tj-crochets · 6 months ago
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Hey y'all it's two am and I have a not that weird question for you because there's lightning and I can't do flashing lights so I can't sleep! How do you get blackout curtains on windows that already have those. What's the word. The slats things that go up and down and mostly but not entirely block window light when you want them to? Those! If the window already has those how do you blackout curtains? (are they called blackout curtains? the curtains that completely block light)
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littledevilinside · 11 months ago
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there is nothing worse than being left out in the cold, lorelei shrugs on a jacket as she ducks down one of the smaller streets of woodridge hollow. she doesn't know colton is watching her and her bag of food for the night, wondering what she's doing out so late on her own. she can't feel his eyes widening when she eventually makes her way towards the abandoned house and slips inside, like it's the most natural thing in the world.
it's not like she's breaking and entering, it's technically family owned.
sitting on a blanket on the floor, she grabs her phone to use as a flashlight ( the lady at the diner let her charge it and she's used her bookstore money to be able to keep it active. ) and sets it up on the floor. light illuminates the small space and she's just about to tear into her dinner when there is a knock at the door that causes her to nearly jump out of her skin. she grabs her phone and cradles it close to her chest before a familiar voice rings out.
"lorelei, honey it's me."
she's had limited interactions with the eldest marshall and he's always been kind to her, she's just unsure why he's here this late.
scrambling to her feet, she walks over to the door and opens it slowly, glancing out to make sure that there is no one else around - she doesn't want anyone to see her like this.
"what are you doing ? "
lorelei shrugs her shoulders and puts her phone in her pocket as to not blind him with the flashlight part of it.
"i've been crashin' here. i'm not like..trespassing or nothin' - it's family owned from what i remember."
"that's not what i'm concerned about, lori." he says, and his voice is soft and gentle and she almost sheds a tear at the care he's putting forth when speaking to her. like she matters. she hasn't felt that feeling in a long time when it comes to her parents, having it now is altogether a little overwhelming.
"grab your stuff, you're comin' home with me."
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she wants to protest - tell him she can't, that she's in this mess for reasons he wouldn't understand, but the look on his face is that he's not going to take no for an answer. she nods, sheepishly, like a child in trouble, and walks back to her pallet on the floor and gathers a few things to bring with her. the rest of her stuff can be gotten later, she's grabbed the essentials. a bag with a change of clothes, her phone charger, her dinner ( before it gets cold ), and her pillow and blanket.
he throws his arm around her and holds her close as he guides her to his truck - parked down the street a little ways as to not startle her when he pulled up in front of the house.
"you can tell me what happened when you're ready, but you're gonna stay with us for the forseeable future. just...no canoodlin' under my roof, you got it?"
she turns beet red and nods, throwing her stuff into the back - with the exception of her charger and her food and climbs up into the passenger side of the vehicle.
she takes a breath before looking over in the older marshall's direction, biting down on the bottom tier.
"hey colton?"
she starts, like she's asking a question.
he turns his head and gives her his full attention as the engine roars to life and he's pulling off onto the road.
"yeah, sweetheart?"
"thank you."
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starlit-scifi · 5 years ago
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Chapter 11
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When you wake up, you almost wish you hadn't, you're so sore. Lori’s up already, and she stretches, groaning softly. You blink as she pulls up the shades, filling your tent with natural light, illuminating the outline of her body draped in her baggy pajamas.
Not that you’re really looking. Really.
You roll over and stretch, mindful of your sore muscles, and it feels like every one of your vertebrae cracks back into place. She looks over at you and chuckles.
“That sounds like it felt good,” she says, her voice husky from sleep. You feel your cheeks go pink and quickly rub your eyes in an attempt to hide it.
“It was okay… I’m really sore,” you admit.
“Same,” she replies, plopping down on her sleeping bag to sit beside you. Her hip pops as she crosses her legs, and she winces and readjusts herself. “Stupid real gravity… I definitely wasn't prepared for this part. But once we start moving around, it'll get better.”
“That requires moving, though,” you say with a pout. She rolls her eyes.
“You're reminding me of Manda too much right now.” She grins, mischief in her eyes, and grabs her pillow and smacks you gently with it. “Now get up, or I will drag you out of bed. Don't think I've never done it to her.”
“Okay, okay!” You laugh, wiggling out of range to go find your clothes.
You get dressed, distinctly aware that she's doing the same just a few feet away. But it's normal, or at least it's going to have to be if you want to survive this without something stupid happening.
And nothing stupid is going to happen, you tell yourself firmly, pulling your ponytail a bit tighter before you twist it up into as much of a bun as you can get it in with this humidity.
“Almost ready?” She asks, looking over at you as she double checks the closures on her backpack.
“Yeah, just need my shoes.” You fumble with the laces for long enough that you start to feel self-conscious, and when you finally look up, she's smiling at you.
“Sorry,” you mumble.
“It's fine. No rush. We're taking things at your pace today anyway.”
“Y-yeah.”
You step out into the bright jungle morning, colorful foliage and chattering creatures all around, the sweet scent of flowers and the hum of life dancing in the air.
The thickly, horribly humid air.
You're already drenched in sweat when you make it to your first sampling site about ten minutes later. Lori's definitely suffering too; she gulps down water as you set your bag on a convenient rock and get your tools out. She undoes her jacket and sighs in relief.
“Okay,” you say as you look away and try to pull yourself together. “Here we're collecting small invertebrates, and sampling soil microbes for culturing and sequencing. Bug trap or digging?”
“Digging, definitely digging.” She takes the small digging tool when you hand it to her, and you run over how to use it again: Clear the area of debris, press the tip to the soil, and push the button. Eject the sample into a tube, close the tube, move somewhere else and repeat. She watches intently as you demonstrate, and you send her off to do her thing as you do yours.
You've just set up your third trap when she shrieks. You turn to see her surrounded by a cloud of flying insects. Thinking fast, you open your water bottle and slosh the contents at the swarm. “Run!” You shout, heading back the way you think your campsite is. Lori stumbles after you, and as soon as you're sure the insects didn't follow, you stop. She leans heavily against a tree, panting.
“Did they bite you?” You don't see any obvious marks or swelling, but you can’t be too sure.
“No, I don't think so? They were everywhere though, I…” Her eyes widen in horror. “Something's in my shirt--” She struggles her way out of her jacket and her undershirt, and you run to help her as she tries to swat at the insect that's crawling around her mid-back. You manage to catch it in your cupped hands, and it tickles you as it scuttles around. You drop it on the ground and watch as it scurries away into the undergrowth.
“It looked like some kind of beetle… you probably just disturbed a nest.”
She shudders. “Well they can keep their nest, and stay far, far away from me.” She hugs her arms to her chest, and a moment later you realize you're staring at her, so you pick up her jacket instead and try to shake the dust off. There's another bug crawling on it, and you casually pick it off rather than mention it to her. You wait until she's done wrestling her shirt back on before handing the jacket over.
"Thanks."
"No problem. Ready to head back?"
She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Yeah."
"Sorry for being such a baby about bugs," she says quietly after a minute.
"Don't be. We're all scared of things. And it pays to be cautious-- even though in theory nothing on this planet can really hurt us, it's better to be careful anyway."
"I know, I know. I was actually awake for that lecture," she adds with a chuckle.
"Yeah, gotta love paradise planets."
She smiles, then yelps and ducks as another beetle flies past her head. "Why does paradise have to involve so many bugs?"
You shrug. "The beetle-like shape is generally an advantageous bauplan in terrestrial environments. Earth had massive diversity in insects, especially beetles, before the ecosystem started to collapse. In fact, if any macroscopic animals survived, it's probably the insects."
"That's impressive."
"They're pretty resilient."
She smirks. "That's probably why the Denilian nickname for us is their equivalent of 'insect', right?"
You laugh. "Let's keep telling ourselves that."
By the time evening comes, you're both exhausted, dirty, and beyond sore. You eat in silence and clean yourselves up the best you can before retreating to the tent. You change into pajamas, but she just undresses and flops down on her sleeping bag with a tired groan.
“What's up?” you ask, settling down beside her.
“I'm just… gross. We've done field training before, just never somewhere so sweaty.”
“The closest I've been to being in this kind of climate was a sauna at a spa resort. It was on a planet where you couldn’t breathe the air outside, but you could see the rainforest through the window…”
She laughs. “That is a completely foreign concept to me.”
“Well, you see,” you say in your absolute snobbiest voice, “A window is a piece of transparent material integrated into the structure of--” You dodge the balled-up sock she throws at you, and then the other one, laughing the whole time. She just shakes her head, still smiling.
“I mean the whole spa resort thing. Was that really normal for you growing up?”
You shrug. “My parents travel a lot, and most colonial governments try to treat them pretty well. As soon as I was old enough, they decided to bring me along too, since I'd presumably be doing the same eventually. And I know that kind of thing is a big waste of money and resources… but it can be pretty nice. It just feels good to get pampered like that.”
“Must be nice… Back home I don't even go places to get my hair cut, I have a cousin who does it for me.”
“That's nice. We just have bots for that kind of stuff. It's a bit ridiculous.”
She shakes her head, smiling. “Tusies,” she mutters, and you throw her socks right back at her. You're both too exhausted to do much else, so you lie there side by side.
“Tell me you don't have bots that give massages, too,” she grumbles.
You laugh. “We do, and I'd kill to have one here right now.”
“Same.” She turns to look at you pleadingly. "I'll give you a massage if you give me one. Just… rub my shoulders. Or my calves. Real gravity sucks and I'd like to be able to walk tomorrow,” she mutters.
“Um. Sure. I can try, at least, I don't know if I'd be any good…”
“At this point,” she says dryly, rolling over, “I'm willing to take that chance.”
You scoot over towards her and gingerly press your palms against her back.
“I've… never really done this before…”
“For starters, you can get on top of me, that way you can press harder. Use the bottom of your hand, or your thumb-- ah…” You back off quickly. “No, no, that was good,” she says. “Keep going.”
You do, mostly just guessing based on the noises she makes and that one lecture on human musculoskeletal structure you vaguely remember from your first year. By the time she asks you to move on to her legs, you're grateful, since straddling her was getting a bit uncomfortable-- your legs are sore, too.
She cries out when you press your thumbs into her right calf, and you snatch your hands away.
“I'm okay, I'm okay,” she gasps. “Just… stars. Be gentle.”
You do your best. She whimpers softly when you give it another try, but tells you to keep going. When she's had enough, she rolls over.
“Alright. Your turn.”
“More like your turn for revenge,” you mutter. She grins.
“Now you get it. Come on.”
You didn't realize how much tension you had been carrying in your shoulders, or how much of the soreness in your feet was coming from your calves.
You also didn't realize what it would do to you, to have those strong hands tease every bit of tightness from your poor muscles.
After she's done, you lay there a while in tingling bliss, until she gently puts a hand on your shoulder.
“Hey, Aurie,” she whispers, “You awake?”
“Yeah,” you mumble. “What’s up?”
She chuckles softly. “You're just halfway on my sleeping bag.”
“Oh. Sorry.” You scoot over to your own, and she settles down in hers. You're almost asleep when you hear her say something.
“Hm?”
“Just wanted to say thanks,” she murmurs. “It helped a lot.”
“No problem.” But there is a problem, you add silently, with how good it feels…
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