spooked me.

Suddenly, the thought of agents looking for me or the usual threats I had filled me with panic. I heard the thunderous beat of my heart. The tremble of my hands disrupted the beautiful form of the pastry in my hands. quickly cleaning and taking away the apron full of white dust, I walked to the front of the door.

A dark-haired man in his early twenties stood next to the door with a blue box in his hands. A white shimmering ribbon adorned the delicate box, wrapping silkily around it to form a well-done bow. The chiseled bone structure of his profile caught my breath as he looked to the small, underpopulated plaza in the corner of the rondure. The curvature of his roman nose and the thin shape of his lips sticking in his profile.

I saw him regularly at the small bakery. His usual was a Papanaşia with a black strong coffee. He left three dollars on the tip jar three times a week and I noticed if he was overly happy, he would leave a fiver regardless of the day or how many days he had tipped. I had seen him mad twice in the store. Seemingly, he was one of those guys that harbored every trouble inside in a chaotic turmoil. I knew because I had invaded his mind one of those times. Curiosity had gotten the best of me, knowing he was always the type of guy that carried the sun on his shoulder. Every time he caught my attention, I tried to remind myself that he could’ve been an agent sent by Hydra to kill me or worse, kidnap me.

“Hello. What can I help you with?” I said, confidence laced in my voice. The confidence I did not expect to have. His head whipped towards me. A smile broke on his face at the sight of me. I saw the fidgeting of the box in his hands and the sudden bobbing of his knee. He didn’t appear to be harboring any secrets, or at least not deadly ones.

“Hey. I know this will probably look very weird to you but I’ve been watch- I mean not watching but I just- I,” His stammering caused a giggle to leave my lips involuntarily. My hand immediately flew to my lips, hiding the smile corrupting my face. He lowered his face but not before giving me one of those smiles that could light up a world. God, I felt sappy. He looked at me once again. “I don’t know how to do this. I definitely didn’t think it through.” He chuckled. One of his hands came up to brush his face while shaking it, side to side. I could tell he was nervous, maybe more that I initially had been.

Seeing him stammer was the cutest thing I had seen since the little green and purple flowers that grew back home and surrounded our palace. So, I decided to help him a bit. “You could start with your name,” I said, trying to not smile too much. Agent, agent, agent…

“God, you probably should’ve done that first. Nice one.” He said, more to himself than for me to hear it. “I’m Razvan. It's lovely to finally meet you.” I shook his hand. It was rough yet soft with elongated fingers caressing my own small and thin one.

“Calypso.”

“What I meant to say, you know, before I shot myself in the foot was that you caught my eye since I first saw you. Now, I swear I'm not stalking you because it could be easy to think after the horrible introduction I just did. But, yeah, I would like to get to know you, if that’s okay with you.”

I did think about it. I swear I did. I thought about how he could be linked to Hydra and if you searched on the deepest paranoid corner, the Avengers. I thought he could’ve been just a random murderer whose floor I had shaken. My voice of reason said no. and with the saddest feeling settling my stomach, I told him what I thought. Or tried to.

“I’m sorry, I-I can’t. You seem like the loveliest person b-but I…” For some reason, I couldn’t just say no. “Can I think about this?” That was the only thing that came out of my mouth while I tried to get the words ‘go away and ‘don’t speak to me’ out of my mouth. His smile faded a bit, but even then he tried to keep his positivity and bright personality on. I could feel the waves of disappointment once I started speaking but hope soon came flooding back.

“Sure. I'm a complete stranger coming here every day just to see you. I can see how that’s alarming. take your time.” He shook his head as if realizing what he had just said. He chuckled and I tried to give him a small smile. Before I could turn away and leave, I felt him touch my elbow. I jumped back.

His brows furrowed quickly. “Forgive me. This is for you. And please accept it.” I thought about refusing but this would only prolong this meeting, pushing me to accept a company I wasn't ready for. I took the small box, my hand already trying to open the shimmering blue box. “No, please. Open it later, more calmly and everything and you can tell me whenever you’re ready if you like it.” I gave him a smile, which he returned brightly before diving back inside the back of the store.

Once inside, I undid the delicate ribbon, watching it dissolve like seafoam by the lovely blue water. The glistening gold chain with a tiny, colorful Koi fish rested in the center of the box. My heart swelled and I felt a way I hadn’t felt since Bucky. He remembered what I had told him that first, and the only time we had talked before today.

The voice of Andrei brought me out of my stupor with a jump. A hand traveled to grasp my heart while the other held the box tightly.

“Razvan is nice guy.” His voice was gruff and deep like it had been since I had met him. He walked behind me and grabbed a pack of flour to dump beside me. I looked towards the other and realized I was running out of it.

“Do you know him?”

“Yes. Comes every day for two years. Great boy.”

When I didn’t say anything, he stopped cutting open the pack of flour and turned to look at me. “You too reserved. Not want to end like Andrei alone. Give guy chance.” That was all he said before he left. A tall wrinkly woman with short red hair calling out for him.

The last thing I thought that day after he left drove me to the same road he had set me on. I didn’t want to end alone or die alone for that matter. But what was I to do if everyone thought I was a selfish monster who just wanted to kill and bring chaos? The only person who didn’t feel that particular way was the same man I was leaving without saying goodbye.

Stark seemed to have gathered his words together because he suddenly began spewing some shit on Andrei. shit, he didn’t like it.

“The girl is no selfish girl. Only a fool like yourself would think so. Only a blind man would propose such a thing.” His brows were furrowed but Otherwise, he was calmly standing at the bottom of the stairs sipping his milk. He seemed like he would continue but I made sure to stop him

“Andrei, no.”

“I see. She holds you hostage and controls you, doesn’t she?” Stark countered, a smirk settling in his features. I pinched my nose, sighing loudly.

“You have to leave with this buffoon?” I walked down to his side, muttering an annoyed yes. “I’m sadder for you than him.” A chuckle escaped him as he hugged my shoulders with one arm. I tried to push him away but found no will to do so. I would miss Andrei. He felt like the father I never had. Worry settled in my stomach knowing I had been here and I would no longer be if anything happened to him. I hugged him back, despite my better judgment and the four pairs of eyes staring back at me.

“Don’t forget about me, violet. Nor dear Razvan.’ He told me after letting me go. I nodded before calling back to my two companions. Stark came down, slowly walked to the front door. Bucky at his heels. They both turned. Bucky’s face had some sort of emotion I couldn't decipher. I thought I could, but I doubt he would feel happy about finding someone genuine to spend my days with.

Stark, on the other hand, looked at Andrei as if he had grown an extra head.

“I’m confused. Aren’t you supposed to be dying at her touch or something? Are you sure she didn’t threaten you to act this way?” The funny thing was, he sounded genuinely confused. The skepticism in his voice hurt my feelings but the mere fact it was stark made me forget quickly. He was an insensitive prick with a personal vendetta.

“Take this fool away before I turn him into a human pastry,” Andrei commented. I walked towards them, chuckling. “Ai grijă, violet aprins.” Take care, fiery violet. The elder said before we shut the door behind us. my heart swelled at his words. I knew I would long for those quiet evenings where it would rain and we would sit down in the living room with a book, quietly enjoying our presence. We laughed and made new and invented pastries in the kitchen for days, always looking for new and innovative flavors. I would miss the man that had treated me like his daughter.

“Take care, Pop.” I whispered to myself. Not thinking a long-haired blue-eyed soldier would hear.

And just like that, we disappeared quietly into the night and I said goodbye to one of the most important people in my life.

James let me know they came in the Quinjet, that enormous thing I had refused to sit on two years ago. the walk was not far from where we were and we found it in a while.

The Quinjet was hidden behind one of the buildings next to the bakery. the gigantic thing sleeping while we arrived to climb up. clint stood outside, his arms crossed. that man always looked like he was in a power pose.

“Romania? What is it with chased people and Romania?” Confusion and genuine interest were written all over his face.

Barton had always been a friend before I knew the truth. Nat told me she had told him in a drunken stupor. he tried to talk to her about telling me but she didn’t listen. I didn’t hold it against him because I knew he wasn’t actively participating but he didn’t do anything either.

I shrugged. “It’s a good hiding place. too many criminals organizations for you to matter. nobody cares who the hell you are as long as you keep quiet.”

“Good shadow place.” Bucky added as he tried to help me get in the Quinjet. I ignored his hand, focusing on Clint’s face.

“Exactly.” My response was clipped. if he was fishing for a normal conversation he was in for a treat.

After a while, we took off. My legs became restless as I sat in front of Stark and Bucky while Clint piloted the flying thing. boredom pushed me to get up from my seat and walk towards the front of the Quinjet. that, and Straks glare along with the awkwardness of Bucky’s movements.

Clint’s focused face came into view as I sat beside him. silence engulfed the both of us before he broke the silence with some words I didn’t expect.

“We missed you.” it was a quiet remark but full of shocking force. I just sat there, wide-eyed looking towards the already clearing sky. I looked towards him and forced myself to respond. a scoff came out of me, causing Clint to look rapidly towards me.

“You have no reason to believe me, but it’s the truth. Nat was pretty shaken up when you left. we looked for you everywhere and decided you didn’t want to be found. that you needed some time. it took you longer than we thought.”

“You didn’t find me because you didn’t look. You don’t have to lie to me, Barton.” I said, masking the hurt I felt with anger. why keep lying to me? I knew they didn’t care sop they didn’t need to act as they did.

“What? we did loo-” He never finished his sentence since Stark’s voice boomed around the small space. he came to let us know where would land soon as if we didn’t know already. Clint was the pilot, it was impossible for us to not know. suspicion arose in my chest but I soon forgot it when I saw the massive compound below us.

✹✹✹ I would be lying if I said my stomach wasn’t fluttering and my hands trembled slightly. I subtly rubbed my hands in my jeans, hoping to get some moisture away. But, there was something else bothering me. It had been there for a little while. The emptiness in my chest divided in two, as though… I don’t even know. The doors slid with a swift sound and my heart rate hit new floors.

I tried to avoid showing any emotion I felt. Seeing them surrounding the long table, all in their daily clothing made it hard to remember. I couldn’t show the happiness of seeing them all right after two years. Nor could I show the excitement deep in my bones seeing Wanda’s face. I couldn’t forget the damage (situation) those high-held beings made to my heart.

I looked at them with a mask of indifference firmly placed.

Wanda was the first to step forwards, as I knew she would. I didn’t expect her to but a part of me screamed how she had been the only real friend through the year I spent in this cage. I resisted the urge to hug her, touch her, and receive the reassurance I so deeply wanted.

“I thought- we thought you were dead.” The revelation shocked me. It felt as though they couldn’t believe I was alive. But I was. The question was… why did they think so?

“Nop. Still kicking.” I replied.

“Unfortunately.” I heard Stark mutter under his breath. I rolled my eyes and resisted the urge to kick him. I could make him feel a true kick in his brain. And his ass, too.

“Y/n!” A high-pitched voice came from the corner next to me. The smiley face of Pepper Potts came rushing towards me, engulfing me in a hug. My nerve endings shot and I prayed my instinctive responses wouldn’t go through. Fortunately for me, they didn’t. Before I could even think to hold her back—which I wouldn’t have done anyway— she stepped back. Smile intact and a gleam in her eyes capable of illuminating the whole room.

“Jesus. You’ve changed so much!” Her hands settled on my shoulder, holding softly and slightly shaking my shocked frame. “I missed you.” Her vice took a sweet edge and her head lolled to the side. Her eyes scrutinized me with the look of a mother who had just seen her child after a hard year abroad. I resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably out of her grasp. I wasn’t used to this.

“Honey, leave the feral alien alone.” Tony’s voice reached my ears. “We have important matters to discuss.”

“God, Tony. Give us a break. We haven’t seen the kid in two years.” Natasha’s ______ filled the room as I saw her taking steps towards me. I noticed there were no relaxed steps but tense and wary. Her eyes held a sort of apology mixed with caution.

I just stared. Deep inside I didn’t know how to react to someone I hadn’t seen in a long time, someone who betrayed me gets closer. Her body language told me she was sorry but still cautious of my reaction but I didn’t know if I should forgive her. Her right hand stretched towards my frame. I shifted uncomfortably in place, moving slightly away from her.

I saw her eyes roam my body, noticing the discomfort. She came to a halt three feet away from me. Her lips were pursed as she let her head drop for a second. She recovered quickly, extending her same hand towards me, this time to shake my hand.

“It’s good to have you back, Y/n.”

I took her hand in mine, shaking firmly. I nodded my head towards her. My lips pursed. The movement of Wanda’s body caught my eye. She stepped closer to me, her hands nervously trembling beside her big, red jumper.

“Can I hug you?” Hearing those words coming out of her froze the ongoing flow of blood through my veins. I was shocked, to say the least. I bet I looked like a gaping fish as an incomprehensible string of detached words escaped my lips. Everyone else seemed as surprised as I was. For completely different reasons I would bet. As Stark had said, they thought I was a free being.

She waited patiently, probably aware of the shock and ongoing battle I had inside me. She was the only one aware of my thoughts about showing anything besides contempt. And she knew why. But I sent it all to hell and for once, I did what I wanted to do. I nodded.

Her smile was worth enough as she moved quickly towards me, as though worried I would change my opinion. Her thin arms wrapped around my neck, my lack of height apparent as my 5’1 ass reached her shoulders. I resisted the urge to cry as I wrapped my arms around her back, relishing in a familiar face that didn’t hate my only existence.

“I missed you.” It was a whisper, only for me to hear. A small smile escaped my lips as hope blossomed in my chest. Hope that maybe I wasn’t a lost cause. Hope that maybe someday I could have a family.

“I did too, Red.” I murmured back. Careful to not raise my voice as I didn’t want anyone to know anything. I felt oddly vulnerable to be hugging someone let alone hugging someone in front of seven people. I noticed Vision staring and I gave him a subtle nod, a small smile creeping upon my lips. He nodded back with that usual blank expression not in compass with the feelings he harbored. After some time, I let her go before Stark had another remark to make.

I noticed Steve leaning against a far-away table, maybe ten feet away from where I was. His head lowered, eyes on the ground. His arms surrounded his build, hugging himself with a heavy frown on his face. He didn’t want to look towards me and I thought I knew why. He was ashamed of what he did. He was guilty anyway you looked at it. He was guided by Bucky to do everything. He followed the man despite knowing it was wrong. Not because your friend tells you to throw yourself out the window means you’ll do it. He knew full well what was wrong and right. He knew Barnes' proposal was as low as a man could get.

If he didn’t apologize and acknowledge what he did, he was dead to me. I mean, he had tried to apologize that day, but I was devastated and no words came through my anger.

There were a few handshakes and subtle nods here and there before I noticed a presence missing. I looked around for the usual big man with an overinflated sense of heroism but didn’t find him. He was big enough for anyone to spot him. I felt a pang in my chest and a tingle at the back of my head and I knew something was wrong. The air shifted and my hands started trembling slightly.

“Where’s my brother?” I asked, my voice slightly shaky. I tried to compose myself, knowing he had to be alright or I would’ve felt something.

“We don’t know. We couldn’t get a hold of him.” Natasha replied. I noticed the subtle worry etched in her face lines.

Suddenly, I understood that emptiness inside me. That swirling emotion unlatched to an earthy body. One of the connectors inside of me, besides bucky’s, was empty. It didn’t have any energy to connect to.

No.

No.

No.

I didn’t realize I began hyperventilating while the word repeated itself over and over in my head. My chest rose and fell quickly while the air got caught in my throat. My hand shot out to grasp anything in reach I could hold myself up with.

“Y/n?! What’s wrong?” Wanda was the first to step forward and grab my elbow. Her soft touch didn't completely register in my sensory sense. The only thing in my mind was the heavy colorless fog swirling around in my insides.

The worst part was, I didn’t know which of my brothers it belonged to. I thought about them and how long it had been since I had seen them. Since I had been with them.

“Can you all excuse me?” I pulled myself together and without waiting for a response, I hurried across the room. I thought about the me that they just saw but somewhere deep down, I didn’t care.

I hurried, passing Steve's body. This time, he looked intently at me. I didn’t expect him to stand up and grab my shoulders. By this point, my vision was blurry and I tried hard to reconnect with the missing life essence.

“Y/n, I-”

“Can we do this later, Rogers?” I spat, cutting him off before getting my elbow out of his grasp. I left, shuddering and feeling a wave of anger rising in my chest.

What a good way to make a comeback.

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[agentwhiskeypussyindulgence]

Whiskey Kisses (Agent Whiskey x plus sized Reader)

Authors Note: Hello!!!! If this looks familiar it’s because it is! This was written in the middle of my covid sickness back in January and I have not touched it since lmao. I figure it might be better to edit it a bit, and post it all as one rather than two separate entities since the second part was only separate bc I hadn’t written it yet at the time I posted the first one. I’m hoping that I’ve gone through and removed any glaring descriptors that will exclude folks but the one thing that remains is that this is a plus sized reader (gotta leave a little bit of me in there lmao!) This was/still is my first attempt at smut so I'm hoping I've read enough to get somewhat of a grasp on it ✌ Plot is the same, wildly incredibly self indulgent, Whiskey is as charming as ever and hopefully the new post will get some fresh eyes on it! Hope everyone enjoys~~

Word count: ~7000

Warnings: NSFW 18+ fem plus sized reader (a bit of body insecurity that is Very Brief), Daddy Kink, Loss of Virginity (including insecurity about being a virgin), Praise Kink, no y/n used, excessive use of pet names bc Whiskey is a menace,If I’ve missed anything please don’t hesitate to let me know!

The place smelt like smoke. That was first scent that hit you as you moved through the crowdto the bar, claiming a seat on the side nearest to the exit. This was your first time out and about in your new city and you weren’t exactly sure what you were here for. At the least you would get a good night of entertainment from people watching from your position at the bar. Maybe you would make a friend. That’s how it worked for people your age right?

It had been so long since you had to put yourself out into social situations that weren’t engineered to create bonds--this wasn’t school and it wasn’t work, the two places where you felt confident about your social skills. You feared you might be a little behind on friend making procedures. This was only your second week in town. You’ve moved from home because you knew you couldn’t stand one more day in your hometown. Moving back after college had been a great way to save up money, but you were tired of living with your parents and tired of the same small town views. It hurt leaving your folks and it hurt to leave your friends even more. But you knew that sooner rather than later they would be moving out into the world. That’s what was expected and you were terrified but immensely excited to be the first one in your group to make the leap.

Now you’ve found yourself here alone in a bar nursing some sugary drink that had been listed in chalk on the special board outside the bar. You didn’t mind being alone. In the past you’d learned to enjoy your own company —going thrifting on your own or heading to see a movie when everyone else was busy. That being said, you found being alone in a bar a much more harrowing experience. You didn’t usually spend much time alone in places where the drunken masses gathered. Parties, clubs, and bars weren’t usually your scene and let alone without your group of friends there as backup.

You were out to be social yet still hoped that your phone would serve as a good enough reason for no one to come up and ask for a dance. Sure, there were some attractive people in the bar tonight, but you were only on your first drink and didn’t have enough in your system to get yourself out on the dancefloor with someone you didn’t know. Not yet at least.

Your attention was pulled from your phone by a movement in your periphery, a silhouette passing behind you. It was a…cowboy?

That wasn’t who you were expecting to see. This wasn’t a country bar by any means and he stood out amongst the other patrons in their casual clothes. He kept a respectful distance leaving a seat between the one he chose and yours as if to not block you in. You stared, taking in his outfit, he seemed like the real deal. Cowboy boots with spurs, well-fitting denim jeans, and a Stetson seated on top of dark hair. Only thing out of place was his shirt. You weren’t a hundred percent sure what kind of shirts cowboys wore, but you weren’t betting on a nicely pressed dress shirt.

He looked young upon first glance, then you noticed the smile lines around the corner of his eyes and mouth. That and the way he carried himself, his essence, revealed that he probably had some years on you though that didn’t lessen the attraction any. He turned suddenly and you couldn’t look away; embarrassed as you were to be caught staring. Not when those gorgeous brown eyes met with yours. He raised a hand to the brim of his hat and honest to god tipped it in your direction with a smile and a quiet “Evenin” on his lips.

You cleared your throat and cradled your glass in your hands, fingers working to twist and turn it. “Evening…didn’t expect to see a cowboy in here tonight.” You take a small sip. “Doesn’t really seem like your scene” you finish, looking around at the crowd, all dressed differently but certainly no cowboys among them.

The stranger lets out a laugh and a smile lights up his face as the bartender works his way to your side of the bar. “Maybe not darlin but this cowboy is home anywhere he can find a beautiful lady and a whiskey, neat.” He says this last part to the bartender who you find standing in front of the two of you. He gives a nod at the cowboy and glances over at you and you notice your drink is almost empty. “Put this sweet thing’s next drink on my tab” he says with a wink in your direction and you can’t help but feel heat flood your face. This is the first time you’ve ever been bought a drink by a stranger at a bar.

You realize the bartender is waiting patiently on you and you panic. You had wanted to switch drinks after finishing this one off, tired of the sugar, worried over the hangover it might bring. “Oh! Uhm, whiskey neat also. Thank you.”

The stranger sitting close to you raises his eyebrows at your order, his eyes glancing between your own and the remnants of your sugary cocktail. You smile and give him a shrug “Buyers choice I suppose.”

He lets out a chuckle and holds his hand out across the empty seat between you. “Jack Daniels. Nice to meet you.” You give him your hand and your name and you watch as his eyes trail over you.

He smiles, as if he’s seen something he likes once his eyes have finished their exploration. You can’t blame him as you had just done the same thing. But you couldn’t help but be a little puzzled. You hadn’t really dressed with the goal of attracting attention to yourself tonight. You chose your favorite pair of light-wash jeans (you were told they hugged your curves nicely) and a band t-shirt with a light flannel on top. It was comfortable and you looked nice, but you hadn’t dressed to impress.

The drinks arrive and Jack raises his glass in the air and tips it in your direction. You hurriedly grip yours and do the same, smiling at the clink of meeting glasses.

The whiskey stings your lips, chapped from your habit of nervously biting at the soft skin in new situations. You don’t often drink whiskey and you attempt to school your face into something neutral, trying not to cough, as the smoky alcohol burns its way down your throat. A burn that you find yourself enjoying mere moments after it passes. You over at Jack who doesn’t avert his eyes when you catch him staring at you, an amused expression on his face. If he noticed your brief grimace that came with your first sip of the whiskey, he was a true gentleman and kept it to himself.

“Is Jack Daniels really your name?” Taking him in with an incredulous look. Who the hell is named after a whiskey brand? Or who uses it as a fake name and then orders it at the bar? Sighing with a smile, he nods. “It was a name before a brand, sugar. Plus, now all my friends can call me Whiskey. You can too if you’d prefer.” He finishes with a wink.

Setting his glass down he doesn’t give you time to react beyond your surprised stare. “So. What’s a beauty like you doing all alone, stuck here talking to an old man like me?” You let out a laugh and look at him incredulously. Confirmation that he was older but you wouldn’t have thought to call him an old man. He’s really laying on the charm thick though. You can’t say you’re mad at it.

“I’m new to town.” You reply. “Figured after a week of unpacking and organizing I deserved a night out on.” He gives a grin. “I don’t know about the other fellas in this joint, but I for one love an independent woman.” Grinning you take another sip from your glass, the burn still there but less aggressive. “Well we all have to learn to be independent one way or another right?”

Humming in agreement he meets your eyes with a smile and doesn’t look away. Cheeks continuing to burn away, you give a smile back. This much undivided attention on you is new territory. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t reveling in it.

“So what do you do when you’re not out wooing the ladies at the bar? You a real cowboy?” You ask, giving him another once over. As a general piece of knowledge from living in a town with some farming areas you knew that genuine Stetsons and real leather boots didn’t come without a hefty price tag. And he certainly didn’t look cheap.

“I’m an agent for a secret independent intelligence agency.” He says this with no hesitation or humor in his voice. Simply a flat reply. You raise your brow at him and snort into your glass. “And now that you’ve told me you’ll have to kill me right?” Jack takes your joke in stride “I don’t think I would ever deny the world a beauty like yours by killing ya darlin”

He swirls his whiskey in his glass as you blush. “Really though I work on the board for Statesmen Distillery. We’re based in Kentucky.” You smile with a nod, taking another sip from your glass “Well that certainly explains- well just about everything about you. How’d you find yourself here then? Need a vacation?”

This line of questioning leads you and Jack chatting back and forth about nothing and everything. He asks about your family, the move, how you found yourself moving from your hometown all by your lonesome. He tells you about his job, the boring meetings, how he really enjoys spending time on his ranch, watching the sunset. (He pulls out his phone at one point, showing you a picture of a calf that you can’t help but coo at, directing baby noises at the phone in his hand. He seems endeared by this.)

You had always had a hard time talking to people you didn’t know, keeping to your same group of friends because of this reason. With Jack though you didn’t feel any lulls in the conversations, no awkward silences. You couldn’t remember the last time it had been so easy to have a conversation with someone.

As the two of you finish off your second round of whiskeys, a slow country song begins to play from the speakers. Most of the crowd looks confused at the shift in vibes from the DJ booth. The DJ in question points towards the corner where you and Jack have been sitting and winks; odd to pander to the one cowboy in the crowd. You’re not going to complain though, and it seems, neither is Jack. “Tennessee Whiskey. Just like my namesake.”

He hums in appreciation before he stands, holding a hand out to you. “Would you like to dance darlin?” You’ve never been much for slow dancing, but you knew you’d be kicking yourself with regret if you said no. You place your hand in his as he leads you out onto the dancefloor. The music swirls around the two of you and you feel your nerves spike, hoping your hands aren’t sweaty, that you don’t step on his feet and praying to whatever god is out there that you can keep the rhythm. But as he gently tugs you closer into his embrace you feel any apprehension disappearing you’re your mind.

You find yourself looking up at him, dark and beautiful brown eyes meeting yours. You take a risk and lean your head against his shoulder as you sway, taking in a deep inhale of his scent. It’s beautiful, not too strong. You can smell the whiskey on his breath and you wonder what cologne he uses. It’s something oaky and fresh and the combination is enough to intoxicate you even further.

“Sugar…” the pet name comes out as a whisper from above.“I’d be doing myself a disservice if I didn’t ask if I could kiss ya right now.” You pull back looking up into those eyes that you could get lost in. He’s leaned in close to you now, his breath dancing across your lips. You part them to respond and you knew you would be doing yourself a disservice if you didn’t say yes.

Wordlessly you nod and can’t help the sigh that escapes you as he tilts his head and his lips meet yours.

It’s not your first kiss, but you can count all the previous ones on a singular hand. He’s gentle, his hawkish nose that you’ve found yourself enamored with brushes softly against your cheek as your lips dance together. You hum in contentment, bringing your arms up and around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip and it may sound juvenile but you hadn’t had much experience with tongue kissing. You part your lips anyways, following intuition, allowing his tongue access. The sensation is foreign but not unwelcome and you can’t help moaning, and his hold on your waist tightens as you’re pulled even closer against him. You spend a few moments in the middle of the dance floor in his embrace, tongues dancing together and thoroughly getting lost in him.

He pulls back for a moment and you’re thankful he made the decision because you hadn’t even noticed the fact that you still needed air. You cringe at the whimper you let out as your lips detach, you hate at how pathetic you sound, hate that you instinctually go to chase them. It doesn’t seem like Jack cares though, he’s gazing down at you, bringing up a hand to rest on the side of your face, a thumb coming to sweep across your bottom lip before swooping down for a second kiss. This one is much more brief. “How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy?” he murmurs against your lips.

You freeze up at his question knowing exactly what he’s asking. Your eyes going wide as you try to stammer out excuses that won’t reveal your true hesitation. This particular insecurity doesn’t come up a lot but you’re never sure how to breach the topic of your virginity whenever scenarios like this pop up.

Jack pulls back, a concerned look growing on his face at your muttering. “I’m sorry if I overstepped, doll. It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable. We don’t have to do anything other than sit around here all night. I’d enjoy any time spent with you.” His eyes met yours and they were so kind and soft and you felt your heart melt a little at his crooked smile. You had just met him but you made up your mind to tell him the truth so he wouldn’t walk away from the night feeling terrible.

You always make up something else and run before you can embarrass yourself further. Your younger years are supposed to be your “prime” and you know in your mind that it’s completely normal for you to still be a virgin. That being said you have always felt like it was some kind of barrier blocking you from ever truly being comfortable with romantic entanglements.

You sigh as another song picks up. You’re both still holding onto each other and swaying to the beat and you open your mouth to give this man some peace. “Jack I… listen you’re incredibly attractive and I love a cowboy, I really do. And you didn’t make me uncomfortable! I just-” you chew on your lip again, thinking if there was a better way to say this before deciding on just getting it over with so you can stop wasting his time.

“I’ve never…been with anyone like that before and I as much as I wanna save a horse and ride a cowboy, I know a lot of people don’t want the virgin burden on them so I completely understand if you want to find someone else for the night so you’re not wasting your time.” It comes out rushed and in one breath, you’re avoiding his eyes not wanting to see the disappointment that might radiate from them. When you finally looked up, he was still staring at you with those gentle eyes, it was too much for you and you cast your eyes back down.

In an instant you found his hand gently holding your chin, lifting your gaze to meet him once more. “Hey. Look at me. You ain’t got anything to be embarrassed about darlin’. And you’re certainly not a waste of my time. Far from it. Ain’t nothing wrong with being inexperienced.” His eyes crinkle with a smile directed at you and you grin back feeling relief wash over you. This is honestly the best one of these conversations.

“Now listen,” he continues “if you just wanna dance and drink the night away, I’m thrilled to get to know you more.” You nod waiting for the ‘but’ you knew was coming. “But if this is something you want to try and I’m the fella you wanna try it with, well then-” He leans down, voice dropping and breath dancing along your ear “-daddy will take care of you.”

He studies you then, gauging your reaction at his phrasing. He knew it was a bold move but hoped that it would pay off. And lucky for both of you it does. Your eyes widen and you let out a short gasp as you bite at your bottom lip. The term he used sent a spark of arousal directly through you and in that moment you know that Jack is exactly who you need to come home with you tonight.

You give Jack a nod and he caresses your face with his large calloused hand. “I need to hear you say it, sugar.” And fuck it if that doesn’t get you feeling all warm inside. “Y-yeah” it comes out shaky not purely from nerves but also through the adrenaline you can feel coursing through your body. “Take me home Jack.” He practically beams at you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips and tugging you back over to the bar so he can pay the tab. You didn’t walk in here expecting to leave with someone tonight but you’re the furthest thing from disappointed as the two of you rush out the doors.

--

You both make your way through the bar's exit and you find yourself standing in front of a vintage Ford Bronco, Whiskey holding the passenger door open for you. You smile and slide into the seat. “Such a gentleman. But you know, this isn’t the car I was expecting a fancy distillery man to own. But it does feel quite fitting.” You muse as he takes his own seat and starts the engine, the radio on low crackling to life. “It’s my pride and joy” he hums, gently patting the dash. “Anything could happen to me as long as my baby here is safe.”

You laugh at the man’s love for his car until the chuckle is cut off by Jack’s hand coming to rest on your leg. His touch is gentle, and he drags his palm up from your knee to your upper thigh and back down again. He glances at you from his periphery “This alright darlin?” You nod as he resumes his movements, tracing inscrutable patterns with his fingers whenever his hand pauses in its path.

You feel the telltale heat of arousal begin to pool in your stomach. You’re not unused to that. The new and exhilarating part of the scenario tonight is that you have someone else to take care of it. Someone other than your hands and your well-used vibrator. You’re thankful that the drive back from the bar to your apartment is short. If it was any longer than the ten minutes it took you might actually explode.

Jack pulls up and you direct him to park in the spot next to your own car. One that looks far worse than you usually find it when compared to the well taken care of Bronco next to it. Jack, continuing to be the gentleman he’s been all night, opens your door for you once more, grabbing your hand as you sling your purse over your shoulder and make your way towards the front door. The elevator ride up to the 5th floor is rife with palpable tension and you almost melt at the gentle circles Jack makes with his thumb on the back of your hand as it sits entwined with his.

The moment the two of you cross the threshold of your doorway you expect everything to begin at once, all passion and clashing lips. You find yourself surprised when you’re not immediately pressed against the door and ravaged like in the movies, and you see Jack take in your living room.

Luckily everything had gotten sorted in your first week and the only thing to indicate a new occupant were the stack of boxes in the corner that you needed to take to the recycling bin behind the building.

His eyes trail along your bookshelf, scanning the titles bookended by little trinkets and tiny figurines you had gathered from gifts and mall vending machines. He admires the paintings on your wall, all excellent purchases from the local Goodwill you thought.

You shift from foot to foot not entirely knowing how to start things off. This is your first time and Jack is the one showing you the ropes so you hover next to your couch as he finishes his scan of the room, turning to you with a soft smile. “You’ve made this place feel homey already, sugar. I love it.” You beam back at him happy to explain your interior design choices but in a moment he’s taking two large strides in your direction. “Now, mind if we pick up where we left off in the bar?” He brushes his knuckles gently across your cheek as he waits for your response and in an instant you’re already reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck once more.

It’s cliché and you know it but when his lips connect with yours once more you feel fireworks. An explosion of arousal deep in the pit of your stomach as you grant his tongue entrance. The kiss isn’t rough but it is passionate. You had always had the inkling that you would find a tongue in your mouth invasive and gross and you are thrilled to learn that isn’t true. Or maybe it’s just because of the man you’re with. Jack seems like the type of guy who can make anything feel good and you can’t wait to see what he has to offer you.

Detaching his lips from yours you find yourself unintentionally pouting. He laughs at his before leaning down to latch his lips onto your neck and the pout disappears as a moan rips through your body as he begins to suck and bite up your neck. Jack is savoring every moment he spends kissing you, you can feel the restraint lurking behind every kiss. You can feel your legs turn into jelly and you’re grateful for the hands around your waist and the couch back behind you for all the support you certainly need right now.

As Jack soothes a bite with his tongue he moves his hands from your waist and places them under your ass instead. He tugs you forward, your balance unstable without the couch behind you. You feel his muscles get to work and suddenly you’re off the ground letting out a startled gasp. “Don’t worry, sugar. Daddy’s got ya.” Instinct kicks in and you’re wrapping your legs around his middle, groaning at the contact between your clothed core and his waist. You hadn’t realized how desperate you were for some friction until now and it hits you like a freight train. Dropping your head against Jack’s shoulder you hear his laugh from above you. “Hmm, someone’s impatient ain’t she?”

Lightheadedness consumes you, astonishment at his strength combined with his teasing giving you an incredible heady feeling. “Jack please…” you rub circles into the nape of his neck and you feel his breath huff into your hair as he groans in response to your begging.

Wasting no time he carries you to your bedroom and gently sets you down on the bed. He stands above you as you stare up with wide eyes. He kneels in front of you at the edge of your bed and reaches a hand up to begin to slip the flannel from your shoulders. The gentle touch of his hands sends a shiver up your spine, even through the layer of clothing.

Soon your shirt is off and he’s tracing lazy patterns on the swell of your breasts. He gently palms your boobs through the lacy fabric of your bra and drags a thumb across the raised material where your nipples are hardening underneath. You’re not sure how much longer you can handle the touches, gentle and tantalizing and just enough to leave you wanting more. You move your arms up and back to unclasp your bra, throwing off the side of the bed to be dealt with in the morning.

Jack’s eyes are trained on your breasts now, even more so than before. There’s a hunger there, a desire that you’re not used to seeing directed at you. He leans forward and cups one breast with his hand and secures his mouth over your peaked nipple. You groan in pleasure and press your chest further into him, despite there being not much more space to fill.

He drags his tongue across your nipple before sucking, repeating the process every few seconds. You’re pleasantly shocked at the little nibbles that are peppered across your chest once he’s had his fill of licking. You move your hand down to gently grip at the back of his head, pressing him closer. “Daddy please, keep doing that it’s so good!” He eases his mouth off, a pleased smile on his face. “Anything you want sweetness.” And promptly moves to the opposite breast, continuing his work.

Soon you’re left panting and hungry for his same talented touch in a much more sensitive place. You tell him as much through panting breaths and he wastes no time to start shimmying your pants and underwear off with your help. He stands for a moment, beginning to remove his own clothes, a pile of his country wear being left in the corner of your room. You admire his broad shoulders, the hair on his chest, slim waist with just a hint of a belly that you’d love to kiss. You follow his happy trail down eyeing the prominent bulge in his jeans begging to be freed.

As you lay on the bed spread before him, you’re overcome with the urge to curl up into a ball to cover yourself. You wouldn’t say that you’re unhappy with your body. You love your curves and your tummy. No you’re not insecure…not entirely.

Jack is a handsome man and you’re lying here wondering if this is what he wants to see. You curse yourself for letting your insecurities try and ruin your night with this handsome man who clearly wants what you want. You fold inwards on yourself only slightly, bringing your legs closed and positioning yourself more on your side than on your back.

Jack finally back at you from where he’s been stripping and glances over at you with a furrowed brow, noticing the change in position. “Sweetness what’s wrong? We don’t have to do this if you’re having second thoughts.” You shake your head so quickly that you almost make yourself lightheaded. “It’s not that. I just-” you pause trying to think of the right way to explain yourself without sounding incredibly pathetic.

But it seems like Jack can read your mind. Before you can even continue to draft your thoughts, his brow straightens and an incredibly soft look crosses his features. He stands from his spot and kneels in front of you on the bed. “Doll, you are one of the most gorgeous creatures I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. I just wanna make you feel good. Will you let Daddy take care of you?”

You can feel the heat bloom in your body and you nod as you release a shaky breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding. Jack smirks at your reaction, pleased that you’re less in your head.

He stands and holds you by your hip, urging you to rotate onto your back. Once you’ve done so, he grabs your ankles pulling them apart and down so your legs are dangling off the bed. He kneels on the ground in front of you once more and you see that his eyes are dark with lust. You feel dizzy, knowing that you’re the one having this effect on him. He lifts one leg over his shoulder, and then the other; finishing by sliding his hands under your ass and tugging you closer.

Any potential embarrassment is immediately banished from your mind as you feel his breath against your wetness. He wastes no time, flattening his tongue and licking a broad strip up from your slit to your clit. Your eyes widen at the sensation and you let out a loud gasp as he does it a second time. His tongue licks at your folds before his lips settle on your clit.

Immediately, as if they had a mind of their own, your hips try to buck into his mouth. Desperate for more pleasure, more of that tongue on you. You feel Jack grin against you and he wraps his arms around your waist to keep them still. “Woah now sugar, calm down.” He’s only removed his mouth a few inches, the hot breath teasing you with its closeness makes you want to writhe on the bed. Jack must feel the tension in your hips because he chuckles. “Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna give you what you need.”

His mouth is on you again, alternating between swirling patterns on your clit and filling you with his tongue. The noises coming from his mouth as he works you closer to pleasure are filthy and you’re about to comment when he pulls back for a moment. You let out a ragged breath and sit up a bit, wondering why he stopped. He takes a thick finger and drags it up through the combined wetness of you and his spit. It teases near your opening and you groan as your want for more sparks once again.

He chuckles at your expression. It’s not a mocking one, you can tell with the way he’s looking at you, the softness in his eyes like he’s the lucky one for sharing this with you. He’s not away from you long. That same finger is entering you now and nothing has ever felt this good. You didn’t realize how different it would feel with fingers that weren’t your own. Yours always felt too methodical, his felt magical.

“You’re sweeter than honey. Did ya know that?” you’re glad you managed to open your eyes as you look down at him popping that same finger into his mouth, sucking it clean. You know you must look ridiculous, your eyes blown wide with lust and jaw hanging slack and open in shock.

You feel yourself clench tightly as Jack moves to slide a second finger in. His free hand reaches up to hold your hip, his thumb moving in calming circles along the skin there. “You gotta relax sugar.” He moves his head back to your clit, speaking directly into you. “I want ya to feel good. Just relax.”

You do your best to follow his instructions, taking a breath and focusing on his hand on your hip and his mouth on your most sensitive area. Feeling your muscles relax, Jack grins into you. “That’s a good girl.” And the praise makes you shudder. He moves a second finger through your folds gathering the pooling slick and slides them into your entrance. You can feel his fingers thrusting inside you, taking breaks to scissor outwards stretching you out in the most delicious way. The fingers curl, finding a spot you’ve never managed to find in your years of exploring your own body.

You throw your head back against the covers as you let out a wanton moan, eyes clenched shut in pleasure as he continues to stroke that sweet spot. You’re so lost that you don’t take notice of a third finger slipping in as he picks up the pace. You’re panting now, breath coming out rapid and hot as your chest heaves with the labor of trying to keep some semblance of calm as the man between your legs wrecks you. Between his fingers thrusting into you and his lips sucking at your clit you can feel your orgasm rushing up on you like a speeding train. You reach a hand down, hoping Jack doesn’t mind as you grab onto his hair letting out a breathless “Jack I’m gonna-” you can feel him nod slightly, groaning at the pressure of your fingers gripping onto his hair and the vibrations finally do you in.

You feel yourself clenching again, this time due to the amount of pleasure running through your body and your legs close gently around Jack who works you through your orgasam, only letting his fingers slide from you once you go limp against the sheets. He gives you another broad lick for good measure and you whimper from the overstimulation, not being able to form words yet.

He rises from his kneeling position and crawls onto the bed, one knee between yours, the other bracketing your leg. You stare up at him with glossy eyes, tracing over his slick mustache and chin. Reaching up, you circle your arms around his neck and bring him down for a kiss, slow and passionate and you moan into his mouth as you taste yourself, sweet and tangy, on his tongue. “You ready for more sugar? We can stop here if you need you.”

You know it’s the bare minimum, really, but you can’t help but be moved by the constant check-ins from Jack. It means a lot to you that he’s looking out for you every step of the way.

Not much for words for fear of getting to emotional, you reach over to your bedside table and pull the drawer open, fishing out a bottle of lube and a condom. You hand both to Jack and correctly reads this as an answer to his question. Looking down, he raises a brow in amusement. “A pink condom huh? That’s new.” Biting down on your tongue to hold back a laugh, you shrug under him. “They were free at the last pride I went to. Gotta stick with the thematic rainbow colors right?” He laughs with you ripping the foil open and rolling the condom onto his cock and you’re glad the two of you can laugh in the moment.

“Now sweetness, I’m gonna need you to relax again, alright? Daddy prepared you with his fingers but as you can see sugar, his cock is much bigger.”

Your eyes trail down his body and he was right. His cock was much bigger than his fingers and much bigger than the dildo you had made yourself comfortable with. But Jack has been patient and gentle all night and you’d be lying to yourself if the thought of him inside of you didn’t set a fire coursing through you.

His words sent heat right through you down to your core, you might have been overeager but his tone had you spreading your legs for him with a wink, a bold feeling suddenly overcoming you since your first orgasm. “I’ll relax daddy. I’ll be good.” His smile is blinding as he grabs one of your pillows and helps you settle it under you, lifting your legs to bracket his own hips.

He notches his cock at your entrance and your breath catches in your throat. He was right, it’s much different than his fingers. More filling, more intense, but just as pleasurable. The pain and pleasure intertwine and set your nerves alight. He inches in slowly, giving your body time to adjust to his size, the entire time he’s praising you, pressing kisses to your face, neck, and chest. “That’s a good girl. Taking me so well. That’s it sugar, keep breathing. You look gorgeous under me like this.”

His praise pulls you into his orbit further. Sooner than you expected you feel his hips make contact with your ass and you realize with a moan that he’s fully in you now. He remains still and bent over you, kissing you deeply, your fingers tangled in his hair. The stillness is agonizing, you need him to move and move now.

“Daddy!” you whimper, and you’d be embarrassed at the tone of your voice if you hadn’t felt him twitch inside of you. “Please move! Please, I'm ready for you to move.” He groans into your neck and obliges. He moves back, pulling out at a torturously slow pace and you feel his cock drag along your walls letting out a breathy moan. He pushes back in slowly too, continuing with this pace until you’re pulling at his hair again, whimpering and begging him to go faster.

“Alright darlin, you let me know if we need to stop now.” You eyes are trained on him as you nod, internally mesmerized at how much care he’s been taking tonight. You can’t say one way or another but you think it’d be hard to find someone to come into a bar hookup with this much gentleness.

“You’d be wonderful to tease darlin. You know that? I could listen to those noises all night, keeping you on edge. You think you’re begging now?” You clench at his words knowing that you were at his mercy, that at this point you’d let him do whatever he wanted as long as he kept cooing praise in your ear. “But tonight is about you, no teasin. Your wish is my command sugar.” He picks up pace and you can’t believe what you had been missing.

Your legs lock around his back bringing him in closer and you find yourself holding on, arms linked around his neck as he takes you on a ride.

What started off as a careful pace on Jack’s end, wound up pushing you to your limits. You didn’t think it would feel this good your first time. Maybe that’s what had kept you away for so long. But any fears had no place here as Jack rocked into you picking up speed with each thrust.

With one hand on your hip holding you steady, Jack leans down to start sucking a mark on your neck, pulling back to admire his handiwork in the form of a red mark that he knows will last a few days. In response your hands in his hair tighten their grip as you both let out simultaneous moans.

“Such a good girl for me.” Jack’s grunting into your neck at this point, his breath coming out hot and heavy, fanning across your skin. “Making me feel so good.” His thrusts are getting erratic now, losing rhythm. His hand dances across your skin, skimming across your chest before finding its way between your legs, thumb working small and quick circles on your bundle of nerves.

“You got another one in ya don’tcha sugar? I wanna see your face when daddy makes you cum.” You’re past words at this point only able to nod your head and moan in response.

With a few more powerful thrusts in tandem with the pressure on your clit you’re coming around Jack’s cock, head thrown back against the pillows with eyes rolling back in pleasure chanting his name.

Jack groans at the tightness around him and the expression on your face. He fucks you through your orgasm, removing his hand from your clit as he grips tightly onto your hips.

When Jack finishes, its with a shaky breath and a drawn out moan right next to your ear. And though you were on the verge of overstimulation so close to your last orgasm, the sound sent another pang of arousal through your body. You were definitely gonna store that away for later.

The two of you remain entangled for a bit. He’s softening inside of you as he gently peppers kisses to your forehead, nose and cheeks. You’re thoroughly exhausted, reveling in the attention and when he dips down you find yourself nuzzling into the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. You worry for a moment that it’s too intimate for a bar hookup but immediately chase that thought off with a deep inhale, taking in the smell of sweat and sex and remnants of his cologne. It’s intoxicating.

Eventually he must tire of holding his body up so as to not crush you and he slides out of you slowly. You have to admit that you miss the fullness and only pout slightly as he stands from the bed, making his way into the bathroom.

When he returns the condom is gone and he has a damp washcloth in his hand. He kneels on the bed and begins gently wiping away the sweat on your brow, trailing the warm rag down your chest and between your legs. You can’t help but hum in contentment, not having expected this level of care after a one night stand. He balls up the rag and tosses it with expert aim back into the bathroom and you couldn’t care less where it lands. All you want is him back in your bed and pressed against you.

Words aren’t needed. Jack seems to read your mind and smiles down at you before crawling into bed behind you. You inch your body closer to his until you find his arms wrapping around your middle, tugging you close and eliminating the gap.

“Thanks for that Jack….that was-” you pause trying to find your words. “-that was fucking phenomenal.” You feel a huff of laughter against the back of your neck before feeling him shift positions allowing him to press another kiss to your temple. “I aim to please darlin.”

You close your eyes briefly before a pang of anxiety worms its way into your mind. “Will you still be here in the morning?” The question is quiet, whispered. Half of you wanting an answer and the other half hoping he didn’t hear as to not reveal yourself to be as vulnerable as you feel.

“Course I will sugar. I reckon–if you’re amiable–that there’s a few more things I can show ya.”

You’re giddy at the thought and can’t help but giggle. “I’d love that.”

You’re not sure where this thing between you two will go, but even if you only have him for one night, you know that it’s an experience you’re never going to forget.