#top surgery was this morning! came back to the hotel at noon and have just been napping and eating and chilling w my mom

[transsextual]

I don't have tits anymore :)

[lobsters-on-their-heads]

Continuing Travels of Cophine, Chapt. 2

No sex in this one, I’m afraid.  Link to the entire work here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12116799?view_full_work=true

Alison handled the money on the Foundation's end. That was the arrangement they all agreed on when the Foundation was created. She put a million dollars into a ready-to-access account with two debit cards and the rest of the money into interest-earning accounts of various types and risk levels. When Cosima saw the total amount Rachel Duncan had given them, Delphine had to remind her to breathe.

“How many countries will you be visiting?” Alison asked one evening in July. They all sat in her living room, pretending to go over details of the trip, but mostly snacking, enjoying each other's company, and playing with the babies.

“Exactly?” Cosima asked. “I dunno, maybe 100? It depends. Some of the sisters might not be where Dyad says they are. I'm not.”

“Do we know how long this whole trip will take?”

“No idea.”

Alison typed some numbers into her adding machine and frowned. It was the first time Cosima had seen someone actually use an adding machine in real life, and she wanted Alison to have a yellow visor to go with it. “Maybe we can plan out the next six months, at least? For the finances, I mean. Let's assume $100 a night for hotels, $30 a day for food, oh, and don't forget plane tickets.” She scribbled some notes on a pad. “Is it reasonable that you might be flying once a week or so, on average?”

Cosima had zoned out watching Delphine bounce baby Arthur on her knee, and came back to Alison with a dull “huh?”

Alison sighed. “Let's just assume that you'll be flying somewhere new, on average, once a week. You said you didn't want your plane tickets set in stone-” She rolled her eyes to show what she thought of that. “- so you'll be spending max money on all of your tickets because they'll be last minute. Correct?”

“Sounds about right.”

“Well, that will be several hundred dollars per flight, per person. Maybe even over a thousand per person.” More note scribbling. “One thousand dollars per flight per person, once a week, for six months.... that comes out to... $48,000. Roughly. To twenty-four destinations, which we're also ballparking right now. In the course of a year, of course, we would double that to $96,000. Until you fly to Japan and the Antipodes, of course, which will probably triple the cost.”

Sarah leaned over to catch the end of Alison's spiel. “Are you forgetting they have one million dollars for this? I think we can afford $100,000 in plane tickets, and, what, a couple thousand on food and hotels overall? Hell, go out for drinks, see the sights, live a little. The money's all there.”

“It's all an estimate, though. It could cost four times this amount, and this is only basic travel expenses. Some of our sisters will need to have medical care paid for from this fund, or they might need to be flown somewhere. Bribes might need to be paid. We don't know. We need to keep costs low.” Alison shook her head. “And Cosima, you're not even going to be administering the cure to anyone?”

Cosima shifted in her seat. “I mean, we all decided it's best that the clones stay naive. That's harder to do if the person curing them looks exactly like them.”

“Of course. That, I understand, it's just... Well, frankly, it would make a lot more sense for Delphine to travel by herself.”

In the silence that followed, Delphine said, “Not to me, it doesn't.” She hoisted baby Arthur up to her shoulder, where he tangled his hands in her hair. “Cosima developed the cure,” she went on, “she needs to be present when it's administered, even if she's not in the same room. She'll have control over it, not me.”

Cosima would have kissed her then, but baby Arthur picked that moment to sneeze all over Delphine's face.

* * * *

In Mexico City, Cosima settled into Julian and Martín's spacious living room. It was around noon on their first full day in the city, almost time for her weekly Skype call with Alison, and Cosima was still finishing her breakfast. It was strange being in this house alone, surrounded by all the signs of other people's life together, after months and months of hotel rooms. Coffee cup in one hand, Cosima strolled around the perimeter of the living room, looking at the photographs and mementos on the walls and bookshelves. One shelf was dedicated to Julian and Martín's wedding. They had married on a beach, in matching pastel suits. There were photos of each man surrounded by his parents and extended family as well as couple photos of just them. Cosima wondered if she would ever meet Delphine's family. She'd asked once, after arranging for her own parents to meet Delphine, and Delphine deflected so well that Cosima didn't even realize that she'd never gotten an answer until a week later. When she'd brought it up again, it was clear Delphine was not excited about it, so Cosima dropped it.

The laptop blooped a few minutes after noon, revealing Alison's face framed by her former craft room. Cosima was still bummed that Alison had done away with the best craft room she'd ever seen.

“Hello, Cosima,” Alison said, looking somewhere at the table beside her computer.

“Hola, Alison. ¿Como estás?”

Alison frowned a bit. She'd never learned Spanish, but really, Cosima had greeted her that way on all of their past conversations, so there shouldn't be any surprise there.

“I'm busy,” Alison said. “Brenda quit, so I've been managing the accounts by myself this week.”

“Wait, what?” Brenda McAllister was their accountant for the Foundation, hired shortly after Cosima and Delphine left Canada, since no one in Clone Club had significant experience with non-profits or tax law. “Why?”

“No idea. She just left, with two hours notice.”

“Holy shit.”

“We put out some ads for a new accountant, but with the holidays coming up, I have no idea what kinds of people will apply.”

Cosima had no idea what the holidays had to do with it, but she kept that to herself. “I'm sure we can manage in the meantime. I mean, Brenda got us started; that was the biggest hurdle.”

“It was, but it won't remain that way. Something else will come along. It always does.” Alison finally paused whatever other task she was doing to look at Cosima on her screen. “Where are you right now? Is that your hotel room?”

Cosima looked around at the spacious living room with the dining room set in view behind her. “Oh, no. We're staying with a friend of Delphine's.”

“Oh. For free, I hope?”

“I mean, we brought them some gifts from Argentina because we're not assholes, but yeah, it's free.”

“Thank heavens.”

“Why? Last I checked, the account had plenty of money left. Or did Brenda take it all with her when she left?”

“No, she didn't, but there's a chance we may need to pay her replacement a little bit more. For the moment, I have added a bit more to our pay up here-” she gestured to her herself and her home to indicate Donnie's involvement “-since we've taken on more responsibilities.”

“Sure, that's fine.”

“Enough about that, though, how are things down there?”

Cosima thought back to her morning with Delphine and smiled. “Oh, swell. Delphine's friend does cosmetic surgery here, and his husband's a banker, so they're pretty well set up. Only downside is the airline lost Delphine's suitcase.”

The indignation on Alison's face was almost worth the loss. “What? Did you call the company?”

“Yes, we called them. Delphine's also tweeted and commented on all their social media. Nothing yet.”

“Hmpf. Maybe one of our sisters down there works for the airline and can assist?”

“Uh... if they do, that would be a weird ask. And I don't think any of them do. Not for that airline, at least. Besides, there's the chance it was just stolen.”

“Well, it's a good thing we got that travel insurance, then, isn't it? You've filed a claim, right?”

“Yes,” Cosima said, making a mental note to do so after getting off the call. “I've gotta go out and buy a bunch of stuff today though to replace what we lost.”

“The cure wasn't-”

“No, the cure is fine. We always carry the medical bag with us on the plane. Trust me, I'd be freaking out a LOT more if we'd lost that.”

After that, Alison caught her up on the family business up there. The babies were healthy, Helena finally had legally (if illegally produced) identification documents, Gemma was going to star in her school play, Donnie's job was going well, and Felix had gotten Oscar interested in painting. “Oh, and we tried another church this past Sunday.”

“Another one?” Cosima knew Alison had stopped going to her old church after some drama at the Fall Festival, but she thought she'd found another one already.

“Yes. It's in the city, actually, not far from Sarah and Kira, so I thought I'd ask them to come along next Sunday.”

Cosima took a moment to imagine Sarah in a church. “Good luck with that,” she said.

* *

On her way into the shopping district near the clinic, Cosima reflected that, on this trip at least, she was equal parts Delphine's girlfriend and Dr. Cormier's personal assistant. She didn't mind. In fact, she would have done more if she had the skills or if Delphine allowed it, but there were some things Delphine refused help with, and which Cosima admitted she would probably suck at. Namely, buying clothes for Delphine. Cosima could handle buying something like a jacket, which Delphine didn't need because she still had hers, or socks, which she did need and Cosima would buy for her, but all other items of clothing were off limits. Delphine would buy them herself that afternoon after her time at the clinic.

Cosima had a shopping list ordered from essential to not, with drug store items at the top. After visiting four different drug stores in a one mile radius of the clinic, Cosima had a few bags filled with everything Delphine needed for her skin, hair (on her head and elsewhere), eyebrows, nails, and teeth, plus assorted over-the-counter medications, but still missed the second-to-top item on the list. They'd heard that tampons were hard to find in Latin America, so they'd brought several boxes down from Canada, all packed in Delphine's suitcase. Cosima's periods were so irregular that she always kept one in her purse for emergencies, but that was just one. Delphine's period was regulated by birth control, which, of course, had also been in Delphine's suitcase. Replacement pills had been blessedly easy to get at the first farmacia, but Delphine had nearly finished with her current month's doses, and she was scheduled to be on sugar pills tomorrow, meaning her normal period would start. Before schlepping another couple of blocks to yet another drug store, Cosima sent her girlfriend a quick text.

How opposed are you to pads? cause that might be our only option.

The reply came several minutes later. Very. Have you checked everywhere?

Cosima sighed and adjusted the bags on her arms. Working on it. Maybe you can just take the regular pills for a while, save the placebos for home. Extra hormones for a week won't kill you.

In the time before the response came, Cosima ducked into a little clothing store and bought several pairs of animal print socks for Delphine. When she got back on the sidewalk, Delphine replied. Just get some tampons, chérie.

She rolled her eyes.

The fifth store she tried was close to a small community of English-speaking expats, but still, they had no tampons. Cosima waited in line ahead of some chatty older women from the States who were happy to commiserate with her after they'd made their own purchases.

“Those are hard to find down here, sweetheart,” one told her. She reminded Cosima of a much older version of Adele, with huge sunglasses and a flowery hat. “I've heard there's a place a few miles from here that sells them, but you know, I haven't had to worry about that in so long, I don't even know.”

Cosima gave her a small smile. She was thinking about dinner, which they were having at a restaurant near the clinic, which was now close to two miles away.

“Are you just visiting?” the woman's friend asked. “You sure have done some shopping, it looks like.”

“Yeah, we're just here for a couple days.” Seeing the look on their faces, she added, “Our, uh, one of our suitcases went missing, so I'm restocking.”

“Oh, isn't that just the worst? The airlines lost it?”

She nodded. The sun had sunk to eye level, burning her eyes and face as soon as stepped back outside, the older women right behind her. For a moment her heart sank as she realized they were going in her direction, until the one without sunglasses unfurled a wide blue parasol, blocking the sun for both of them.

“I'm Eileen,” the woman with the parasol said, “and this is Cindy. Where are you comin' from?”

Cosima ran through a quick list in her mind of all the places they'd been, but said only, “Toronto.”

“Oh, it's cold up there! No wonder you came down. I'm from Virginia and Cindy's from Georgia, but we met down here. You'll wanna stay, trust me. Who're you here with?”

That was always a sticky question with strangers, especially in more conservative parts of Latin America, but they'd both decided not to lie about it or hide their relationship, so Cosima said, “I'm here with my girlfriend.”

Both Cindy and Eileen seemed pleased with that. “That is the way to do it,” Eileen said. “Forget boyfriends or husbands or whatever, just travel with a girlfriend.”

“That's what I did my first time down here,” Cindy said. “I came down with a couple girlfriends. Eileen, you've met one of them, my girlfriend Mary, with the little dog. Anyway, it was worlds better than traveling with my husband.”

They reached the end of the block and smiled again at Cosima, looking like they would keep walking with her. “Yeah,” Cosima said. “Totally. I, uh, gotta go this way. It was nice to meet you both.”

Heading off in the wrong direction on purpose, grumbled to herself about the pains of heteronormativity. In Spanish, of course, Delphine was her novia, which was more clearcut since it always meant romance, but some Spanish speakers tried correcting her, asking if she really mean novio if Delphine wasn't around to reference. A few times in English she'd called Delphine her partner, which didn't help any either since they were here on a medical trip, and people then lumped their relationship into the “strictly professional” category. A couple of times she'd wanted to just shout at people, “I'm here with the woman I'm in love with!”

She checked the time and cursed. Delphine would be meeting her for dinner in twenty minutes, and Cosima would most likely not make it there in time. “Fuck it,” she muttered, and sent for an Uber. She didn't care if Alison disapproved; she'd eat the costs herself if it meant not staggered another two miles in this sun. While she waited for the Uber to arrive, she got an idea. She copy/pasted Julian and Martín's address into a text message to Alison and added a message. Please overnight a small box of tampons pls and ty.

* *

After dinner in a lovely little restaurant near the clinic, they took a bus back to Julian's house, where he and Martín served them drinks. Within five minutes he and Delphine had fallen back into reminiscing about medical school days in Paris. While they laughed about some professor with particularly large eyebrows, Martín turned to Cosima with a knowing look. “It will be this way for your entire visit, I'm afraid. Another friend visited us last year, and all they talked about was the old days.”

“It's okay,” she said. “I've heard, like, nothing about Delphine's school days. I could sit and listen all day.” It wasn't quite true. Cosima knew a little about Delphine's boarding school and how she'd been so miserable she tried to kill herself once, though she didn't know exactly why. She knew about the restaurants and parks in Paris Delphine loved, because Delphine wanted to take her there, and she knew about some of the friends Delphine still talked to now and then, like Julian. Bits and pieces of Delphine's past had filtered through their conversations, but the majority of Delphine's past remained fuzzy in Cosima's mind.

Julian and Delphine moved on to talk about some student protests which took place during their time in medical school, and how one protest caused half of their anatomy class to miss an exam, and Martín stood up with an exaggerated yawn. “I've heard it all before,” he told Cosima. “So I'm going to read a book in bed. Goodnight, everyone.” He kissed Julian and waved to Delphine and left.

Another glass of wine, and Julian and Delphine's English became peppered with French phrases. Delphine stretched out her legs under the table to prop her feet up on Cosima's lap, her cheeks flushing from the wine and laughter. Cosima just watched her, heart full to bursting. This is what I want with you, she thought. I want to sit with you and learn everything about you, and know that I'll see you tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that...

Her reverie was broken when Julian put another glass down in front of her, leaned into her space, and gestured towards Delphine. “Has she told you about Jérôme?”

“Jérôme??” Cosima asked with an eyebrow wiggle. Quite early in their relationship, she'd learned that Delphine had had quite a few male sexual partners in the past. There was no surprise there; it would've shocked Cosima more if Delphine hadn't fucked a lot of people, frankly. Besides, it would be the height of hypocrisy for Cosima to make a stink about it, considering how many people she had been with herself.

“Oh, mon dieu,” Delphine groaned. “We're not talking about that right now. Please.”

“Oh, come on,” Cosima said with a laugh. “I wanna hear about it!”

Julian acted aghast, clutching invisible pearls at his chest. “You haven't told her about Jérôme? How long have you two been together, again?”

“He's not important,” Delphine insisted. “I don't want to talk about that.”

“Come on,” Cosima repeated. “I tell you about my exes.” She squeezed one of Delphine's socked feet on her lap. It was quite cool inside now, and Delphine wore a pair of socks Cosima'd purchased for her that day, with monkeys holding bananas on them.

“Fine,” Delphine said. She took a final drink of wine and pulled her feet from Cosima's lap, then stood up. “Julian can tell you what he wants, but I don't want to listen. I lived through it once already.”

Cosima watched her lanky frame vanish around the corner towards their bedroom. She almost got up to follow her, but Julian settled back into narrative mode.

“Fine,” he said, “I'll tell you. Jérôme was Delphine's boyfriend for, oh... two years, I think maybe.”

“Okay.” With a last glance in Delphine's direction, Cosima turned back to him. “I mean, I figured he was.”

“They met the first week of medical school. He was... ouff, he was handsome. And brilliant, of course, because we all were, and everyone knew they would be together after the first day.”

Cosima nodded along. If Julian was trying to upset or scandalize her, it wasn't working.

“They were the perfect couple,” he went on. “They were beautiful, brilliant, rich. People took bets on them. How famous they would be, which famous people they would befriend, when they would marry, everything. He took her everywhere. Every soirée at a professor's house, every gala, every big name restaurant in the city.”

He tossed an olive into his mouth and the briefest flicker of jealousy finally popped into Cosima's head as she wondered if one of those restaurants was one Delphine would take her to. And? It's not like you don't have those places yourself, that an ex showed you and you love by itself now. Delphine's allowed that, too.

“He took her to his parents' summer home in Vis,” Julian went on.

“Vis?” Cosima asked. The tiny flare of jealousy, which she'd just squashed, came back, larger this time, as Julian looked at her with surprise. Apparently, everyone knew where Vis was, and Cosima had just revealed herself as not being in the know.

“The playground for the rich,” he explained with a hand wave. “It's an island in the Adriatic Sea, part of Croatia.”

“Oh. That Vis. I must've been thinking of a different one.” She drank some more wine, a little glad now that Delphine wasn't there to see her embarrass herself.

“Anyway, we were all jealous all the time because they were just too perfect, both of them. It's like they were keeping all of this perfection just for themselves.”

“Mhm.” This must have been why Delphine left, she thought. Cosima wouldn't want an old friend gushing about how great she'd been with an ex, either.

Julian shook his head and sighed. “He proposed to her, too. Did she never tell you that?”

She blinked. “No. No, she's never mentioned it.”

“Hmmm. It was a big deal. I mean, of course it was a big deal, everything they did was a big deal, but the way he did it was big. A lot of us knew he was planning it; he wanted me to come buy the ring with him, but I didn't want to.” He drank some more wine and looked into space for a moment, maybe remembering other things from that time. “He proposed at the awards night for the school. She'd won an award for some kind of student research, I don't remember what, no one remembers what. Her parents were there – both of them, and I'm sure you know how hard that it to accomplish.”

Cosima did not know. She knew Delphine's parents were divorced, wealthy, and not in frequent contact with her, and that was about it. “Hmm,” she said.

“His family was there, too. They knew what was coming, and they had their camera all ready.” Julian drank some more wine for dramatic effect, like Cosima didn't already know how the story ended. She just didn't know how the ending would come about.

“Let me guess,” Cosima said, “he proposed in front of everyone and she said no?”

“No. He proposed in front of everyone, yes, right after she'd gotten her award, but she didn't say no. She said yes.”

“Oh.”

“There were cheers, and the professor who gave her the award hugged her, and people took pictures. Everyone said they'd been waiting for it to happen, it was inevitable. You know how people get.”

Cosima shrugged. Her glass was almost empty, but she didn't want any more wine. She felt like she'd had far too much already. “So she was engaged?” she said. “To some rich doctor, I mean, medical student, named Jérôme?”

“For about six hours, yes. Once the crowds went home and the pictures were all taken, they went back to his apartment and she told him she'd changed her mind. She didn't want to embarrass him in front of everyone, so she'd said yes at first, but....” Julian raised his arms up in a what're you gonna do gesture. “It was a scandal, as you might imagine.”

“I might,” she agreed.

“Mon Dieu, I can't believe she never told you that story.”

“Yeah. Yeah, me neither.” For the sake of politeness, she finished her glass of wine, but refused another. “I, uh, I think I'm gonna turn in. Goodnight.”

[nikki-romero]

How to Play Boyfriend-Girlfriend ~ Chapter 3 [Eisuke Ichinomiya]

It had been a few days since Eisuke introduced me to Bucci. I had just come out of a three-hour surgery when I noticed several missed calls on my cell phone. I called back as I leaned my back against the wall outside the theatre, exhausted.

“Where were you?” Eisuke demanded impatiently.

“In surgery, you moron. Where do you think?” I snapped back at him.

“When is your next day off?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Good. Meet me in the penthouse tomorrow at no–”

“No,” I cut him off. There was a pause on the other end of the line.

“What?”

“Whatever you have planned, forget it. Do you have any idea how many surgeries I have lined up? And on top of that, I’m working the night shift tonight. I’m not going anywhere tomorrow.”

“Can’t you just sleep in the morning until noon?” Eisuke asked, exasperation in his voice.

“No.”

He sighed. “Look, there are still guests from the I.V.C. staying here.”

“Yes, and?”

“Bucci will be at the casino tomorrow. And that’s the best place for us to show off our relationship to him.”

“No.”

“Ran…”

“First of all, you expect me to do favours for you but you can’t even muster a simple ‘please’. You expect me to be at your beck and call every minute of every day like I don’t have anything better to do. Like I don’t have a demanding job, or a kid to take care of, or responsibilities of my own. I’m not your servant, Eisuke. I have a life. And I would appreciate it if you could practice at least a small amount of common courtesy and stop acting like you own me! You don’t! I’m hanging up now.” Not only did I hang up, but I switched my phone off for good measure.

 In the end, Eisuke had shown up at my house the following evening to apologise. I was mildly surprised he would go to the trouble. I could count on one hand the amount of times Eisuke Ichinomiya had apologised; I only needed one finger. He had asked me if I wouldn’t reconsider going to the casino with him, and had even arranged for our good friend, Baba, to take Lauren to the movies.

“Do you still know how to play?” Eisuke asked, stopping by the roulette table.

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll teach you again if you can’t remember.” He kissed me on my temple. I didn’t react, but I could feel the people inside staring, and I knew they were talking about us. I couldn’t say I found it very pleasant. Eisuke kept snuggled up against my side as I played. 

“Looks like you still remember,” Eisuke whispered in my ear, his lips brushing against my cheek. It sent shivers down my spine; It tickled and I could feel the hair on the back of my neck standing upright. I turned my face slightly towards him. I couldn’t even turn completely towards him as he was too close; if I had, our lips would surely touch.

“Don’t do that…” I protested, my voice coming out as a husky whisper.

“You’re such a showoff, Eisuke!” the Italian mob boss, Mr. Antonio Bucci, came up to us.

“Mr. Bucci! Are you enjoying yourself?” Eisuke asked with that fake smile plastered on his face. Making sure Bucci couldn’t see me, I rolled my eyes and continued playing as though he wasn’t even there.

“Somewhat. I was just getting a bit bored. Show me around your hotel?” Bucci asked.

“Yes, of course. I was hoping I’d get the chance to show you around sometime. Besides the casino, we have pools, and art museum, theatres, bars… Plenty of other places you can enjoy yourself,” Eisuke said.

“There’s nothing better than the company of a beautiful woman. You’ll come too, won’t you, Ran?” Bucci asked me. For the first time today I looked, mustering up a polite smile.

“You flatter me. I was just about done here, anyway.”

“You won the jackpot.” Eisuke smiled at me. A genuine smile this time.

“I learned from the best.” I looped my arm through his.

“Since she’s both my girlfriend and my childhood friend, Ran is very familiar with my hotel,” Eisuke said, turning back to Bucci.

“I should hope so. I helped with the plans. I’d be happy to show you around,” I spoke confidently to the mobster.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Then let’s show Mr. Bucci around. Shall we, Ran?” Eisuke turned to me.

“Yes, of course.”

After showing Bucci around the hotel, Eisuke and I returned to the lounge, where everyone else was already waiting.

“Welcome back!” Baba greeted us, “Did you have fun at the casino, Boss?” Mitsunari Baba. AKA Baba. World famous thief and a good friend of mine. Though gets along with Ota quite well, and I could never understand why. Ota Kisaki may have been a world-famous artist, but he was rotten to the core. I cursed the day Eisuke ever brought him into the fold.

“Hey, Baba. Where’s Lauren?” I asked, taking off my over coat.

“She had so much fun at the movies, she fell asleep on the car ride home.” Baba smiled broadly. “I put her to bed upstairs.”

“Thanks for doing that.”  

“I’d say that went well,” Eisuke said, sitting down on the sofa. 

“My cheeks hurt from all that fake smiling…” I sighed, massaging my cheeks as I went to pour myself a much needed drink. “Not to mention all that polite speaking.”

“Don’t you speak politely to your patients?” Eisuke asked.

“Yes, but this is overkill.” I practically fell down on the couch next to him.

 Not long after my day off, I happened to have another one, and this one happened to fall on a Saturday. I had promised Lauren I would take her to a brand new Hawaiian café that recently opened.

I was admiring the tropical design of the café as we waited for our pancakes when a man stopped in front of my seat.

“Ran! Hey. Fancy running into you here.” I looked up to find my younger brother, Geo, smiling down at me. I smiled back.

“Hey.” I motioned for him to take the empty seat next to mine.

“Uncle Geo!” Lauren jumped up from her seat and threw her arms around my brother’s waist before he could sit down. Geo hugged her back, a gentle smile playing across his lips.

“I promised Lauren I’d take her to get pancakes here.” I smiled.

“Nice. I was passing by and I suddenly got the urge for some Hawaiian cuisine. I saw there was no line.” Geo sat in the seat across from me. Lauren sat next to him.

“That’s true. You usually have to wait in line at this place without a reservation,” I replied.

“Are you having the pancakes as well, Ran?”

“Mm.” I nodded.

“Well it is their signature item. I think I’ll have it too.” 

Geo waved a waitress over and ordered pancakes as well. It wasn’t long before the waitress brought out our plates.

“It’s so sweet!” Lauren said as soon as she took a bite.

“It is. Good thing you’ve got a sweet tooth,” I smiled. 

Lauren loved anything sweet. No doubt she got that from her father. The three of us chatted while we ate. I’d been so busy lately, I’ve hardly had time to spend with my family. This was a nice change of pace.

 To be continued…

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[megaphonemonday]

Bawson prompt: Ginny having a bad day, mike bringing food to her hotel room, they fall asleep together & wake up cuddling (smut if you want)

Okay, so I tweaked a few things, and while I almost always want smut, I couldn’t get my brain to go there this time around. perhaps next time?

baseball is pretty good too | ao3

Ginny’d been so excited to start training again. The ten weeks between her collapse on the field and her first time back on the mound was the longest she’d gone without picking up a ball since the accident. 

Then, she couldn’t force herself to confront the game. Now, she wasn’t allowed to.

She’d practically skipped into her first bullpen session. Her physical therapist had been a little leery of starting a throwing regimen so quickly, but Ginny’d finally hounded him into agreeing. So what if a few of the exercises still gave her a little trouble? They were mostly for conditioning, rebuilding strength. What better way to condition than put her arm through the motions?

Because, really. If Ginny had to go one more day without getting on the mound, she was pretty sure she was going to scream or cry or both.

Which, funnily enough, was exactly what she wanted to do upon waking the morning after that work out.

Ginny rolled onto her side, clutching her arm to her chest as she tried to breathe through the pain.

Mercifully, it wasn’t as bad as it had been back in September, so she didn’t think she’d re-injured herself yesterday. At least, not in the same way.

To be fair, both her physical therapist and the pitching coach had warned her that she’d probably be sore when she woke up, but she hadn’t really believed them. It wasn’t like they did much of anything she hadn’t done a million times before, and only at half effort, too. But apparently, her six week rest followed by a scant month of strength training had made her soft. 

Ginny couldn’t remember the last time she hurt so much after a work out, grimacing as she straightened her elbow and the muscles surrounding the joint protested. Sharply. She stopped, but couldn’t clamp down on the tears of frustration that rolled down her cheek. Sniffing, she willed herself to stop, curling up tighter under the blankets. This was an unpleasant reminder that getting back into shape wouldn’t be the same as maintaining her strength, but it wasn’t the end of the world.

Still, the thought of dragging herself out of bed to do more than pop one of the painkillers she’d tried not to rely on or maybe get a heating pad to relax away the lingering soreness was overwhelming.

After doing both of those things, Ginny sent Evelyn a quick text to cancel their lunch plans. She didn’t even bother waiting for a response, just turned the phone off and cocooned herself in the luxurious bedding and tried to will herself back to sleep.

She must have succeeded because the next thing Ginny knew, she was startling awake. Blearily, she tried to identify what had woken her, but the suite was quiet.

Well, until a flurry of knocks sounded at the door.

Ginny did consider ignoring it until it went away. If it was the hotel, they’d call her room if necessary. Otherwise, she was pretty sure she didn’t want to see anyone.

Or, more accurately, anyone to see her. Not like this.

Apparently, though, she would not get a say in this because a voice began to accompany the incessant knocking.

“Open up, rookie! I know you’re in there!”

Ginny jackknifed upright at the sound of her captain’s voice, an unorganized rush of emotions and thoughts and half-remembered dreams spinning through her brain. Without quite thinking about it, her feet were on the ground, padding towards the door. All the while, Mike kept hammering away, nearly shouting through the solid wood. With her luck, security was already on its way up. 

In seconds, she’d yanked the door open, cutting Mike’s knocking off mid rap.

His words trailed off less abruptly.

“Do you know how many times Evelyn’s called me in the past three hours? Nine times! I don’t think I’ve talked to her on the phone nine times before…”

The barrage of words died as Mike’s eyes trailed over Ginny, at first to check her over for life-threatening injury as Evelyn apparently feared, but then to take in Ginny’s choice in sleepwear.

After getting back last night, it had been all Ginny could do to shower and brush her teeth before collapsing into bed, let alone put on appropriate pajamas. She guessed she could consider herself lucky that she’d put clothes on at all—she’d been too concerned with keeping hotel security from being called to consider what she was wearing before racing to the door—not that the tight running shorts and loose tank top she had on were much better.

Ginny fidgeted a little and his gaze snapped immediately back to her face, guilty. He covered that up quickly with a quirk of his eyebrow. “You gonna let me in after I came all this way to make sure you weren’t dying?”

She didn’t budge, regarding him suspiciously. “Obviously I’m not dying. Do you really need to come in?”

“What kind of hospitality is that?” he scoffed.

“I’m not the one who invited you over,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest and wincing at the pull in her elbow.

It was too much to hope that Mike hadn’t seen it, but Ginny wasn’t ready to see the concern on his face or answer any questions, so she directed her gaze to her feet.

“Maybe not, but I did bring you food,” he finally replied.

That piqued her interest. Shyly, she peeked up at him. “What kind?”

Mike rolled his eyes and Ginny felt a rush of fondness for him sweep through her, nearly dissipating the embarrassment.

“Thai from that place you like. The one—”

“In El Cajon?”

“That’s the one,” he agreed with a huff. Probably for the way she hadn’t let him finish on his own. “Now, are you going to let me and this feast inside, or do I have to tell Evelyn you’re refusing visitors?”

The food would have been more than enough reason to let him in, especially since Ginny had gotten pretty sick of the offerings on the Omni room service menu. But the added threat of Evelyn, whom she loved dearly, barging her way into the suite and demanding answers sealed the deal.

“Fine,” she allowed, stepping aside.

As Mike passed by, the smell of the food hit Ginny’s nose and went straight to her stomach. It rumbled. Loud.

Her captain laughed, looking back over his shoulder at her as he set the bag down on the coffee table. “Haven’t you eaten yet today? It’s nearly noon.”

Her stomach growled again at the reminder. Futilely pressing her hands into the grumbling beast, she replied, “I was asleep.” 

“It’s nearly noon,” Mike repeated, clearly incredulous. Which, Ginny supposed, was fair. It wasn’t often that she even slept past seven. 

“I had a hard workout yesterday,” she muttered, taking a seat on the couch and inspecting the spread. Pad thai, egg rolls, pineapple fried rice, and red curry was quite the offering. Mike had definitely come prepared. “You made sure they didn’t—”

“Put in any cilantro, I know. Don’t need to hear that spiel again,” he finished, collapsing onto the couch next to her. Of course, he couldn’t just tease her about her cilantro aversion, though. “I’ve seen you hit a lot of hard workouts, but none that made you turn into a hermit, Baker.”

For a moment, Ginny didn’t respond, piling a paper plate that’d come with the food high and digging in. When Mike’s attention didn’t waver from her and her stomach’s complaints finally receded, she sighed. 

“I had my first bullpen session yesterday,” she admitted, immediately busying herself with fishing chunks of pineapple out of the carton of fried rice. 

“So soon?”

Ginny shrugged, not meeting his eye. 

When he continued, she could practically hear the suspicious squint. “You know I can just get the goods from Kiki or Buck, right?”

“They weren’t there.” 

Mike scoffed. “If you think the athletic trainers and support staff don’t gossip like a bunch of old hens, you haven’t been paying enough attention around the clubhouse.”

Ginny weighed the pros and cons of telling Mike herself versus letting him glean potentially inaccurate information from someone else. Finally, she decided to bite the bullet. 

“I bugged my PT guy into letting me in the bullpen a few weeks early,” she admitted, staring down at her plate. 

Mike hummed in thought before confessing, “After my first knee surgery, I tried to cut the recovery time in half.”

“What?” she exclaimed, whirling on him, self-pity out the window. “That’s fucking stupid, Mike.”

He winced. “No one ever taught you to pull your punches, huh?”

“Not when you don’t deserve it! You know what kind of damage you could have done? You’re lucky you can still play.”

“Hey, rookie,” he protested, smirking a little. “I said I tried cutting it down, not that I was all that successful.”

She snorted. “What happened?”

“Knocked myself on my ass trying to skip too many steps on the road to recovery,” he replied with an easy shrug before his eyes cut over to her. “Kinda like you did, it sounds like.”

Ginny’s shoulders hunched at the—accurate—assessment, but there wasn’t any judgement in Mike’s tone. Not that that made her feel much better. She’d done plenty of judging on her own. Still, she had it in her to admit when she’d made a mistake. 

“I maybe overdid it.”

Mike’s hooting laughter had Ginny’s jaw dropping in affront. 

“You maybe overdid it?” he howled, head tipping back to thunk against the wall. Ginny just crossed her arms over her chest, pouting, but waiting him out. Her elbow throbbed at the angle, but she didn’t really care. “Baker, anyone with eyes can see that your arm is killing you. You haven’t tried to slug me once today, and I’m sure you’ve thought about it at least twice.” 

Ginny just pouted. It’d been four times if she counted the incessant knocking before she realized it was him. 

“You’re gonna get there, Baker. You won’t let yourself back down,” he said, sounding so completely sure of his words, Ginny had to swallow down the lump in her throat. She dared a glance at him, but for once, he was the one looking away. “And if, for some reason, you forget that, I’ll make sure to remind you.”

She sniffed. Not in an effort to hold back anything. Like tears. Just because she want to sniff. 

“We don’t all suffer from memory loss due to advanced age, Lawson.” 

Mike shook his head and rolled his eyes, but Ginny could see the smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. In retaliation, he snagged an egg roll off her plate and settled into the couch. 

“So what’s next on the Ginny Baker Mope-A-Thon?” he asked around a full mouth. Ignoring Ginny’s cringe and her good elbow digging into his arm, Mike continued, “You’ve ignored your calls and played hermit. I brought you food. You gonna go run a cool 15k? Get on the bike and do the hill setting, just for kicks?”

Ordinarily, that was exactly what she’d do: work her body hard enough that she didn’t have the energy to overthink anything. But the prospect of leaving her room and having to turn on that in-quotes Ginny Baker, even just for whoever happened to be in the hotel gym right now, sounded truly awful. 

“I was actually planning on not getting out of bed, but you showing up sank that plan,” she replied, turning so she could lean against the arm of the couch. If it made it easier to watch Mike, too, then that was just a nice little side benefit. Especially when Mike mirrored her, pulling one thick thigh up onto the cushion and crossing his bare, beefy arms over his chest. God bless rolled up shirt sleeves. He looked too hot for his own good, frowning faintly at her. For her own good. So, she continued, “Now, I’m thinking I don’t get off this couch for the next few hours, catch up on all the TV I’ve missed.”

Mike whistled low. “Tall order. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you watch something that’s not on ESPN or FS1. ” 

Ginny ignored him, snagging the remote from the coffee table and turning on the TV to display her neglected Netflix profile. 

After a few hours, making their way through old episodes of Parks and Recreation, Mike throwing Ginny amused glances as she cackled at all the bits she didn’t remember or maybe hadn’t even seen, they’d migrated out of their corners, closer together. Well, Ginny’d migrated out of her corner and Mike hadn’t said anything about it. He simply lifted his arm and let her mold herself into his side. When she was comfortable, he dropped it around her shoulders, his big hand falling to gently cup her elbow, which was still sore. The heat from his fingers, or maybe it was just the heat her body was putting off being so close to him, helped relax the muscle. The pain finally beginning to ebb, Ginny allowed herself to relax, too. 

Maybe a little too much. 

Ginny lost track of how many episodes they’d watched, but by the time she thought about it, she found that she’d made herself completely comfortable. Practically on top of Mike. Her head was cushioned on his thigh, hand curled almost possessively over his knee. She’d be more embarrassed for the unconscious way she’d claimed his lap, but Mike didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his hand skated in broad, lazy circles on her back. 

It had been a long time since she’d felt so… at peace. And on the same day she’d woken up and felt like everything was more than a little pointless.

She tilted her head back just enough to eye him suspiciously. “How are you so good at this?”

He didn’t have to ask what she meant, though Ginny wasn’t quite sure she knew, herself. With a quirk of his lips, which from this angle somehow looked even softer, he replied, “I was married.”

“And divorced.”

“Nice,” he sneered with enough heat to make her feel bad.

“I can’t imagine anyone leaving you,” she admitted after refocusing her attention on the TV, quiet enough that maybe he hadn’t heard.

He did

“Well, that makes one of us.”

Instinctively, her fingers curled tighter around his leg and her head shifted, not quite a nuzzle, on his thigh. The hand rubbing circles on her back stuttered for a breath before resuming its lazy, easy path. After a few strokes, it came to a stop in the dip of her waist, fingers curling over the bottom of her ribs. 

Ginny was glad she was facing the TV. Mostly so she wouldn’t miss Ron wiping out on the grass. 

But also so Mike wouldn’t see the goofy grin spread across her face. 

Above her, though, a similar smile made itself at home on Mike’s face. 

They remained twined together on the couch all through the afternoon and into the evening. They finished what was left of the Thai food rather than make themselves get up for more. If they got up, then there was no way they could make it back to the same position without admitting they’d done it on purpose. Neither was quite ready for that.

Soon, sleepy and full and safe, Ginny’s heavy eyelids drifted shut and she lost the battle for consciousness. 

When she woke, her suite was dark and she was laying flat on the couch cushions. Dimly, she could make out Mike’s form crouching in front of her. 

Though she couldn’t see his smile, she could hear it when he said, “Come on, rook. Don’t know if my knees can manage getting you into your room on their own.”

Sleepily, she nodded, pushing herself upright with a yawn and a stretch. When she was on her feet, she held her hand out to Mike. In the long moment it took for him to slide his hand into hers, Ginny’s eyes adjusted to the dark. The look on his face nearly knocked the breath out of her chest. 

It really went when he stood to his full height, close enough that their chests nearly brushed against each other. His free hand came up, brushing a stray curl away from her face. 

Was this really going to happen? 

“I should probably go,” he murmured, and Ginny’s heart dropped. 

“Oh. Um, yeah,” she replied, pulling away. 

In spite of his words, Mike’s fingers tightened around hers.

They stood for a breath, Ginny staring down at their clasped hands before daring to look him in the face. When she did, though, there was none of the condescending sympathy she feared.

“What do you need, Ginny?” he rumbled, his own voice a little heavy. Had he fallen asleep, too, or just let her pass out in his lap for hours? His eyes darted down to her mouth and her heart began to thunder again. His broad thumb stroked over the back of her knuckles. “Say the word and it’s yours.”

“Just you,” she breathed. “I just want you.”

His smile, when it came, bloomed so beautifully on that bearded face she’d come to love. Ginny couldn’t help but smile back, relieved and thrilled for all Mike hadn’t yet said anything. 

“Then I’m all yours.”

They were still smiling when Ginny closed the short distance, kissing Mike for all she was worth. 

She would’ve kept kissing him if it weren’t for the jaw-cracking yawn that tore through her, in spite of the fact that she’d already spent much of the day sleeping. 

Mike pulled away, chuckling, “Let’s get you into bed, all right?”

The utter fondness in his voice and the way his arms tightened around her kept Ginny from being too annoyed. When he started dancing her backwards, towards the bedroom, she had to laugh, too. Mike grinned, twirling her under his arm for show. When she spun back towards him, Ginny went up onto her tiptoes to steal one last kiss before she collapsed into bed. 

She didn’t give up her grip on Mike’s hand as she burrowed into the covers. In fact, she tugged, urging him down onto the mattress with her. He gave in easily enough, having lost his shoes much earlier. Grudgingly, Ginny let go of him, just long enough that he could shuck off his jeans and flannel shirt. 

When he finally lay down beside her, she wasted no time in curling into his side. His warm solidity filled her with heated expectation. Expectation that she would have done something about if another yawn didn’t burst out of her mouth. 

Mike chuckled again and Ginny thumped him on the chest. 

“It’s not funny,” she mumbled, her eyelids already drooping as she basked in the coziness of her bed with Mike Lawson in it. 

“It’s a little funny,” was his response, as slow and sleepy as she felt. 

Any argument she could have made faded as Ginny gave herself over to the sweet pull of sleep.

Sure, she didn’t know what would happen with her recovery or if she’d make it back onto the Padres roster by the time Spring Training ended, but that seemed a little less daunting now. Now that she had Mike on and by her side. 

And for now, that was more than enough. 

[sinsiriuslyemo]

So sorry for the late post you guys!! Here is the new episode of Cuba v DR! Izzy’s hurting after her fight with Katie, Eddie takes it way too far this time, and if  you weren’t sure about Roxie and Rafael, we have a feeling after this episode you’ll be swooning just as much as Rafael is over her!! Check out @missjennifercole for episode 33 tomorrow morning!! Seven episodes left, and we guarantee, the season finale will leave you speechless!

EPISODE 32

In the morning Roxie kissed him goodbye as he walked her back to her room. “You fancy grabbing something to eat tonight?”

“I would love to,” he said softly, kissing her again. “I really liked waking up with you this morning,” he added carefully. He knew he and Izzy were leaving in just two short days, and that it wasn’t in his best interest to grow too attached to someone, but he couldn��t help the way she made him feel. “I know it’s probably not the best idea to...I mean we’re leaving soon and...I just really like you, and I want to make the most of the time we do have together.”

“I like you too,” she said with a warm smile. She leaned in and gave him a kiss before she smiled and went inside. “I'll see you tonight,” she blushed and blew him a kiss before closing the door.

He was on cloud nine as he rode the elevator back up to their suite. He arrived back at the hotel room just as Lila was stepping out, still in her gold sequined dress and makeup from the night before, holding her stiletto heels in her hands as she smiled at him.

“Hi Mr. Barba.”

“Lila,” he replied, nodding at her. “Did you guys already have breakfast?” he asked.

She chuckled, “no, Izzy is in the shower, I have to head out to prep for my next gig. Will you tell her that I'm really sorry I had to leave and I had...an amazing night? Will you also tell her I'm sorry for what my ex did?” She was already walking towards the elevator as she spoke, clearly in a hurry.

“What do you mean, what he did?” he asked, but she was already in the elevator, headphones over her ears, and he went inside quickly. “Izzy?!” he called out, moving towards the bathroom and gently knocking on the door.

Izzy opened the door, again, only half of her face showing as she peeked out the door. “Yeah?”

He carefully pushed the door further open and widened his eyes when he saw the dark purple bruise on her cheek bone.

“Jesus Christ, what happened?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

“Lila’s boyfriend took us to a club, her and I were dancing together and he got jealous… So he decked me and Lila dumped him on the spot. What about you?” she asked, nodding to his own black eye.

“Some joker down at the bar was harassing Roxie,” he answered dismissively, still looking at her face. “He hit you?” Rafael growled. “He better hope and pray that I don’t get my hands on him,” he added, softening his gaze after a minute as he gingerly pressed his thumb against it a little. “It’s swollen, you should get some ice on that.”

She shook her head, “it's fine,” she said softly. “Katie and I broke up,” she whispered sadly, burying her face against his chest.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he whispered, hugging her tightly. “And I’m sorry I was...not available, I should’ve been and I feel terrible about it,” he added, kissing the top of her head.

She just hugged him, sniffling as she cuddled into him and finally cried against him, sobbing into his chest.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered. “I know it hurts, but it’s gonna be okay, I promise.” He let his chin rest on the top of her head. “Hey, why don’t you get dressed. We’ll go out, we’ll take a tour of a museum, grab something to eat, maybe get you some new clothes?” he suggested, looking down at her. “Hm? Whatever you want, this’ll be your day.”

She sniffled and nodded, wiping her eyes and shuffling to her bedroom to get dressed and ready.

When you woke up in the morning, you smiled, your face resting on Nevada's chest. Still sleeping, he pulled you closer to him, turning his head to rest his cheek against your forehead and sighing contently.

You smiled and snuggled into him, stroking your fingers absently up and down his chest. For the first time in a long time, things felt really good.

“TIO!!!!” Eddie yelled from downstairs.

“Mami, go throw him out the window,” Nevada mumbled softly to you, eyes still closed as his free hand came to stroke over your arm on his chest.

You giggle and kiss Nevada’s jaw before sitting up and tugging on clothes as you hurried downstairs. “Your tio is sleeping, que pasa, mi amor?” You stroke his hair and kiss his forehead.

“He has to take me back to the doctor for my follow up,” Eddie replied.

You nodded, “pero, that isn't until noon, what's the rush? Do you want breakfast?” You smile at him softly.

“I wanna get it over with,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “I’m not hungry, I can eat a bagel later,” he added.

“Well that's not how appointments work, mi amor. You go when they tell you to go. Now sientate, I'm cooking, no arguments.” You push him gently into the kitchen and sit him down as you turn on the stove and start to cook him eggs.

Nevada opened his eyes, not able to get back to sleep without your warmth beside him, and he rolled out of bed and tugged on his jeans, moving down the stairs. As he walked into the kitchen, he stuck his index finger in his mouth and wiggled it in the shell of Eddie’s ear as he walked by, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Morning mi amor,” he whispered against your neck, dropping a kiss there and nuzzling your ear.

You grin as you turn and give him a long kiss, “morning,” you whisper back.

“Tio that was fucking gross,” Eddie groaned, wiping the saliva out of his ear.

“Oye, watch your mouth,” Nevada said sternly, turning to look at his nephew. “I’m not kidding no more cursing in this house, me entiendes?” He turned back to you and kissed you again. You grin and lean in, tangling your fingers in his hair as you deepen this kiss.

“Get a room,” Eddie groaned.

“We have a room.” You said firmly. “In fact, we own all the rooms in here last time I checked,” you look to Nevada for confirmation.

“That’s right, speaking of which, you owe rent next week,” he said, looking back at Eddie with a smirk.

“Seriously?” Eddie groaned and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, what you think I said that just to hear myself talk?” Nevada asked. “You broke my door, mijo.”

“You ripped the door off the hinges!” Eddie glared and walked up to Nevada. “This is bullshit!”

“And from now on everytime you cuss, I want a dollar,” Nevada said, holding out his hand. “Dale, chico. Right now.”

Eddie glared, “no! Fuck you!” He pushed Nevada backwards hard, sending him back into you as you shrieked, palm having gone flat onto the burner.

Eddie's eyes widened in horror. Nevada looked back at you for a moment.

“You okay?” he asked.

You didn't answer, moving to the sink to run your hand under cold water, searing pain bringing tears to your eyes as you sniffle. “Yeah,” you grit out. “It was on high, it got me really good.”

Eddie tried to rush over to you. “Tia. I'm so sorry!”

“You better be sorry, what the fuck were you thinking?” Nevada growled, making a face as he reached into his pocket, taking out his wallet and putting a dollar on the counter. “You know she’s pregnant, you wanna punch her in the fucking stomach too?” he asked, taking another dollar and slamming it on the counter. “Oye, Eddie, one more move like that--”

“Nevada,” you half sob, hoping your voice filled with need for him is enough to take his attention off of Eddie. You knew it was an accident. Your husband growled, moving into the guest bathroom to grab to first aid kit, and coming back to pull your hand from under the water, inspecting your palm.

“Come under the light, let’s put some of this sh--burn cream on,” he said, looking up at Eddie. “You got anything to say?”

Eddie moved over to you, nearly throwing up at the smell of burned flesh as he knelt beside you. “Tia, I am so, so sorry. Oh my god, I never meant to hurt you,” he whispered and hugged you tight.

“I know baby,” you say softly, kissing a tear off his cheek, the kid felt terrible. “It's fine, I'm fine.” You winced as Nevada dabbed some of the burn relief onto your palm before he wrapped it in gauze.

“You’ll be okay,” he said softly. “We’ll check it later tonight and see how it’s doing, pero keep that on until then, okay?” he added, giving Eddie another look as he stood up. “Things are gonna change around here, me entiendes? We’re gonna be a happy fucking family. Everybody’s gonna be happy, I’m gonna be happy, you’re gonna be happy, and you’re gonna be happy. We’re all gonna be so fucking happy, we’re gonna need plastic surgery to remove our Goddamn smiles, me entiendes?”

You sniffled and smiled at him then held your arms out to Eddie who ran into them, sniffling against you and begging for forgiveness.

“Shhh, it's okay, mi amor, estoy bien, entiendes? It was an accident, just… Stop this nonsense, you're scaring your tio and I. We want you happy pero, we also need you to be respectful as you live in our house.” You stroke his hair with your good hand as you let him calm against you. You look up softly at Nevada and smile mouthing, ‘I'm okay.’

“Mijo, this has to stop. We don’t know what to do anymore, this is getting out of control. Tell us what you need from us,” Nevada said, finally calming down.

“I don't know…” He mumbled against you, still hugging you tight. “I'm just angry.”

“At what, love?”

“I don't know,” he repeated.

You stroked his hair and sighed. “Maybe you just need a break.” You whispered. “You work so hard on school and at the center. How about you and I drive and look at some colleges tomorrow, no work, no school, just something fun,” you stroked his hair. “Nevada can come too, I know you want him to,” Eddie smiled a bit and nodded.

“Can it...just be me?” He asked softly. “I love Lily, she's the best little sister on the planet but...can it just be me tomorrow?”

You smiled and nodded, looking at Nevada for confirmation. He nodded his head softly.

“I can stay with her tomorrow,” he offered softly.

“I want you to come too tio…” Eddie mumbled. The kid probably just wanted some attention on him, you had to admit, between Lily and now the new babies, even you worried that sometimes Eddie got lost in the shuffle.

“Okay, well then Amber and Omar will take Lily to the park, and we'll go drive down to look at schools, okay, mi amor?”

His face lit up and he nodded eagerly. Maybe all he needed was a little more attention on him. You could give him that.

“Alright. Do me a favor, go get la princesa up, okay?”

You stood after a moment and watched Eddie run upstairs to wake Lily for breakfast.

“Did you see that awesome parenting duo?” You whispered with a grin. “We are fucking unstoppable.” You take a dollar out of Nevada's wallet and set it on the counter.

“Oye, get your own dollar,” he said with a chuckle. “We should get a jar for that, too. Maybe when we have enough, we can all take a trip. Use our dirty mouths to let us have some fun for a change,” he mused.

You smiled and nodded, “I love that idea.” You crook a finger on your good hand, tugging him closer. “Now where were we? I think we were saying good morning,” you purred.

Rafael waved the spoonful of ice cream in front of Izzy’s face, trying to get her to smile.

“Come on, Iz. You know you want some ice cream,” he sang playfully. “I’m gonna smear it on your face if you don’t take a bite.”

She shook her head, “no because you totally used in that whipped cream on Roxie last night, I know cause I had to wipe up the mess on the kitchen floor. Ew.”

“Okay, this is not the same can, we...used all of the other can,” he mumbled. “I can’t even believe you would think I’d use whipped cream from the same can. How about some ice cream without whipped topping?” he asked.

“No thank you,” she mumbled, staring out the window. “I miss Katie…” She sighed and grabbed her phone. “I'm gonna call her, apologize, tell her I can’t stand to live without her.”

“You didn’t seem to miss her that much last night,” he pointed out carefully. “You didn’t even tell me what happened between you two, what happened?”

“We had a stupid fight, I told her if she didn't like it, then she should just dump me...she said fine.” She whispered softly. “I love her, and I was hurt, and Lila and I connect, I feel like I've known her for...years. But we ended up just...sleeping last night.” Izzy blushed.

“Okay, so...just call Katie, and try to talk it out. If it was just a stupid fight and if she really cares about you, she’ll understand that you were just angry,” he said softly.

Izzy sniffled and shrugged, “I guess,” she whispered softly. “I'm sorry I'm making this so hard…”

“I understand what you’re going through. It’s not fun, I know...Katie’s your first, that’s always the most intense,” he answered, smiling softly. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

She just snuggled close to Rafael, “I think I just wanna stay in bed today,” she mumbled. “Go out and hang with Roxie, I kinda wanna be alone,” she kissed his cheek.

“Are you sure?” he asked gently, kissing her forehead. “I wanna be here for you.”

“You are,” she whispered with a smile. “Just...I actually kinda wanna sort this out alone, I wanna wallow a little bit,” she hugged him before standing up. “I'll be back in the room, I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied, sighing softly. “I’ll call you in a little while, okay? Check on you,” he added. He didn’t want his sister to be alone, but also knew that it was part of the process after a breakup. Besides, he wasn’t even sure if Roxie was available or if she was at work.

Hola cariño :) Are you busy?

He half expected her to tell him that maybe she was at work or school, and that he would have to find something for him to do alone to kill some time.

Kind of? But I could use some company ;)

He smiled to himself, messaging her back.

I don’t mean to interrupt, I was going to grab some pastries and coffee and wanted to ask if you would join me.

I would love that.

She responded almost immediately.

But… It's laundry day. And I'm afraid I don't have any clothes to put on…

He could practically hear the purr in her words. His mouth gently fell open, and he sighed softly, texting her back.

Would you still like me to keep you company while you responsibly launder your wardrobe?

He hit send by accident, meaning to change his wording to something less...stiff. How was it that she still found him attractive enough to have sex with when he constantly sounded as though he were visiting from the 1940s?

It would be my pleasure to keep you entertained whilst I launder my clothing. How kind and courteous of you to suggest such a delightful treat.

He chuckled under his breath, and made his way to her room, taking a deep breath before he knocked softly. Nervously, he ran a hand over his hair. His gel had exploded in his luggage, and he hadn’t bothered to purchase any when they arrived. So he hadn’t been geling it back the way he would back home, and his vacation hair was something that had taken some getting used to.

For the second time since they met, Roxie opened the door completely naked, looking him over and smirking. “Hello,” she greeted and nodded him inside.

“Hi,” he answered, stepping inside. “How’s laundry going?” he asked, trying to keep his eyes from roaming over her form. He didn’t want her to think that he was only interested in spending time with her for the sex.

“Oh it's going,” she hummed thoughtfully as she strolled over to him and cupped his face. “I don't think it's very fair if I'm the only one naked, do you?” She whispered with a smirk.

“You do make a valid point,” he replied, smirking. He pulled off his polo and let it fall the to the floor before he went to get his jeans off.

“Let me,” she whispered, unbuckling his jeans and tugging them down, then his boxer briefs, licking her lips and helping him step out of them.

“Come here,” she whispered and took his hand, leading him to her bedroom.

He followed her into the bedroom and smiled when she turned back to him, his hands cradling her face, thumbs stroking over her cheeks as he kissed her mouth gently.

“We can just watch a movie or something,” he whispered, moving some hair away from her face.

“We could totally do that,” she whispered with a smile, “or you could make love to me on the balcony…” She hummed softly.

He groaned, smiling at her and kissing her again. “Are you just using me for sex?” he teased, peppering some kisses on her neck, arms wrapping around her waist.

She nodded, “That and so you can debate classic literature with me,” she stepped out onto the balcony.

“Well as long as you appreciate my intellect as well, I can hardly complain,” he replied, following her and looking around nervously to make sure they were alone. “This is a first for me. I’ve never been one for public nudity.”

“No one's around,” she smiled and kissed him. “And don't look at anyone but me,” she whispered and leaned up against the wall, crooning a fingers for him to come close. “Just me.”

He closed the space between them, kissing her deeply and pressing her up against the wall as his hands slid over her skin. He kissed his way down to her breasts, taking her nipples into his mouth, one at a time before he got to his knees in front of her. Nibbling over her tummy, his stroked her legs, groaning against her soft, silky skin.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, bringing first one leg onto his shoulder, then the other as he looked up at her.

She looked down at him, smiling and tangling her fingers in his hair as she arched her back and moaned softly. “Rafi,” she blushed and stroked her fingers over his face. “My sweet Rafael,” she smiled.

Smiling up at her, he licked and sucked at her center, tongue sliding back and forth on her slit as his eyes cast themselves upwards to watch her writhing above him. He moaned against her core, sending vibrations over her body, his hands wrapped over her thighs.

She moaned loudly, arching her back and trying to press against his mouth as much as she could as he licked and tasted her.

“Oh my god, Rafael...oh yes.”  She whimpered and let him dip his tongue into her center. He sank his velvet muscle inside her as far as it would reach and thrust his tongue in and out a few times, groaning against her before he pulled out and flicked it rapidly over her entrance.

“Que sabroso tu eres, cariño,” he purred. “I do enjoy pleasing you, young lady,” he added playfully, sucking her clit between his lips again.

She gasped, coming at his words, tugging his hair as she fell apart against his mouth. He moaned as her sweet taste flooded his senses and licked up every bit of her essence with a smirk. He gently set her down on her feet, using his hands to steady her and not taking his mouth away until she was standing again. Groaning as he kissed his way back up her body, Rafael grinned and playfully nibbled on her skin.

She kissed him, hungrily capturing their mouths together as she pulled him close and kissed him. “I don't know any Spanish, but I googled it so… Hazme el amor?”

He smirked down at her and hummed, kissing her again as he pulled her up, letting her wrap her legs around his waist.

“That’s very impressive,” he purred, laying her down on the chaise that was on the balcony and reaching between them to press himself against her entrance. Sinking into her, he moaned at the way her sheath gripped him so tightly, lowering his gaze to watch his cock disappear inside her. “Very good pronunciation,” he whispered against her mouth, giving her a moment to adjust to his size.

She gasped and moaned against his mouth, kissing him hungrily as she tangled her fingers in his hair. She knew statistically speaking, at least four people had seen them on this balcony. She didn't care, not with him. What they were doing, felt like art of its own kind. “Rafael,” she whispered and kissed him. “Keep looking at me, I want to be the only thing in your world in this moment,” she whispered.

“You are,” he answered honestly, kissing her deeply.

From the moment their lips had touched, he’d completely forgotten that they were out on the balcony, in the open. Rooms on either side of them where someone could walk out at anytime, but all of it had slipped away. All he saw, all he heard, and all he felt right then was her, and her alone. His body moved against hers, slowly building her towards another orgasm as he looked into her hazel eyes, their noses brush against each other’s. Pressing his face against her neck, he moved a little more insistently, panting over her skin as soft grunts and moans escaped him.

“Rafael,” she gasped, moving her fingers from his hair to cup his face and turn so their foreheads were pressed to each other, a chance to look into each other's souls before she smiled and kissed him. “Come with me, papi,” she whispered, kissing him again and again before finally falling over the edge, pussy clenching tight around him as she melted into one of the most romantic kisses possible.

He groaned against her mouth, his body responding to her gentle whisper, and his orgasm rolled through him, and into her. Moaning with every thick, hot stream that shot from his organ, he gradually slowed his movements to prolong their mutual releases. His hips came to a stop, but he stayed nestled safely inside her as his mouth worshipped hers. Nuzzling her nose with his, he smiled down at her.

“You're like something out of my dreams, Roxie,” he whispered to her.

She tangled her fingers back in his hair and just smiled as she kissed him. “Then is it wrong to hope that you don't wake up just yet?”

“No,” he answered in a whisper. “Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly.” He sealed his Hughes quote with another soft, deep kiss, holding her close to him.

“Hold fast to dreams, for when dreams go, life is a barren field, frozen with snow.” She kissed him right back. Smiling down at her, he slid his arms under her back and pulled her up to sit, straddled in his lap.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he whispered. “I wanna take you to bed,” he added, kissing her nose.

She smiled and wrapped her legs around his waist, “What's your favorite line of poetry?” She breathed. “I want to hear it, whisper it against me like a prayer. Make me believe in it, the way you do.”

“I have so many,” he whispered, standing and swinging his foot over the chaise to carry her inside and laying her down on her bed. “But the one that first comes to mind?” He kissed her gently, bringing his mouth to her ear. “He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.”

“The moment I met you, a poem came to mind,” she admitted shyly as she cupped his face and kissed him. “But quoting my favorite book to me? You better watch out Rafael, you have everything that would make a girl fall in love,” she gave him a soft, almost sad smile. “Perhaps another lifetime.”

“Let’s not think about what’s real and what’s not right now,” he whispered, letting his forehead rest against hers before he kissed her. “Let’s just lay here, in our own little slice of heaven as long as we can, before our feet have to touch the ground again,” he added, snuggling against her.

She grinned and nodded. “Don't think. It complicated things. Just feel, and if it feels like home, then follow its path,” she whispered. “That's the poem that makes me think of you.”

“That’s beautiful,” he replied, smiling down at her. “Who is that?” he asked.

“R.M. Drake, his poetry isn't very well known but…his words speak to me. So I'm following the path that feels like home right now,” she leaned in and kissed him.

He smiled against her lips, rolling so they were laying side by side, facing each other and still connected blissfully at the mouth. Pulling her close to him, he tucked her head against his chest.

“What do you think the odds are of us meeting each other when we did, how we did...I don’t ever want to wake up from this dream, and yet we’ve had a shelf life from the start. How is it possible to feel so much, with only so much time to really feel any of it?” He looked down at her, almost sadly, one hand moving to stroke her cheek. “Couldn't we just build a new reality?” he whispered.

“I think you can be in love with a moment in time,” she whispered. “I think you run into a series of different kinds of love throughout your life, ours is just a short one…”

He smiled a little, trying to hold back the emotions begging to burst free from his heart. His throat felt full and he swallowed, decided that he would remember this moment, remember her for the rest of his life.

“We have one last day together after today...and there’s so much more I could show you,” he added, trying to lighten the conversation a little, smiling softly at her.

She smiled, “When they let's keep dreaming a little longer,” she whispered and held him close, losing herself in him.

[becoming-ayden]

Detailed description of surgery day

Hey guys! So, I had top surgery yesterday with Dr. Johnson at Baystate hospital in Springfield, MA. I said in previous post that I’d talk about it more in detail so here we go!

I was scheduled to arrive at 12:15pm, and I got there with my parents at about noon. We checked in at the desk on the main floor and did some paperwork then went upstairs for another check in to get my tracking number so my parents could locate me later on. After that we probably waited 30-40 minutes in the waiting room. Someone came out and called my name, did my weight and height, and then took me to my pre-op room. The actual pre-op wing was full so I did my pre-op stuff in the post-op unit. I changed into a gown and was allowed to keep my boxers on. They give you some socks to wear too that have grips so you don’t slip while walking around. Maureen was my pre-op nurse. She asked me a bunch of medical history questions and had me sign some more papers. My anesthesiologist came in and gave me the run down of what will happen, then left and came back with a sco-patch that I had asked for (helps to prevent nausea or vomiting after surgery). After that, my nurse put in my IV line in my hand. For anyone worried about it hurting, they give you a quick shot of lidocaine to numb your hand first. It pinches for a sec but then it’s over. My surgeon came in and had me sign more papers and then marked up my chest. And let me say she’s a perfectionist. If she didn’t like how something looked then she re-drew it. I loved the attention to detail.

Then she left and my two OR nurses came in and explained what will happen from beginning to end. My anesthesiologist came back in, and administered a mild sedative to help me relax before going in (from what I’ve read they do this for everyone). After that, I said bye to my parents and got wheeled down to the OR. If you’ve never had surgery before and think the OR is super dark and scary like in tv shows, it’s not. It was brightly lit and there was stuff everywhere. In my sedated state I remember laughing to myself about how the overhead lights looked like disco balls. They have you scoot over onto the OR table and there’s a nice heated pad or blanket and they put a weighted blanket on you and some cushion under your neck and legs. It was actually quite comfortable. I don’t even remember having the oxygen mask put on or falling asleep. I woke up in post-op (different bed from before). I then had my post-op nurse Lisa. She asked me about my pain on the 1-10 scale. I was feeling some pain at about a 7 but I could have been exaggerating tbh. It took a bit for my pain to go down so they ended up giving me 3 doses of pain meds in my IV. My throat was really dry and sore from being intubated plus the sco-patch can cause dry mouth so I was very excited when she started feeding me ice chips. After some waiting my parents were able to come back and see me. We waited around for a bit before I was taken up to my overnight room. Even though I’m 21 they put me in the pediatric wing which I didn’t mind. The only loud thing I heard was one kid crying for a little bit but nothing ridiculous. I was able to tune it out. I was introduced to the nurse I’d have for the night and they did vitals and checked my chest and were satisfied. I had no dietary restrictions so I was able to order whatever I wanted from the cafeteria menu. After a little while my parents went to their hotel for the night (I preferred being alone for the night, not sure why but I did). Oh also, the sco-patch can sometimes make it difficult to urinate at first but don’t get frustrated like I did. I had to pee pretty bad but couldn’t at first. I got back into bed and drank more water and eventually I was peeing every 45 minutes. At about 8:00 At around 9 or 10pm my nurse unhooked the IV hose from my needle (they keep the needle in just in case you need IV meds but I didn’t need any. It doesn’t hurt to keep it in). He said I should stop having to pee so frequently now that I wasn’t taken in IV fluids which was true. I still have been peeing more than usual just because I’ve been constantly drinking water and tea. I didn’t sleep through the whole night. I was sleeping kinda lightly, probably because I just have a super hard time sleeping on my back. The nurses had to come in every couple hours to check in and do vitals anyways. This morning I met the day shift nurse who would finish my care and discharge me. They changed my dressings and emptied my drains. After that, she had me walk around the hallways a few times with another nurse to get blood moving and make sure I wasn’t too dizzy or nauseous. Then when I got back to my room I got my IV taken out and signed my discharge papers and was free to go. They give you a bunch of materials for recovery at home so don’t worry about buying a ton of shit like I did. I had a 2 hour drive home which was kinda rough but I was in and out of sleep for most of it. They wanted us to stop at a rest stop halfway so I could get out and walk some more. Then I got home and have been resting in bed ever since!

TL;DR: I had an incredible experience with Dr. Johnson and her team. Everyone was so nice and accommodating. I highly recommend going to her.

[newstfionline]

Stories from Irma: Feeling powerless as the storm finally arrives

By Patricia Sullivan, Leonard Shapiro, Perry Stein and Joel Achenbach, Washington Post, September 10, 2017

ESTERO, Fla.--The forecasters had fiddled with the storm track for days, nudging it to the east and then pulling it back to the west, but when Hurricane Irma finally blew in Sunday, it reminded everyone that when a tropical cyclone reaches a certain size, it simply can’t miss.

This storm was nearly as big as the state of Florida, which is why everything but the Panhandle was under a hurricane warning. Irma’s broad wind field also meant that when the winds picked up, they stayed up as the storm howled northward.

Even cities far outside the eye of the storm found themselves caught in an atmospheric blender that had no off switch. Patience suddenly became as important as a sturdy roof and reliable drainage.

“Anyone think we overreacted with the evacuation order?” Michael Hernández, spokesman for Miami-Dade County, asked late Sunday morning at the county Emergency Operations Center.

As he spoke, one TV monitor showed a huge, collapsed construction crane downtown, draped on a building as though it had melted in the rain, and another showed a wide river of floodwater racing down Brickell Avenue, Miami’s financial district and once the neighborhood of pop star Madonna.

The storm’s westward shift was good news for South Florida’s Gold Coast but very bad news for Key West, as well as Naples, Fort Myers, Port Charlotte, Sarasota, St. Petersburg and Tampa--table-flat waterfront communities that have boomed in recent decades with millions of new residents but haven’t gained more high ground.

In Estero, Dianne and Riley Abshire, who moved to Florida six years ago from Ottawa, Ohio, waited for Irma in a home darkened by hurricane shutters. Winds at the time gusted to 45 miles per hour. Hibiscus trees bent to the ground. Tornado watches and warnings flashed across their television screens. They chose to stay in their home because they worried about traffic getting out of the state and because Riley Abshire is recovering from surgery.

“I feel like I’m in a sardine can, and I don’t like it,” said Dianne Abshire, 62. “My husband said he’ll duct-tape me to a chair if I try to open the front door.”

In Bonita Springs--between Naples and Fort Myers--on Sunday morning, streets that were empty but for a few emergency vehicles started filling with runoff that was not running off. Officials announced they would pull everyone off the roads at 11 a.m.

More than 30,000 people flocked to Collier County’s shelters, including about 4,000 in the massive Germain Arena, which was still accepting people at 10 a.m. But a wild rumor spread on social media that the arena was unsafe, and that set off “mass hysteria,” according to a Lee County spokesman. Tim Engstrom, communications specialist, said officials were trying to reassure residents that the venue was hardened against hurricanes. “We don’t have much information, but this is absolutely false,” Engstrom said as the hurricane approached steadily.

In Pasco County, north of Tampa, sheriff’s officers warned citizens not to shoot guns into the air after a Facebook page that suggested shooting Irma out of the sky went viral.

The lower half of the nation’s third-most-populous state went into lockdown as residents rode out the big blow and wondered when it would end. The storm took its time rolling in from the Caribbean. When it arrived, there was no mistaking what this was--not an ordinary line of storms but a true-blue hurricane, the powerful winds interrupted by even more powerful gusts and rain coming down in blinding quantities.

Everyone watched the slow-moving, ominous green blob that represented Irma on more than a dozen computer screens at the National Hurricane Center overnight Saturday. A handful of journalists, federal government workers, hurricane specialists: Everyone monitored the radar maps of the monstrous storm’s snail-paced path as it prepared to batter Florida.

Figuring out what the outskirts of the storm were doing right outside the building in Miami, however, was harder to determine.

“You hear the rain on the roof?” a videographer inside asked on Friday evening.

“I think that’s the AC,” someone responded.

“No, it’s the rain,” he said, this time pointing to the ceiling so everyone would listen more carefully.

“Yeah, it’s the AC,” the room decided.

The steel-clad National Hurricane Center was the best place to track the storm on a digital radar system but the worst to actually see and hear the storm in real life.

As soon as tropical storm-force winds kicked in Saturday evening, steel shutters closed over the building’s doors. No one was allowed in or out. Total lockdown.

Reporters slept on the floor as National Hurricane Center employees worked through the night, delivering updates on the top of every hour and answering the same questions over and over from television and radio hosts on the phone.

“How big will the storm surge be on the southwest coast of Florida?” the journalists would ask multiple times each hour.

“Ten to 15 feet,” Ed Rappaport, the acting director of the National Hurricane Center, would calmly respond, stressing again and again that this was a life-threatening hurricane.

As Rappaport addressed the nation, he said he had no firsthand knowledge of what the weather was doing outside his office.

“There are no windows here. I rely on the media to know what’s going on,” he said with a smile as he pointed to a local TV newscast playing above him.

The lights began flickering on and off at about 8 a.m. Sunday morning in the Pompano Beach High School cafeteria, which was serving as an evacuation shelter for about 225 people. An hour later, the building plunged into darkness, causing many people to gasp. But then the lights came on again, thanks to a generator that performed the way it was designed to.

Laurie and Steve Trinkle, their 12-year-old twin sons and Laurie’s 85-year-old mother, Mildred, went to the shelter shortly after noon Saturday but decided to vacate the crowded premises about 12 hours later. “I think we’ll be more comfortable at home as long as the power stays on,” Laurie Trinkle said.

It did not, at least at the shelter, and according to one of eight police officers on duty 24/7 in the building, it was lights out all around Pompano Beach and nearby towns.

The school generator was designed to keep the lights going, but that was all. The two big-screen televisions keeping evacuees informed about the storm went black. The scores of electrical outlets around the room were no longer working, nor were the microwave ovens and the refrigerators storing food. Perhaps most significantly, the air conditioning was out of service, as well.

Despite a sign on the front door warning everyone to stay inside, several people wandered into the wind, protected from the rain by an overhang, just to watch the palm trees swaying and palm fronds littering the lawn out front. Some just wanted to sneak a smoke, forbidden inside.

In much of South Florida, residents had been furiously preparing for the hurricane since Tuesday, if not earlier. The virtue of improved five-day hurricane-track forecasts is that people have more time to get ready. The downside is that a city could effectively shut down for the better part of a week.

Saturday was so off-and-on stormy, with such long patches of calm weather, that a person could easily have been lulled into thinking that Sunday would be easy. That illusion was punctured by raging weather before dawn.

A return to normalcy could take a while given that the storm knocked out power to nearly 2 million Florida Power & Light customers in South Florida alone.

A reconnaissance of the area by car Sunday morning revealed an eerily empty city, with stop signs flattened, palm fronds littering the streets, tree debris blowing around like tumbleweed.

The front doors were locked at the Aloft Hotel, which had a full house, including stranded international travelers.

But the hotel still had power: Breakfast was served; the coffee was fresh. The hotel has large windows, for excellent viewing of the storm.

“No fear, no pain,” said Sergio Pallette, 58, of Argentina. He and his wife were supposed to fly out Friday, but their flight was canceled because of the weather.

When will he go home?

“When they finish the hurricane,” he said.

Also up and about: storm-chasing journalists.

“I’ll be back in Guam by next week,” said Caroline Graham, a Los Angeles-based reporter for the United Kingdom’s Mail on Sunday, who had been covering the tension between the United States and North Korea before winding up at the Aloft to cover Irma.

She noted the dizzying pace of crises hitting the United States.

“Nobody’s talking about Harvey now. America’s crazy right now. Between Trump, Mother Nature and North Korea, I haven’t stopped.”