#Memory Foam Mattress Near Me

[relaxwellmatress]

Buy Memory Foam Mattresses in Hyderabad, India for a good sleep online at the best price on Relaxwell Mattresses & PU Foam. Our Foam mattress for bed comes with a free mattress protector. Shop Now-https://bit.ly/3wjpaCM

[faaun]

procrastination is starting to have its consequences finally

[royaloak-furniture]

What is the best mattress in India at an affordable price?

When it comes to selecting the best mattress in India that combines quality and cost, the Royaloak Queen Size Memory Foam Mattress is a standout choice. This mattress, known for its outstanding comfort and support, is intended to deliver a comfortable night's sleep at a reasonable price.

The Royaloak Queen Size Memory Foam Mattress is made of high-quality memory foam that conforms to your body shape, ensuring perfect spinal alignment and pressure alleviation. This means you may stop tossing and turning at night and wake up feeling refreshed and invigorated.

Not only does this mattress provide amazing comfort, but it is also built to last due to its sturdy structure and high-quality materials. Furthermore, given its low price, it's an excellent value for anyone in the market for a new mattress.

[almattress]

Premium Memory foam pillow (takes body shape) #mattress #foammattress

[norrizzandpia]

The Infamous Stream (LN4)

Summary: When Max streams and the chat goes wild for Lando and Y/n’s sappy love

Warnings: really nothing yall have at it (except for like one minor insinuation to sex? But its literally like two words tbh)

"Don't mind Y/n and Lando behind me. They fell asleep on my bed after being here for an hour." Max's voice cut through Y/n's unconscious state. Slowly, her mind noted Lando's chest against her forehead and his arms wrapped securely around her. His chest rose and fell at a slow pace and his lips rested right at the top of her head, slightly kissing her hair. If it wasn't for his hands refusing to let her go and the warmth that radiated off his body, Y/n would have gotten up and out of her sleeping position once her brain comprehended that Max wasn't speaking to himself, but to his chat on his stream. With his hoodie engulfing her body, she snuggled further into her boyfriend and tightened her arms around his neck.

"When they wake up, I'm going to tell them about all of you in here going crazy for boyfriend Lando." Max's booming laugh seemed to wake the boy in Y/n's arms as his arms around her tightened and the pressure of his lips against her head lessened.

Seeming to think she was still asleep, Lando whispered, "Quiet down, Max. You're gonna wake her up."

From her position against his chest, Y/n groggily murmured, "No, I'm awake."

Lando's hand came up to cradle the back of her head as she moved to look up at him, "How did we even fall asleep?" Her eyebrows furrowed together and Lando smiled down at her, finding her adorable moments after she had woken up from a nap.

Max chuckled, "Maybe because my bed is so comfortable."

Lando's eyes met Max's over Y/n's head, watching as the chat absolutely blew up over the couple, "No way, Y/n's bed is way more comfortable. She has one of those memory foam mattresses and everything."

"And how would you know that?" Max wiggled his eyebrows at the couple as Y/n blushed and stuffed her face back into Lando's chest.

Lando groaned as his head pulled back, "You wanker."

Finally, Y/n decided it was time to end the cuddling session that was being broadcast to thousands, so she pulled away from her boyfriend and hopped off the bed. However, she couldn't escape from the room quick enough seeing as Max ushered her and Lando over.

"Come on, you guys have got to see these comments." With Lando getting up from the bed and Max's hand hastily waving her face, Y/n took a closer look at the words rapidly appearing on the screen.

Lando_norizz

There is no way I just witnessed that sweet moment for free.

F1-loveeee

CAN WE PLZ TALK ABOUT THE PLACEMENT OF LANDOS HANDS??? IM SCREAMING

emma.loves.racing.

They're so priv abt their relationship i feel like i just watched something so intimate

landoismysoulmate

I have never in my life been so incredibly devastated to see two people be so happy and in love

Other comments continued to come in, but Y/n could only read a few. Each of them made her smile as fans talked about how happy Lando looked to be with her. The couple had decided early on that they would keep the majority of their time together private and to themselves, so Y/n could gather that the lovey-dovey moment everyone just witnessed was something entirely foreign. She wouldn't mention that Lando was an incredibly clingy boyfriend who always wanted to be near her or touching her whenever they were in close vicinity to one another and she definitely wouldn't mention that usually their cuddling sessions turned not-so-innocent after an hour or two. All she could do was smile up at the man who was already staring at her like she hung the stars and the moon just for him.

All of a sudden, Lando was hysterically laughing beside her as he pointed to a comment that was quickly disappearing behind all the other chats being sent in. Luckily, she was able to read the words before they were lost and when she did, she couldn't help but join her boyfriend in his hysterics.

Landohasnorizz

Lando heard the nickname lando norizz and said hold my beer

It was a sweet comment and Y/n was grateful the two weren't being bombarded by hateful remarks like some of the other drivers on the grid had to go through when they went public. One of the reasons why Lando had been so hesitant to announce her identity to the rest of the F1 world was because of all the potential hate she could get. However, after years together they realized they couldn't just keep it all a secret when they were likely to get married and live out the rest of their days together.

As if to cut through her overwhelming thoughts, Lando's hand came to rest around her waist as he smiled down at her and said, "I have no rizz. I really don't know how I got so lucky."

[lulublack90]

Prompt 31 - Age

@jegulus-microfic July 31, Word count 994

This is the final part of the Apple Core series

Previous part First part

James had been worried that Regulus would struggle to furnish his new flat and had offered to buy him what he needed, no strings attached. But Regulus had been smart. After he’d watched what happened to his brother, left penniless and with nothing but the clothes on his back, he made a contingency plan. Every pound he made went into a separate bank account to which only he had access and now had a healthy little nest egg, albeit a slightly smaller one after their shopping spree. 

James had sweet-talked the assistant in the furniture shop into giving Regulus a nice discount on the pieces he’d picked out. Everything was loaded up onto the truck as Regulus paid and was being unloaded by the time they’d walked the short distance back to the flat. 

“Did you buy the whole shop or something?” Sirius snorted as he waited on the street. 

“Something like that,” Regulus grinned. 

Sirius insisted on helping take the heavy items upstairs. So James suggested that Regulus wait on the street and keep an eye on his things.

It took an age to get everything upstairs. Sirius left them to unpack while he went to help Remus with the café.

“Wow, this sofa’s comfortable,” James said as he bounced up and down on it a few times, settling in.

“Hey, you can sit later, come and help me put the bed together,” Regulus ordered. James didn’t argue. He hopped up and followed Regulus into the bedroom. It was a bit of a squeeze putting it all together but eventually, there was a bed. 

“Now for the best bit,” James waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Regulus. Regulus jumped up and put his hands over the wriggling brows. “I meant unrolling the mattress. Gees Regulus get your head out of the gutter.” That earned him a few huffs and light smacks to his chest. He hauled the heavy box in and upturned it, letting the compressed mattress slowly slide out. “Want to do the honours?” He asked, holding up the little bag opener that came with the mattress. Regulus took it, and with his tongue poking out between his lips as he concentrated, he drew a long straight line down the plastic and watched as the squashy mattress expanded out of its casing. They both flopped onto it side by side. 

“I think I picked the right mattress. Regulus groaned as the memory foam cradled his body.

“I could get used to this,” James sighed, reaching his arms further up the bed until they brushed against the wooden headboard. 

“Oi, you two, if you’re shagging, stop and get down here, it’s barbecue time!” Sirius shouted up the stairs to them. With big sighs, James and Regulus reluctantly left the bed and trudged down the stairs. 

Sirius and Remus lived around the corner in a sweet little ground-floor flat that came with a garden. It was a lot bigger and a lot nicer than the one Regulus now lived in, but they’d put a lot of effort into making it that way. 

James walked straight through and started getting the barbecue set up. Sirius and Remus were useless when it came to getting the thing going and James quite enjoyed watching the fire light. Regulus came up behind him and watched as he piled the coals just right and added the firelighters. He stuck the long lighter in and clicked the button until the flame lit and held it near the firelighters. It didn’t take much and then heat blasted out of the base. 

“Want the tour?” He asked, waving at the flat. 

“Yeah, okay,” Regulus gave a half smile, but followed James back into the flat. He started in the living room. 

“They’ve got a very soft sofa as well,” James grinned, bouncing on it the same way he had on Regulus’s earlier. 

“If you break it, Potter, you’re paying for another one. Remember last time?” Remus poked his head out of the kitchen and raised his brow. James flushed as he remembered their old sofa that had broken in half when he’d had one too many and tried to wrestle it. 

“Er, yeah, sorry, Moony,”

“You broke a sofa?!” Regulus whispered unbelievably to him when Remus was out of sight. 

“Yeah, but it was old and buggered before I tried to put it in a headlock.” He tried to explain. Regulus shook his head in disbelief. 

“Right show me the rest of this flat then,” 

James showed him the bathroom, and they poked their heads into the bedroom. Regulus didn’t linger once he saw what was on the bedside table. They finally went to look in the kitchen. It was tiny but Sirius and Remus had made good use of the small space. Every scrap of counter, however, was full of dishes for their meal. 

“Right start taking this stuff out,” Sirius ordered as he finished mixing some sort of salad dressing. 

James and Remus cooked while Sirius handed out beers, and they sat down in the warm sun to eat. James was stuffed but still had room for a few toasted marshmallows. He looked over at Regulus and Sirius scrolling through TicTok together, laughing at the videos. He felt incredibly happy and lucky and all over a dropped apple core. They might just be starting out, but he could already see the mending relationship between the two brothers, so even if they didn’t work out, he’d always be glad Regulus had that, he’d make sure of it. 

“WHAT THE ACTUAL!!!” Sirius yelled at the phone in his hands. He began furiously scrolling through videos, getting redder and redder. James peeked over his shoulder and paled. Sirius had stumbled onto Wormtail’s account. James grabbed Regulus’s hand and whispered in his ear.

“Scarper?!” The other man nodded. James blew a kiss to Remus and then raced out of the place, Sirius’s ranting following them down the street as they headed back to Regulus's flat. 

Second part of the series (Wolfstar)

[hunterssm00n]

Beyond the Stars

Layla is a recovering heroin addict on a rehabilitation ship out in deep space; the mission is for the junkies in recovery to build housing for colonies on a new planet that is found to be safe for human existance, therefore giving them a second shot at life without sending them to prison. Basically killing two birds with one stone. However, Layla soon uncovers a secret that Weyland-Yutani Corp. is hiding from the public, and when there's an alien outbreak aboard the ship, she is unsure if she will make it back to Earth to share her gruesome discovery.

chapter 1 of ??

also on ao3: here

*cw include smut, interspecies relationship, canon typical violence/gore, explicit language, past drug use, offensive language, xenomorph things, past abuse, dark themes* MDNI - 18+

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧‎♡‧₊˚

hunterssm00n © All rights reserved by me. I do not allow this work to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

"Broke! Inside / This life, you can never be reborn within / I came this far, erase my scars / Fight! This time / Inside, take a break from the lie you live / I came this far, erase my scars" ~ 'Erase my Scars' - Evans Blue

Chapter 1: Erase My Scars

The sound of birds chirping woke her up, along with a steady stream of warm light she was aware of even though her eyes were closed. She allowed one eye, the one closest to her pillow, to slowly crack open. The light was not blinding, but rather awakening, if that made any sense. Not harsh, but warm and inviting. Wake up, you are welcome here. Along with the birds and a faint gentle breeze causing leaves on the trees to rustle, it really was paradise.

Too bad it was fake.

She let her other eye open to observe the simulation of said paradise, the image of a sunny summer morning being shown back at her. The image, though a lie, was definitely crafted well. The whole idea of having scenery simulated on the walls of one's bedroom was a definite jackpot. It was both practical and impractical at the same time. Something crazy, but with just enough sense poured into it that it made the whole thing justifiable. The idea, of course, was to soothe the brain into thinking you were somewhere peaceful, serene, safe. She wondered then if there would be some sort of advanced setting upgrade where there was, like, a rock concert going on in the background, or a derby. That would most definitely defeat the whole 'soothing' purpose of the thing though, so probably not. Just another one of those weird little things she wondered. Hell, there wasn't much in here to do but wonder.

She was Layla Thomas, and here was a floating hunk of metal in deep space that housed junkies and recovering drug addicts. Who knew a few hundred years ago that there would be flying rehabilitation centers zooming through the sky, past planets? If they were zooming though, Layla thought, it would probably be much more fun. Not like any of them would really be able to tell anyways. Windows were limited to none, and most of the patients weren't allowed near them. Mainly because recovering druggies could be very dangerous, especially when coming down off of meds or still on the last gasp of their previous high. Druggies, like psychos, had very little concept of pain when doped up, and could display an incredible amount of strength, even if they were not but skin and bones. These corporate suits weren't going to take any chances. Not even on a 5'3 dirty blonde with curvy legs and big brown doe eyes.

Layla lifted her head off of her pillow to fully inspect the image of a maple tree to her right; it probably might've been a bit more believable had the floor also had some sort of simulated grass. It went from the beautiful flowery-grassy-lovely scenery on the wall straight to stark white, cold tile.

With a tired sigh, she shifted on the memory foam mattress to reach to the nightstand, conveniently next to the tree, for the remote. There were a few settings that she favored over the others - one of them being this sunny morning that was displayed right now. But her favorite was the ocean setting, which was what she switched to now. Immediately, the green grass melted away to become blue foaming waves, surrounding her with gentle crashing noises of the tide. The birds chirping became seagulls squalling in the distance, and the yellow streaming sunlight became a creamy pink, orange and blue tye-dye. The color of the sky when the sun rose. Layla settled back onto the bed with another sigh; this one of longing.

She missed Earth, missed her family, missed her freedom. And she missed the ocean. A phenomenon she'd only experience the beauty of a handful of times, but she visited it every day in her memory. Her obsession went so far that she had a mermaid tattoo on the back of her left shoulder. Sometimes she scoffed at herself; twenty-five years old and she still wanted to be a mermaid when she grew up.

The drug use hadn't done anything to dull her overactive imagination. If anything, it had increased it. Kind of what she'd been counting on when she'd taken her first hit. Heroin had been her poison of choice. God damn old bitch had caught her at her worst moments and had helped her to fly. She was glad it was gone, but missed it all the same. The withdrawal had been God awful; spewing from both ends, screaming and crying, night sweats, insomnia... If she ever thought she'd been close to death before, it was nothing compared to what she'd gone through then. She'd honestly thought she was dying; honestly had wanted to go rather than endure another day of the unbearable pain.

Finally sitting up in her bed, Layla looked down at her left arm, the inside of her elbow. The track marks were very visible still, even after three months. They would probably remain in sight for the rest of her life. She frowned at how purple/brown/ugly they looked, like ticks dotting her skin. They'd look much better if she still had her tan - too bad the simulated sunlight couldn't do that for her. It looks real, it sounds real, but it ain't real.

A keyboard note softly sounded out through the room, signifying the presence of somebody outside her door. There was no point in telling them to come in or fuck off. They couldn't hear her. This room was totally soundproof from the outside. The only means of contact was the little clear rectangular device on her nightstand. It would contact a nurse should she need something, and aid as a panic button for emergencies. Other than that, everyone could come and leave as they pleased freely through those doors. Everyone but her.

Layla wasn't exactly sure how many patients besides her there were on this ship. She knew it was big; as big as a commercial towing vehicle, or a medical facility. And they probably wouldn't be going through all this trouble for just her and a few other junkies, so she assumed there was more than a mere handful of them.

The entire point of her being on this floating hunk of junk was so that she could help build housing for colonies on another planet light years away from Earth. There were plenty of rehab centers on Earth that could have helped her, but none that would teach her whatever lesson she was about to be taught. Also, none that would have their own benefit of workers that didn't need to be paid. Layla, unfortunately, hadn't been a good girl back on Earth when it came to her drug problem. And upon being caught, she had run from the cops. Busted for heroin, evading arrest: all factors of the situation spelled bad news for her and her future. In court, she was given a choice: prison, multiple charges, her life ruined because of her own stupid mistake. Or, hopping aboard one of Weyland-Yutani's massive ships (since that company was the founding father of most of their technological advancements), and helping them build a few homes on a barren wasteland of a planet. Afterwards, they would let her off scott-free, clean slate. It almost sounded too good to be true, aside from the fact that they would have to be gone for more than a year from their homes back on Earth.

Sparing herself and her family the messiness and pain of prison, plus all of the combined contributions, Layla took the chance she was offered. Honestly, both options sucked, but plan C, aka. not getting caught, hadn't worked out too well either. She'd brought it upon herself; addiction was truly a disease. So many times she had thought about quitting, but as destructive as the drugs had been, they'd also been the only thing that actually calmed her, soothed her mind. That needle in her arm had brought her solace, even though it was destroying her. Lustrous golden hair was now dull and stringy. Tan skin was now pale with track marks and bruises, veiny and death-like. She had dark circles under her eyes that hadn't gone away in months. At least now though she could sleep - when she had first gone off the drugs, sleep had been non-existent.

The doors slid open to reveal a female nurse, Janine, she thought her name was. Janine, Jenny, Geraldine? She couldn't remember, nor did she really care. It sounded awful, but she had stopped caring about a lot ever since she had gotten into heroin. Things that used to matter didn't seem to anymore. That was one of the many reasons why she had wanted to quit, but the fear of things going back to how they had been completely scared her into putting down the spoon and the syringe.

"Morning doll, how ya doin' this mornin'?" the nurse, Jeanette, she could now read on the nametag, said in a southern twang.

"Just great," Layla grumbled. How the fuck did she think she was doing? She immediately felt bad for her grumpiness. It wasn't this woman's fault she was in this situation. It was her own fault. She was even tired of blaming herself though. She did it all day, and especially when she tried to sleep. Did it in her dreams. It was a shitty situation all around. There had been reasons for why she did what she did. Good reasons. But she didn't want to think about them now. Now it was time to start the day.

"Brought you some new pants, figured you was gettin' tired of the old ones," Jeanette held out another pair of pants identical to the ones Layla was wearing. Layla refrained from rolling her eyes/giving a death glare. Humoring the nurse, she took the pants and made her way to the restroom near the exit. If one more person tries to be funny, someone's gonna get punched, swear to God.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧‎♡‧₊˚

AN: I do not own the Alien franchise or any of its characters, but Layla is my own OC, as well as a few others in this story.

The header above was made by me**

chapter 2

[pure-ablution]

Tips for a good night of beauty sleep?

Aromatherapy

I use aromatherapy to relax me and go to sleep at night, and I use it to wake me up and energise me in the morning. It’s a really powerful tool, especially when used over a long period of time and with high-quality products. These are my personal favourites: I use the balm on my wrists and temples, the oil in my nightly bath, and the pillow spray on my bedlinen. I suspect that I’ve essentially just Pavloved myself into good sleep but if it works, then it works.

Clear breathing

I desperately need a rhinoplasty but I can’t have one yet, so this is my makeshift solution. I tape my nose and mouth and use the magnetic nasal dilators to keep my airways as clear as possible during the night, and I have my air purifier/humidifier on 24/7. The air circulation and quality in my dorm is really not the best (the purifier shouted at me the first time I turned it on) but I’ve found that everyone sleeps and breathes better with the Dyson, my roommates and I suffer from fewer infections and colds, and the dorm is probably as good as it’s going to get.

Block out noise and light

I grew up in a small rural area where the only noise at night was the sound of the wolves, and even though it’s been almost ten years since I left, I still can’t sleep with the sound of a city in the background. I survived on cheap earplugs for a while, but eventually took myself down to the audiology clinic near me and paid up for some custom-made plugs. They make a huge difference to me and block out just the right amount of noise—I’m able to ignore my roommate crashing in at 4am, but I still wake up to the sound of my alarm. I also like sleeping in complete darkness, and our curtains are pretty bad, so buying a silk sleeping mask which cups around my eyes to protect my lashes and block out light was a wonderful investment.

Make sure you’re comfortable

If you’re a student like me, I can almost guarantee that your bed is uncomfortable. I’m obviously not sleeping on a cloud right now, but I do what I can to make my sleeping space as comfortable as possible. I researched the best mattress toppers and found this one from a company called Simba, which contains a hybrid of memory foam and springs for better support. Pure foam mattresses don’t support my joints enough, and I like a hard mattress; this topper isn’t as hard as I’d like, but it’s a significant improvement and I sleep much better. I keep my bed extremely clean, I air it out every morning and change my linen twice a week, and I make sure to have a weighted blanket and fresh pyjamas that are comfortable and breathable.

Natural sleeping aids if needed

I have a confession: I was completely addicted to cough medicine during my first year. I had a chest infection in the first month of uni, and was given something that contained a mixture of codeine and diphenhydramine. I was entirely hooked on it for the rest of the year, and couldn’t sleep without it, until I forced myself to go cold turkey over the summer. I use more natural sleeping aids now, but I think I’d still struggle without them and I wouldn’t recommend taking anything unless you really need it.

[mtdoor]

Discover Comfort: Top Mattress Stores in Scarborough

When it comes to finding the perfect mattress in Scarborough, the options are both abundant and diverse. Scarborough's mattress stores offer a wide range of choices to cater to every preference and budget. Whether you're looking for a firm mattress to support your back or a plush one to sink into after a long day, these stores have something for everyone. Each store prides itself on offering high-quality products, exceptional customer service, and knowledgeable staff to help you make the best choice for your sleep needs.

One of the standout features of mattress store near me in Scarborough is their commitment to providing a personalized shopping experience. As you walk through the doors, you'll be greeted by friendly staff members who are eager to assist you.

They understand that choosing a mattress is a significant decision and are trained to help you navigate through various options. From memory foam and innerspring to hybrid and latex mattresses, you'll find a variety of types and brands to test out. The stores often have showrooms designed to let you try before you buy, ensuring you make an informed decision.

Additionally, many mattress store Scarborough offer comprehensive after-sales services, including delivery and setup, ensuring a hassle-free experience from purchase to installation. Some stores even provide sleep trials, allowing you to test the mattress in your home for a specific period. With competitive pricing and regular promotions, finding the perfect mattress Scarborough is both convenient and affordable. Whether you're upgrading your current mattress or setting up a new home, these stores are equipped to meet all your sleep-related needs.

Visit: https://mattresstodoor.com/pages/mattress-store-scarborough

[royaloak-furniture]

Which mattress is costly spring or foam?

Foam mattresses are often more expensive than spring mattresses. However, when calculating pricing, the quality of the mattress must be considered. In many circumstances, purchasing a high-quality mattress, whether foam or spring, will result in a higher price. Finally, the price difference between spring and foam mattresses varies depending on brand, materials utilized, and general construction.

[differentalpacafestival]

Hi!

I'm hoping someone on the neurospicy side of tumblr might be able to help me find something I've been looking for – for a looooooooong time.

I've always wanted it, but after my 'brain' popped, I've been desperate.

Hopefully, I didn't spook anyone away with that lmfao. I don't know how else to say it. I was gifted a squeeze toy for Christmas one year (in a box full of other fidget toys), and it had a shape and design of a brain. You know those gummy ish balls with something similar to shaving cream in? Yeah, one of those xD

I loved it when it was whole, but when it popped and the air came out, it stopped going back to its original ball shape, and rather just semi-permanently shaped after my touch, which made me explode with happiness and satisfaction. It doesn't move at all when I don't play with it; it's just a blob. I can shape it however I want, and it stays that way until I reshape it again.

I've tried searching for memory foam toys, but only results I get are mattresses and 'slow rising' toys. I'm looking for something that doesn't rise back up. Kinda like a less gooey slime, maybe - it doesn't melt back into a form.

I have no idea if my description is good enough, if you've all already figured out what I'm trying to get at, or if I've explained the whole point away. My mind is incredibly messy, and I feel like I rarely actually get to the point. For that reason, I attached a video of it. Peep the sound at the end 😍

I really hope someone out there can help me, I'm near my wits end here. I can't think of any other keywords that would match T_T

[almattress]

Premium Memory foam Pillow | #mattress #sleepmattress #foammattress

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Trial and Error: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: canon angst and violence

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.

Sam and Dean's rooms are completely opposite of each other. Dean knocked down the wall separating two rooms so that you can have a much bigger room, but he managed to make it his own even with all of your things. Dean has different kinds of guns on the wall, his record player on a desk with his albums still wrapped in plastic on a rack beside the record player. You added some things such as cute throw pillows, a bean bag, and a desk with a computer and little trinkets on it.

It's a cute room but still has room for Dean's things to go. Sam's room is in a different hallway than you and Dean, so you decorated a room near Sam's so you or Dean can use it if you ever need a break from each other or are fighting. It's a good set up you all have, and you're glad you found this place.

"Wow," Sam comments from the doorframe. "Not bad."

"Not bad? I haven't had my own room since ever. I'm making this awesome. I got my kickass vinyl, we've got this killer mattress." Dean sits on the edge and grins happily. "Memory foam--it remembers me. It's clean, too. There's no funky smell. There's no creepy motel stains."

"I added a few nice touches with my magic. This used to be a queen bed," you grin.

"I'm gonna go fix us some grub."

Dean leaves his room, leaving you and Sam alone.

"Knocking down this wall was the best thing I could have done. We have a bigger bed, a bigger room, and a bigger closet."

"Yes, because you need that."

"Of course I do."

"How are you doing with the babies?" Sam asks.

"We're doing okay." You smooth your hand over your growing belly and tap it a few times. "They're both kicking, they're both healthy, and I can't wait until they're both here. Only two more months to go. What can go wrong?"

You turn to leave the room but you stop short when you see Amara standing in the doorway. Suddenly, you have a splitting headache the longer you look at her. You groan and hold your head, turning away from her. Sam immediately goes to your side and prepares to catch you if you fall over.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you sigh.

"That wasn't nothing. What's going on?"

"I've been having headaches whenever Amara comes around. Really bad ones. Dean doesn't know. It's probably nothing."

"Y/N, that's serious. He should know."

"What is he going to do? It's nothing, Sam. If it gets worse, I'll let him know, but I don't want him to worry about nothing."

You pass by Amara without looking at her, ignoring the pain in your head. The farther you get from her, the less the pain is. Soon, you don't have a headache anymore, but it does get you wondering how harmful this is going to be.

Sam heads to the library and digs into more books. He's been reading everything he can, trying to soak up all this knowledge knowing that one day, he's going to need it. You take a seat next to him, and that's when Dean comes in carrying three plates with burgers on them.

"What are you reading?"

"Sort of everything," Sam chuckles.

"Oh, good. Somebody's gonna have to dig through all this, and it ain't gonna be me."

"You made these?"

"We have a real kitchen now."

"I know. I just didn't think you knew what a kitchen was."

"I'm nesting, okay? Eat."

You take a bite of the burger and moan at how good it tastes. You knew Dean could cook, but you didn't know it could taste this good.

"Wow," Sam says with a mouthful of food.

"You're welcome." Dean takes a big bite of his food when his phone rings. He finishes his bite quickly before answering. "Yo."

"Dean? Come quick," Kevin says on the other line in a panic.

"Kevin? What's wrong?" Kevin hangs up, leaving all three of you confused. "I want to finish my burger."

"Come on, he needs our help."

It takes five hours to travel from the Bunker to Garth's Houseboat in Missouri. Without detours and stops, it takes Dean less than four to get there. Sam and Dean take all the precautions when it comes to Kevin due to the kind of work he is doing. Dean enters the houseboat, but Kevin is nowhere to be found.

"Kevin? It's us," you call out.

Dean hears something coming from the bathroom, and he opens it to see Kevin on his knees, vomiting into the toilet. He has a bloody nose and looks absolutely wrecked.

"Found him."

"Get up," you instruct, helping him to his feet. Sam grabs Joanna so that she is out of the way, and you bring Kevin over to the table and make him sit down. He tries to move out of your grasp, but you glare at him in only a way a mom can do. "Let me see you."

"I'm fine."

"Shut up and let me look at you."

Kevin knows it's no use in fighting you, so he leans back and lets you examine him. With your magic, you're able to heal his bloody nose, clear up some of his sinuses, and relieve his body of pain. He sighs and closes his eyes, free of some of the pain he's been in for a while.

"Wow. You look like hammered shit," Dean comments and you glare at Dean. "Are you sleeping?"

"Not really."

"Are you eating?" you ask and cross your arms.

"Hot dogs, mostly."

"That is not acceptable, young man. You need sleep, a good meal, and a shower."

"I know, and I've been getting bad headaches and nosebleeds, and I think maybe I had a small stroke. It was worth it."

"What was worth it?"

"I figured out how to close the Gates of Hell."

"Come here, you smelly son of a bitch."

Dean gives Kevin a big hug, lifting him off the ground. He sets him down and scrunches his face up in disgust once he gets a whiff of Kevin.

"What does this mean? What are we looking at?" you ask.

"It's a spell, and it's just a few words of Enochian, but the spell has to be spoken after you finish each of the three trials."

Kevin hands over the piece of paper with the spell written down on it, but you pass it off to Sam who has a better understanding of the words. What with all the books he's been reading at the bunker.

"Trials like 'Law & Order'?"

"More like Hercules. The tablet says, 'Whosoever chooses to undertake these tasks should fear not danger, nor death, nor...' A word I think means getting your spine ripped out through your mouth for all eternity. Basically, God built a series of tests, and when you've done all three, you can slam the gates."

"God wants us to take the SATs?" you joke.

"I guess. Uh, he works in mysterious ways."

"Yeah, mysterious, douche-y ways. Alright. Where do we start?" Dean asks, wanting to get started.

"I've only been able to crack one of the tests so far, and it's gross. You've got to kill a hound of hell and bathe in its blood."

"Awesome," Dean smiles.

"Excuse me?"

"Hey, if this means icing all demons, I have no problem gutting some devil dog and letting Calgon take me away."

"Where are you going to find one?" you ask and cross your arms.

"Well, Hellhounds like to collect on crossroads deals. So, all we have to do is track down some loser who signed away his life ten years ago, and get between him and Clifford the big dead dog."

"That doesn't sound easy."

"It's not," you and Sam say at the same time.

"Look, you get on the net and see what you can dig up. I'm gonna go for a supply run because we need goofer dust, and the kid needs to eat something that's not ground-up hooves and pigs' anuses."

Dean leaves without leaving any room for argument. Your lower back has been hurting recently, so you take a seat on the only small couch that's inside the boat. You close your eyes for a minute or two, but when you open them, you see Amara on the other side of the boat. A splitting headache comes back to haunt you, and you're not able to hide it from Sam.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"Y/N, this isn't healthy."

"It's fine, Sam. It's not a big deal."

If you admit to yourself that there could be a serious problem, then you have to admit that your babies aren't okay. Anything that has to do with your babies is serious, and you will not be putting their lives in danger. If Amara wants to cause trouble for you, then you'll power through it and deal with the consequences later.

Maybe if you don't admit there could be a problem, then there won't be one.

"Go take a shower Kevin," you say and focus on him instead of Amara.

"I don't really--"

"Don't make me get up and smack you. I said, go take a shower." When he doesn't move, you narrow your eyes at him. "Now."

"Okay, I will." Kevin heads to the bathroom with a pout, but when he comes back twenty minutes later, he looks a lot better. He shaved, cleaned himself, put on clean clothes, and took care of his body for once. "Okay, I feel a lot better."

"You look better. Mama knows best," you grin.

"Speaking of, you have to slow down," Sam says. He has been researching demonic signs anywhere that would suggest someone's ten years is up while you relax. "Get some sleep. Take a day off, and at the least, open a window."

"No. You said nuking hell is how I get out. That's how I go home."

"Kevin, he's right. That's how you get home safely, but you can't live like this."

"You think I want to? I hate it here. I can't leave because every demon on the planet wants to peel my face off. I can't talk to anyone except you guys or Garth when he swings by, or my mom. Right? When she calls, all she does is cry. I just... I need this to be over."

Your heart breaks for Kevin because he didn't ask for any of this. He got dragged into this because God made him a prophet, and you had to trample all over his life.

"Let me ask you this. How do you expect to do your absolute best here if you're not at your best? You need to take care of yourself or else you'll struggle more than you should. Work smarter, Kevin, not harder."

"I know," Kevin sighs.

"Taking one day off or even half a day is not going to kill you or anyone else. Get some sleep and recharge your body."

The heavy front door squeaks open, and Dean comes in holding a grocery bag of good food for Kevin to eat.

"Did you know that there are, like, 6,000 kinds of tomatoes?" He sets the bag in front of Kevin, and the young man can't help but dig into whatever Dean got. "Did you find anything?"

"Yeah. There had been demonic signs ten years ago in Shoshone, Idaho. Meet the Cassitys who are small-time farmers who struck oil on their land in February of '03, which is weird because geological surveys—"

"You had me at weird," Dean cuts his brother off. "Does it sound like a deal?"

"It's the best lead we have right now."

"Okay, let's go visit the Beverly Hillbillies." Dean gets up and turns to Kevin. "You stay here, work on step number two, and if you come across anything about Hellhounds, drop a dime, okay? Between the claws, the teeth, and the whole invisibility thing, those bitches can be real bitches." Dean reaches into the plastic bag and produces two bottles of medicine for Kevin. "I got you a present. The blue ones are for headaches, and the green ones are for pep. Don't O.D."

"Thanks?" Kevin sighs.

"Are you sure about that?" Sam whispers as they walk away.

"Sam, we are on the one-yard-line. It is time to play through the pain."

You groan and get up, grabbing Joanna's hand who has been silently playing with her stuffed dolls.

"Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Thank you."

You follow behind the brothers back to the car where you strap Joanna into her car seat. Once everyone is in, Dean heads back on the road to make the twenty-hour drive from Warsaw, Missouri to Shoshone, Idaho.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[builder051]

We'll settle for the field goal, thanks.

Iron Man

______________

Tony hears Pepper knock gently on the bedroom door. Maybe he doesn't exactly hear it; his ears are bogged down, and the left one feels achy and bulgy with possible infection.

He thinks he smells her perfume. But no, Tony's nose is clogged with inordinate amounts of yellow and green and terrible.

A rustle of papers. A clipboard being tucked under an arm.

Then, faintly, "Tony?" The doorknob clicks as it turns. The noise may as well be that of the guillotine meeting his spinal column in some fucked up slow-motion replay of his beheading.

Tony's head remains on his shoulders. His mouth connects to his throat, which connects to his stomach, and everything in his upper digestive tract sloshes as he makes the attempt to roll over and rasp, "Yeah, come in."

It's pointless to speak, for Jarvis wouldn't let anyone else into the room. Even paramedics would receive 'access denied.' Unless Pepper approved them beforehand.

The door opens, and Pepper stands just over the threshold to ensure it closes quietly. It's probably meant to be a kind gesture. Sympathetic, maybe. But all Tony feels is sickly anxiety. What happened to that guillotine?

The mattress only dips a centimeter or so when Pepper sits down at Tony's side. It's memory foam, made from sustainably cultivated bamboo. With carbon offsets for the shipping as well. It's a nice bed. Pepper probably didn't mean to turn it into a pirate ship. Tony's sinuses tingle. Deep pressure forms behind his eyes and nose. His jaw feels disengaged; like it might be hanging back in Malibu. Malibu? Is that south or north of New York? Miami. That sounds much more plausible.

"'M either gonna sneeze or puke," Tony warns, holding his hand up to keep Pepper at arm's length. "Where's the thing? The square...?"

"What, that?" Pepper juts her chin toward the Rubik's cube on the bedside table.

"Huh?" Tony tries to follow along. "That? Nah. Toss it. I got snot fingerprints all over it..." He swallows hard to head off the preemptive cough that's bound to lead to an episode of retching. "The that."

Tony points at the slightly squashed tissue box nestled in the blankets around his knees. "Something's gonna give here..."

"Hmmm." Pepper obliges. She pulls three sheets from the box and hands them to Tony.

"...nks..." Most of his word is lost as he tries to blow his nose. Plenty flows out, turning the tissues to a crumpled, soggy mess, but Tony's forehead throbs something awful as fresh mucous shifts to replace the clear space. "Dammit."

"Here." Pepper takes the disgusting wad away with two fingers, lobs it into the trash bin near the closet, and pulls a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer from her pocket.

"What?" Tony asks her crossly. "Did you just come in here to rub it in that I'm all germy?"

"Your're the one who threatened to put me in quarantine last time the bots dusted the ceiling fan," Pepper counters. "And no, I came in here to tell you that city works denied your architectural proposal. We have to redo the blueprints."

Geez. They couldn't have waited to vote or stamp or sign the document or whatever they do until after Tony's done being sick? His annoyance with the situation immediately doubles. Is multiplied by the power of 10. Expands exponentially. He wonders if he could use a bicycle pump to measure the PSI inside his own head.

"Fuck," Tony mutters. "Why?"

"Well." Pepper lets out a gentle sigh. "Do you want the long or the short of it?"

"Just, uh." Tony sniffs, and tangible goo backs up into his throat. He gulps, trying not to taste the salty sourness, and says, "Make it make sense?"

"Ok." Pepper nods. She rifles through her papers until she finds a map to scale, showing the foundation of Stark Tower and the adjacent buildings and roads. "So," she continues, pointing to a blank space, "You wanted to build here."

"Yeah..."

"Well, it turns out you only own half the lot. The other half belongs to the building next door."

"So we buy them out, right?" That's a logical conclusion, isn't it? Not some messed up fever dream?

"They're unwilling to sell." Pepper's voice is measured and stable.

"Oh, come on..." Tony rolls his eyes and immediately regrets it.

"I'm afraid there's nothing we can do about that." Pepper presses her lips together.

"Ok..." Tony breathes in and out, trying to ignore the wavering snuffle of semi-solid snot rocks in his nasal cavities. There has to be a plan B. "So we build smaller."

Pepper smiles sweetly, in the way one does when giving up the argument with a 3-year-old as to whether Pluto is a dog or a planet. "Unfortunately, the entire plan has been rejected. There's...not going to be any opportunity to build."

Tony's head is swimming. He feels like he might throw up, if not because of mucous disagreeing with stomach acid, then definitely as the first punch of an impending temper tantrum. "I still don't get it..."

"There's a water main that cuts directly across the property," Pepper explains.

"Dig it up and move it." Tony massages the space between his eyebrows. There's a terrible knot there, as if marionette strings operating the rest of his body have gone nonfunctional due to extremely questionable tangles.

"Tony," Pepper's definitely exasperated. "Are you aware that you're practically inches from two different housing projects?" She takes a breath. "We are not cutting off people's water so you can build a home gym!"

"Well--" Tony realizes he doesn't have a good answer, and he decides not to stress his vocal cords, lest something else slip out of place too.

"You don't even work out, Tony." Pepper's gone desperate and quiet. "I mean, you have the boxing ring and everything already." She pauses, and they stare each other down for a moment. Then Pepper asks, "What is this even about? Why are you even thinking of remodeling?"

Tony's mind is still a few steps back in the conversation. "They can tap a water line, right? Construction people?" He squints down at the map, which, unhelpfully, doesn't show underground plumbing. "Gyms need showers and stuff."

"Are you even listening?" Pepper asks.

"Yes." Tony locks his eyes on hers again.

Pepper retrieves another tissue and takes it upon herself to catch the drip shivering at the end of Tony's nose.

"We could tap it and make, uh... an outdoor fountain." Tony's grasping at straws. Even he knows that idea's half-baked at best.

"No structures," Pepper says. "They've outlined it pretty clearly in the rejection letter..." She looks at her clipboard, preparing to show Tony the words in writing.

"No, I don't want to see." Tony wriggles farther away from her in the bed. "Every part of me is drenched in something or other. Smeared fingerprints. It's gonna be a no."

"Ok." Pepper sighs again. "Then could you just... maybe, believe me?"

Tony's instinct is to strike her down again. But every ounce of his body and mind are screaming at him. Just let it go. She's right. Deal with tomorrow when tomorrow comes. And god fuck it, snot's running nose to lip faster than a 100 meter dash.

"Give me some more of those..." Tony waves a hand toward the tissues.

Pepper holds up the box. Tony grabs and grabs until he's only snatching at air. He mops up what he can, then says, " Hey, Jarv. Do we have more of these?"

A faint red light appears as Jarvis scans the room to clear up what Tony's referring to. "Ah," the AI says. "I will place a rush order to the Cost Co."

"Fuck." Tony breathes carefully, trying not to dislodge anything else. "And how long is that gonna take?"

"Approximately 1 hour and 34 minutes, sir."

"I'm screwed..."

Pepper pats Tony's hand. "Oh, you'll make it." She grins. "Ever heard of a hand towel?"

"I-- oh..." Yes, she's right. Pepper wins that one, fair and square.

A new thought strikes Tony, rather like missing a catch and getting the box of spaghetti straight to the face. "What about a crossfit yard?"

Pepper pops her head out of the ensuite and comes back to the bed, a clean hand towel gripped to her chest. "A what now?"

"Crossfit," Tony repeats. "You don't have to build anything. Just get, like, some tires. Ropes, maybe."

Pepper looks dumbfounded. "You've never done crossfit in your life."

Tony shrugs. "Thor seems like the kind of guy who likes crossfit..."

"I think you're getting way too ahead of yourself." Pepper motions for Tony to roll onto his back, then begins to carefully sponge sweat and grime off his face.

"Or pour some concrete. Make a basketball court."

"Tony-"

"To invite the neighbors."

"And double cross them to trick them into selling you the other half of the lot?" Pepper raises her eyebrows. "That's maniacal. That's low, Tony. That's... very wrong."

"You're not listening now." Tony fumbles for a corner of the hand towel and blows his nose with a staggered, groaning sound. "What kind of apartment kid doesn't like to play basketball?"

Pepper's expression softens. "You're still getting way ahead of yourself."

"Next time you video chat with the real estate person, scope out everything within two blocks. I wanna do a playground--" Tony gags on his own spit. Pepper relinquishes the towel so he can cover his face. Tony's abdominal muscles scream as he lifts himself up to sitting and leans forward at the waist.

Actual vomit would be easier. Tony hacks until he can barely breathe, then winces as he tries to extricate a slug of mucous from the roof of his mouth. He wraps a finger in the towel and goes in for a manual scraping.

Pepper looks worried, like he might've gone out of his mind and started a new diet of terry cloth and Egyptian cotton. But a moment later, when Tony lowers his hand and reveals something like the decomposed body of a clam surrounded by a faint smear of pinkish blood, her face turns to relief.

"I'm glad you're getting that out of your system." Pepper takes the towel away and folds it, yuck in the center and the outside mostly clean.

"But could you--" Tony breathes.

"No. No business meetings or building plans until you're 98.6 and no longer flinging boogers." Pepper's put her foot down. For the third time now, Tony sees the logic in respecting that.

He can't help himself, though. "But--"

"Call me if you need your nose wiped again." Pepper smiles as she stands up. "Or if you barf. Or if you reset all your passwords in your sleep."

"Mm." Tony groans. "I don't do that. Any of that. Right?"

Pepper lets out a breath. Shakes her head. Then. "Nope. Not ever."