#as a reward for actually going to my doctor's appointment

[13eyond13]

Sometimes I still think about how sweet it was when that anon checked on me last year when I was posting overly dark jokes. Thank you whoever you were, that was kind

[2willowlane]

i love visiting him whenever he's out in the clinic. tbh, i want to try and spice up the gifts i bring him. i think he's tired of all of the coffee i have.

male reader, sfw, established relationship

"honey, we've talked about this..."

at the sight of his husband, the doctor sighed; shaking his head affectionately at you. you wanted to surprise him with a basket of his favourite treats; namely of the likes of pickles and wine. he was at his clinic, per-usual on tuesdays and thursdays—getting ready in his examination room. patients where one of his top priorities (other than you, of course); as he did go to school for almost a decade for this occupation. as your love then placed the goods down, out of the way, you then surprised him with a little peck to the cheek.

"i appreciate you coming by and seeing me; it's awfully sweet of you," you couldn't get over how he let out a little laugh at your kiss. what a cutie. "however, you do understand i have an appointment booked in a few moments, right? i promise, i'll be home just before you know it. i don't want to leave my favourite guy worried, now, do i?"

he wasn't exasperated by your surprise visits, he actually enjoyed seeing what you wanted to bring him. either it was just a quick coffee for a pick-me-up, a little smooch, or just for some small talk; there was something rewarding, having something to look forward to everyday. whilst harvey is taking tender care of the farm, whilst you're off doing errands, he makes sure to greet you with a welcoming meal; experimenting with different combinations and flavours, to see what'll get the best reaction out of you.

"oh, don't look at me like that," harvey then saw how you were jokingly trying to "guilt" him; looking at him sternly. "go on now—but, ah, wait a second."

fumbling with his jacket, harvey then tried to pull it off and over him. once he did, he then handed it to you; the olive fabric was warm to the touch, and it smelt very comforting—though, since you were very used to living with the man already, you've grown attached to it. you'd suppose that the sterile clinic accentuated the scent, but nevertheless, it was harvey's significant overcoat. "it's cold out. i know you love being active, and even if it's great to have your blood pumping, it's best to be layered up."

you knew you've won him over, as you thanked him for the sentiment. even if this may end up being just a simple, overlooked event in the far future—it makes you a proud husband, for being able to reflect on this. seasons back, harvey would've be relunctant on some of his more intimate actions; rather, the poor man would've been flustered way too easily for his own good. you just took a moment to just appreciate the tender moment, before harvey had to eventually shoo you out.

[no-saints-around-here]

i just read your little blurbs with panties and kokonoi, and who do you think it would be 👁👁 do you think he would ever let redacted join them either in or after a livestream 👁👁

Recommended Readings: Panty Sniffing HCs; Koko Panties Ask

Masterlist

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tw: nsfw, afab reader, forced exhibitionism, oral, panty soiling, panty sniffing, dead dove do not eat

Intentionally left that as a mystery so that yall can daydream a little about whoever your favourite Bonten exec is! buuuttt if you ask me-

In my head, that little sneaker would be Kakucho hands down.

Well known around the syndicate that Koko doesn't trust any of the other executives as far as he can throw them, especially not with your safety. He knows they know what the two of you get up to in the confines of the lush, opulent bedroom, what with his obsession with you; the white-haired man can't shut up about how adorable you looked in just your panties and thigh highs with a scrunched up nose and a touch of tears at the corner of your eyes. Not to say the sheer number of times the circle of Bonten managers had to hear again and again during actual official meetings about the long string of 0s that your used underwear fetches in auctions online, and how yummy he thought your round butt looked when he finally got to fuck you after the camera was off (the absolute simp) until Mikey finally tells him to shut the fuck up. Maybe Mikey would be the sole exception given he simply has no interest in anything or anyone else, but his mental stability around someone as soft and delicate as you would be what Koko calls into question. So in conclusion, it would be a cold day in hell before he lets you venture out of your luxurious shared room when any of them are out and about and allow them to even lay their eyes on you.

But as a working executive himself and the extremely busy treasurer of an organization as large and sophisticated as Bonten, there are definitely extended periods where work gets in the way of you and him, but your needs that require you to venture out remain despite Koko trying his best to have as many facilities built ensuite for you. You still had your weekly private doctor appointments to attend and clothes fittings to go to (absolutely no one was allowed in your room if you were in and he was not). Because how could he not buy you the best money can afford? You were his whole life, his only reason to keep living and trudging foward. So the one reluctant exception to his rule would be Kakucho; stoic, distant and an all-round good-hearted guy deep down. An unlucky soul much like himself that unfortunately somehow found his way into the underworld life, Koko felt that Bonten’s third in command would be the one that he could trust to look after you when he wasn’t free to and more importantly, keep his hands off of you no matter how delectable and snackable you looked much unlike those disgusting Haitani twins, even if both Ran and Rindo vehemently deny all and every allegation.

And stoic Kakucho was from the first day he came to pick you up from your room for a usual appointment for a high fashion fitting - you had let a surprised exclamation slip out when you opened your door to him. Barely speaking to you except when he absolutely needed to to give you instructions, keeping a respectable distance away from you and declining to touch you in any way or form, escorting you straight to the secured location and then back to your room (where Koko was already hiding and eagerly awaiting your return), making sure you locked the door behind him. A quick rub and sniff of your panties found it to be completely unwet, and the black-haired man passed the unspoken test run. Kakucho was a perfect fit for the occasional job, living up to his loyal name, and Koko was sure to reward the man handsomely for the trouble, not blinking an eye even when the money came from his own pocket for anything that Kakucho might desire.

Yet unknown to Bonten’s finance guru, even if Kakucho have said less than a handful of words to you, you were still happy to chatter away with a new face, something you hadn’t had the privilege to do for god only knows how long. Koko despises it when your attention wavers from him for even a second without a very good reason, and the last thing you wanted was to get anyone into trouble; but your clingy partner never seem to find out when you talk to Kakucho in the privacy of the armoured vehicle you two ride. And so you talk, starting with the mundane stuff like what you read in the few magazines and books you were allowed when Koko was too busy to whine for your affection, to what you were looking forward to eating and trying, venturing to even mentioning about the few times you’ve seen others walk by your room through the peephole, which you were explicitly forbidden from doing. Interestingly enough, you never once had anything bad to say about Koko or the panty auctions that you certainly weren’t a willing participant in.

And despite everything that you had been put through, the gleam in your doe eyes never faded, and you enjoyed the rare minutes that you were allowed to peer out of the car window at the city around you whizzing by, fascinated at even the simplest things - a convenient store that you fondly remember, a playground, a school. You would become the sole light of Kakucho’s life, the last remnants of innocence that Kakucho grasps on to as if a lifeline in the turbulent, harsh sea that was Bonten. Upbeat, positive and truly naive, Kakucho finally understood what was it that Koko saw in you: an escape from what reality was. An escape to what could have been. Definitely started looking forward to hearing about you during those meetings, almost disappointed when Koko was forced to stop so that they could continue discussing more dreary topics. And then the smell of you on your used panties when he finally caved and begged the website from Mikey in return for a favour. There wasn’t words that could describe what your juices smelt like; sweet, heavenly, divine, all words that paled to what he could take in. And then the disgusting, depraved thoughts that ran through his head of what he would do to you when Kakucho wrapped the thin cloth around his dick, the dark seed of utter desire and envy planted as a few pumps is all it took for him to cum, though the Bonten executive was quick to pull your underwear away to avoid getting it dirty. He paid too many zeros for this to be a one-time use.

One way or another, anything and everything that goes on within the syndicate finds its way back to Koko, and no surprise that it does. He did fill the bags and control the purse strings after all, and no one under Mikey dared deny this white-haired man the information he wanted. No doubt he learns about Kakucho’s self-funded purchase of your used panties not once but multiple times, complete with alias and covering his tracks best as he can, and Koko’s first reaction would be betrayal. This was the man he trusted to take care of you when he wasn’t looking? What else was he telling you, doing to you when there were no eyes? And an agitated Koko is not someone you liked to deal with, instantly turning on you with jealousy and possessiveness burning behind his eyes, tight slap to your face leaving you reeling before strong hands closed over your throat as he pinned you to the bed, questioning you again and again about Kakucho even as you thrashed in a bid to breathe. Were you lying to him too? Were you trying to escape from him with Kakucho?

His next feeling would be smugness and greed. Of course Kakucho would fall for you like he did; you were his little perfect angel. Would Koko ever let Kakucho fuck you? Absolutely fucking not, even once this boy has rung every last bit of information from you and is finally satisfied of your loyalty to him. You were his and only his, and no matter how secure Koko felt about you, he wasn't going to share.

‎

But would he let Kakucho have the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to taste you on a livestream? Yes. Big yes. The former Black Dragon is a master at playing the game and understanding what makes someone tick, and leveraging you against someone as infatuated with you as Kakucho as a fellow executive and having that to hold over his head for bascially nothing was a no-brainer. The black-haired man wouldn’t realize that Koko already knew about his secretive buying habits when he is invited over to Koko’s room, thinking it’ll just be another escort job. It would be gut-wrenching for Kakucho to walk in and see you already trussed up, on all fours with your limbs in spreader bars and eyes blindfolded, your skin very clearly covered in whip marks and raised welts; and that was precisely when it set in that Koko knew. But despite this guilt at you having taken the punishment for something he did, Koko’s offer instantly had the other second guessing himself.

One favour, and he could touch and smell and taste you as long as he wanted, even keep your panties afterwards - with the conditions that there would be no penetration with fingers or dicks, that Koko would be present and watching from the corner of the room, and that it was all on livestream. Your thighs already trembling at the effort to keep you up as Kakucho approached, eagerly crawling towards you even as you hoarsely repeated his name, telling him that you didn’t want this. He knew this was wrong, he knew he shouldn’t, but your tantalisingly wet pussy glistening with your juice was too big a temptation. One press of his face in between your legs and there was nothing more Kakucho could think about in the moment, sucking and licking and tongue-fucking you, his big hands wrapped around your thighs and keeping you up as your lovely voice moaned his name and your body shook at the exertion as you came again and again and again.

And the livestream instantly explodes into outrage, much to Koko’s delight exactly as he had predicted. Who was this stranger who had the sheer privilege of being there with you, tasting your milk as you cum around his tongue? Was this some sort of hidden tier they had yet to unlock with their bid amounts? How much did he pay for this opportunity? But all answers went unanswered, and the bidders could only put forth their best guess. Of course Koko would never disclose that something like this was priceless, given all the doors that could be unlocked with a single favour from Kakucho, and the many future opportunities for business given Kakucho would never stop craving you - but he allowed the masses to stew and bemoan and hypothesise, the already outrageous numbers that your panties garner on the auction growing to even more ludicrous numbers as your wealthy fans try their best.

I’m kinda curious who your redacted-kuns are and how you think Koko would react hehehehe

[stusbunker]

Tattered: The Things We’ve Been Promised and Fought for

A SPN ABO Fan-fiction Series

Featuring: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Dean, Cas/Meg

Word Count: ~5600

Warnings, etc: Rushed through rut sex, Dean disappearing to go after the Leviathans, building a bigger pack, the babies arrive (hospitals, blood, c-section, nursing), and a jump forward

Series Masterlist

Special shout out to @lastactiontricia​​ for putting up this series the entire time.

SAM

Cas was actually right. She’s fine. The babies are fine. I don’t know if I’d call it a miracle, but it’s a win and we’ll take it. The doctors asked her if she’d be interested in being included in a medical paper. She told them she’d think about it, being warned by an angel about our claim imbalance is a bit harder to reproduce in further studies.

And the last thing we really want is more questions.

She smells like sunbaked wheat fields and some kind of pastry, warm and comforting as she nuzzles me awake. Dean’s on his belly, head shoved between his pillows snoring gently. He’s dreaming vaguely, so I know we’ve got time to ourselves. I reach down and palm her ass, scooping her onto my lap as I tug the sheer nightgown up by my fingers.

She’s bare against my belly as she starts to kiss me, slow and teasing. I eat it up.

I hold her jaw in the palm of my hand slowly lap into her mouth, tasting and tempting as she gets wetter against me. She’s so solid now, the pups’re over a pound each and getting bigger every appointment. I want to keep her close, make sure she’s this healthy and safe always. Fill her up over and over so no one questions that she is spoken for, claimed by and possessing both our hearts. I need to be inside her, ten minutes ago.

She groans and then chuckles knowingly. “Your rut is coming up, I can smell it, it’s almost smokey on your skin.”

“What are we gonna do?” I ask, worry sinking in my gut.

“What we always do, fuck like crazy, hydrate. Rinse and repeat.”

“But what about the pups?”

She smirks down at me like I’m an idiot. “Sam, alphas have been fucking their pregnant omegas since the begining of time. Rut sex isn’t a threat, unless you tie me down and leave me somewhere—”

“I would nev-”

She brushes her thumb over my lips. “I know, stud, I know. I’m just saying. We’ll get through it. Dean might be pissy, but he gets his turn soon enough.”

I nod against her hold on my chin and she rewards me with a firm kiss. I hug her close and breathe in the calm she radiates, nosing against her hair. I won’t hurt her. I can’t.

She reaches between our bodies and starts stroking me back to life. I groan, watching as she rubs against my side, riling herself up just as much. I spin us on to our sides and she rolls to slot her ass against me, keeping it quiet for Dean, who’s still asleep behind me.

      "Easy," I murmur and kiss the back of her neck. I sink inside her slowly, inch by inch. She's even tighter at this angle and I close my eyes and breathe. I need to make this last for her.

       She gasps and starts rocking against me, so I pull her tighter to my chest. The smell of her slick fills the room and I love her so much I don't know what to do with it all. I cup her tit and marvel at how heavy they've gotten, nuzzling against my claim on her neck.

     I push into her in shallow rolls. My knot is hot against her ass. But we're in no hurry. She keeps sighing and squeezing me. My name coming out in little slices of whisper.

  "It's okay, baby."

   She breaks off on a moan and I brush my fingers over her nipple to give her more. But I keep it slow, building, trying not to rush anything. She pulls my fingers off her nipple and sucks them into her mouth, which is just —- then she drags them out and down to her clit. And as I slide them against that swollen nub, she clenches and my knot throbs. I gasp against her hair, trying to breathe through it all.

  Stopping myself from fucking her into the mattress, because I know she likes to be tossed around, even now.

    “Make me come first, Alpha—- Sam, please, I’m so close—,” she demands more than begs and I’m fucking trying, but she’s so wet I’m losing any purchase I have on her clit. I seal her lips around it, and rub, feeling it all hot and grinding against my hand. She’s digging her nails into the back of my neck, holding me as close as we can get from this angle and I’m going to explode.

   I teeth down the side of her face, landing on the hinge of her jaw and instead of biting her, I suck the smooth skin into my mouth. I can feel her blood drawing into the bruise, the delicious heat. Her claws are latched into my flesh and she keens, coming with a bucking thrash against my side— her legs kicking the last of the blankets off my side of the bed.

   I lick the sweat off her neck and pin her mound with the heel of my hand as I finish rutting my knot into her pulsing core. God— I swear I don’t know how I fit, but she fucking makes room for me or something because when I lock into place it’s like the first day out of the cage again. Her scent floods me with completion— contentment and I’m blinking away the tears. Mine. Ours. Us.

    I place my hand on her belly, dragging it up and down, feeling the shape of our pups inside and I pour even more pride and love into the air.

When we wake up, Dean’s gone. He left us a note saying: ‘Have a good rut. Fridge is stocked.’

*

It takes us two days to realize Cas and Bobby are gone too, between the house and salvage yard it’s a ghost town and we both know that can’t be good. But I can’t go and find anybody with a constant erection and reeking of rut. Besides, she’s got us nested down so good I’d probably lose my nuts if I even suggested we leave.

We’re both exhausted, but hydrated. And I’m eating her out like I’m going for the record. Not that Dean and I keep score, or anything. Or at least not that she knows about.

She’s riding my face and I can’t even see her tits anymore, her belly’s so big and that’s saying something because her tits have never been better. Fuck she’s so close I can taste the change in her slick— like it gets ultra concentrated just before —- I’m drowning in it, slurping it up and feeling her thighs trembling against me.

I’m hard as fucking steel and I don’t even want to touch my dick. I want to stay here on the verge of suffocation surrounded by my mate’s scent, her warmth. It makes me think of poems from school, of dying willing in your lover’s arms. Take my life, it is already yours.

And then she’s gone, slumped against the pillows and fanning herself as she catches her breath. I grin at her and wipe my mouth off with the back of my arm. She rolls her eyes at me and beckons me closer. I fall against her, hugging her middle as best I can while arching around the pups. My dick is persistent, but remains ignored along her leg.

She plays with my hair and I moan as she starts to scratch my scalp.

I can smell it on her before she voices it out loud, but still she says. “I’m worried about Dean, Sam.”

“I know, me too.”

"Do you think the Leviathans got them?”

“No. I don’t.”

“Just like that. No?” She looks at me like I’m lying to her, which I haven’t been able to manage since I got my soul back.

I shake my head, chewing on the explanation for my conviction. “It’s just, we’d feel it if something big happened, wouldn’t we? I think they’re hunting, but I don’t think it’s Def Com 6 here. Plus Cas and Bobby are with him— Dean’s gonna be fine.”

“You’re not just saying that because you want to keep fucking like rabbits, right?”

I sigh and try not to glare at her. But she smirks at me and I know she knows I was being sincere. “Very funny.”

“Dean’s not the only one that can give you shit, mister,” she teases, sinking further down my body to plop into my lap.

I nuzzle my nose against hers and she hums before she kisses me firmly on closed lips. “Even though you’re sure, I’d feel better if everyone was back home. So! Let’s see if we can get this rut over quickly then, just in case.”

I shake my head at her front of nonchalance, but agree wholeheartedly. “Can’t argue with that.”

*

They pull into the driveway two days later, dragging the impala behind them in Bobby’s truck. And they’re not alone. Cas and Meg ride in on the bed of the truck, presumably because they couldn’t be killed by something as inconsequential as an accident. And there’s Charlie, who I’ve only really talked to on the phone, looking a little dazed, but enthusiastically climbing out of the cab to shake hands with Y/N and me. Both Bobby and Dean look like they haven’t slept in days, and Dean’s got a shiner and his new coat is still covered in Leviathan juice.

“So?”

“We got him, Sammy. Dick’s dead. They’re all gone.”

“What, seriously? How?!”

“Bone of a nun, straight to the neck,” Dean gestures and grins, wagging his eyebrows. “I stuck it to ‘em.”

Our Omega, having enough of Dean’s antics, pulls him in for a proper scenting, opening his jacket and looking him over as he rests his hands on her hips, widening his stance so he is low enough to look her in the eye. “I’m fine, honey, really.”

“Tell me everything, from the beginning, like how you ran out on us without any way of knowing where you were!” She fumes, shaking him by the collar and pushes him away. Dean barely has to step back to withstand the weak force of her shove. He sighs and rolls his neck to look at me for back up. I hold up my hands and claim no loyalty in this spat.

He flips me off.

“Look, Sammy needed you here and, well, we got word it was time to move on the head honcho, so we took it.”

“What happened to Baby?”

Meg spoke up for the first time, husky voice deliberately unmussed. “That would be me. Drove her through their little glass welcome screen. Lucky me, I got to be a diversion.”

The story slowly unravels, Charlie sneaking Dean and Cas in. Cas identifying the real Dick Roman or the head chomper wearing his face. Saving the prophet Kevin, who they somehow lost when Crowley stepped in to help. And Cas flying Dean out of the blast zone just in time before the Leviathans got literally sucked back into Purgatory.

“So, uh, we’ve still got some clean up to do. Finding the kid. But I think —” Bobby explains before he gets cut off by Cas.

“We did good.”

“You’re damn right we did,” Dean agrees, holding hands with the mother of our children as we all drink and eat around the large banquet table Bobby built for us.

I can’t believe it’s over. “Well, Crowley can’t be too hard to get a lead on. We’ll get Kevin back to his mom.”

And just like that the mood turns sober. Before long, Bobby and Y/N take Charlie back to his house to help get a room ready for her to crash in until she gets her next move figured out. Which leaves Meg, Cas, Dean and I continuing to sip our drinks and shoot the shit.

“Look at you Winchesters, properly domesticated and everything,” Meg teased, eyeing the beams above her head and taking in the quality of Dean and Bobby’s craftsmanship.

“I know, right?” I agree, unable to stop the heat that burns across my cheeks.

“Awww, it’s okay, Sam. Maybe we all deserve a little bit of happiness this side of the apocalypse,” Meg says to Cas more than anyone. Cas, who had been eerily quiet, suddenly looks up and they lock eyes with something earnest and maybe a little dirty passing between them.

I clear my throat before Dean gets offended, because he’s already weirded out that we broke the warding for Meg. “You guys have any plans? Cas, any word from Daphne?”

“Uh, no, unfortunately when I didn’t return promptly from my first visit, she slowly realized that my abilities couldn’t be the claim to fame she was seeking. So, we parted ways and as I couldn’t be legally married as I don’t exist as a citizen, we didn’t really have to annul anything.”

“Heartbreaker,” Meg taunts.

“Wow, that’s good, Cas. I guess. One less loose end,” Dean agrees.

“I know you’ve been hanging out with Bobby a lot, thinking about sticking around? The more the merrier, right Dean?” I ask pointedly.

“I hadn’t really thought about it. I need to talk to Heaven, see if I can begin to atone. But it would be nice to have a homebase of sorts on Earth,” Castiel replies almost shyly.

“Well, you know where to find us, man. Because until those pups are out and until they’re walking, we’ve got one job to do,” Dean says and it all hits me. We don’t have to keep hunting. Sure, we can, but we don’t have to. We can have a life. Bobby will put us to work and we’ll do what we can for money, but once Kevin is safe. We’re just gonna be dads.

It’s unreal.

DEAN

It’s been two weeks since we took down Dick and yet Meg and Cas and hell, even Charlie have stuck around. Though Bobby won’t let Meg in his house, considering she tried to kill him at least once. But at this point, who hasn’t she tried to kill?

Charlie’s fascinated with all things hunting and the demon-angel team up sounds like something out of one of her video games so she can’t stop asking questions. Bobby’s actually having a lot of fun having her around, think she’s growing on the old bastard by sheer earnestness. And there’s our Omega, who is about fit to burst. She’s gone through the babies’ room everyday trying to figure out what we forgot, what we’re missing. 

Her waddling around like that makes me stupid and proud, but also just so damn happy that I start putting my foot in my mouth because it all seems too good to be true. Sam hates it when I piss her off, but it’s not like it’s intentional. I just can’t leave well enough alone.

The current argument is over names. Because everybody’s healthy in there, so we start getting serious about these pups we���re gonna meet any day now.

“Do not say John again— I will smack you,” Y/N growls.

“Dean, yeah, man, come on,” of course Sam agrees with her.

I know my dad’s name comes with a lot of baggage, but I still miss the son of a bitch anyway. Just not quite why she’s got such a vendetta against it, it’s a classic name. 

I grumble and concede this time. “Okay, fine, what do you like?”

“Jasper or maybe Jeremiah,” she replies, not bothering to look up from her little notebook that she has them all listed out on.

“Can we stay away from Pop culture names? Jasper is really popular lately,” Sam asks delicately, because yeah, we’re not doing the vampire name game, but still I hold my breath waiting for her to explode.

She sighs and crosses it off the list.

I see how tired she is and rub her knee under the table. “How about we go back to the girls’ names? Huh? Maybe if we get a small enough pool, we can narrow down the boy’s name better.”

We discuss names for another hour. Nobody agrees on any three names. But there’s some progress. Sort of.

Sam makes fajitas and I go and find Cas, even though he doesn't eat, gotta let everybody know it’s dinner time. He’s standing in one of the fields that I’m pretty sure don’t belong to Bobby, but I’m not about to go tattling either.

“Hey, man, soup’s on.”

Cas turns on me, all squinty eyed and concerned. “Hello, Dean.”

“Can you grab Meg and tell her to wash up for dinner? Sam says it will be ready in a minute here. I’ll go tell Charlie and Bobby.”

He walks with me towards the main house, but something must be up because he’s extra quiet. Not like listening to the universe or angel radio quiet, just thoughtful. He doesn’t go looking for Meg and soon we are stomping up the back steps in through Bobby’s kitchen.

“Dean? How did you know you were ready to take a mate?” Cas' question comes out of left field, but it also makes a lot of sense with the way he’s been acting.

“Uh— I don’t think I was ready, man. I mean, look at us, we kind of fucked things up before we really got it right. Why?”

“I also seemed to have—- fucked things up. When I lost my memories— with Daphne. But I realize now that I probably wouldn’t be able to make a human mate happy.” Cas looks up at me with a wavering dare in his eyes.

“Oh, shit!” I can’t believe he means—

“Don’t tell Sam, not yet. I just have begun thinking about pursuing her.”

“Yeah, man, I get it. But what about making amends with Heaven? A demon mate can’t be too far down on the No-No list.”

“Mating in general is considered beneath us, Dean.”

I can’t help the heat of shame that rises up, gaping at my best friend like a middle schooler during health class. But Cas has been in the trenches with us mud monkeys long enough, I guess I had forgotten just how holy he was. Maybe it’s also because we’re standing in Bobby’s too small kitchen and I can feel the old man’s eyes on me like an overzealous librarian.

“You got a reason for busting in here with your locker room talk or just felt the need to make everyone else uncomfortable?” Bobby glares at me then looks at Charlie who just waves innocently.

“Uh, food?” I swallow and try again. “Dinner’s ready.”

By a fucking miracle, we all make it to our place without more oversharing on anybody’s part.

*

Everything is so loud, but it’s like background loud, sitting next to a horror movie showing loud. Which is fitting, because there’s a lot of blood. And it’s getting harder to see, but I can’t do anything about it because my hands are full.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m your dad— one of ‘em anyway.” I swear she turns and looks at me, like she knows the sound of my voice. But her eyes are squeezed shut and she’s still screaming. And I’m crying worse than she is, because she’s here and she’s healthy and Y/N is a fucking miracle worker. She’s perfect. 

They’re all perfect.

Sam’s got the boy while the doctors clean up his little girl. She had a cord wrapped around her neck, but they could see everything once they got in there, so she’s fine. Sophia. That’s the name Sam and Y/N picked for her. Wisdom. It fits. 

I’m bouncing Joni, trying to get her to calm down as they put our Omega back together again. I walk over to where her face is behind the curtain, show her how amazing she is. How awesome our pup is. Pups are.

“Hey, Mama,” I can’t keep the tease out of my voice, I’m just so fucking happy. “Somebody wants to say hi.”

“Hi!” She sobs out, reaching as best she can with her arms pinned down to kiss a tiny forehead. 

The nurses clear some room on her chest, get her arms free so she can hold her, skin-to-skin they say. Once I know she’s got Joni good, I go and see how Sophie’s doing. Her cry is reedy, softer than her sister’s but still breaks my heart wide open. Once the nurse says I can, I scoop her up and hold her tight against my shoulder, whispering to her as we bounce-step over to her mom. 

“Sorry, sweetheart, we had to give Mama a minute. But now we’ve got you. Everybody’s safe.” I tell her as much as myself. I lock eyes with Sam as he is scenting Jimmy’s dark head. Leave it to our son to come out with a full head of hair. 

He’s not talking, but I can tell Sam’s just as much a mess as I am. I walk over and show off Sophie and he hands me our boy in exchange. He’s all wide eyed and looking around at everybody. Never seen a baby so alert. But I’m guessing that will change. These three are gonna put us all through the ringer— fill our lives with the new and the unknown.

It’s mesmerizing. And terrifying.

It’s a long time before they move us into a family room, they don’t even let us carry them down the hall. Instead we have three little plastic boxes on wheels that we push, along with a nurse, behind Y/N’s gurney. They help her figure out how to feed them. And I know Sam’s listening to all the technical crap about latching and pumping. 

But I am just amazed at her, exhausted as she is, cooing down at our pups as they nurse. Joni’s the smallest, but they all made it long enough to not have to worry about being hooked up to anything. Which I am gonna call Cas out on later, because the odds were near impossible on avoiding a NICU stay with triplets, but somehow we managed it.

Joni and Jimmy have been burped and are sleeping in their little blanket burritos tucked into a single bassinet. They’re used to close quarters and I can already tell they’re better together than apart. Sophie sleeps against Y/N chest, too tired from being born to really eat yet, but the nurse says it’s normal. Sam grabbed a shower and eventually Y/N will get a turn, but she’s got to worry about all the stitches and staples, so it might be just sponge baths for a few days.

I try not to get excited about helping her with those. 

We’ve got a lot more things to worry about now. And that kind of thinking got us here in the first place. I lose the last layer of scrubs and  leave the bathroom door open so I can hear them if they need me, if a nurse catches a peek, who cares at this point. Finally, we’re all clean and wedged on her bed, a baby a piece and everything quiets down. We shift and scent and just exist together for the first time, all six of us. God, it’s a whole pack now. We’re a real family.

Nothing will ever be better than this.

Five Years Later

Bobby

If I wasn’t already losing my hearing, the shrieking coming out of the backseat would have done it. I pull up to the drive in and wait for the carhop to come and take our orders. Don’t tell Rufus, but this minivan handles pretty damn well.

“Grandpa? Can I have poppers?” Joni asks like it’s normal for a little girl to be ordering deep fried peppers.

“No, doll, we’re having dinner at home. This is just a quick treat, but don’t go telling on me. Your dad will be all whiney about ruining your dinner and your daddy will be mad we didn't bring him home anything.”

They all giggle. 

The waitress taps on my window and I tell her, “four rootbeer floats please. Extra napkins if you got ‘em.”

“Sure thing, hun. That’ll be eighteen eighty.”

I give her a twenty and a couple of singles, waving away the offer of change.

“Thanks, it’ll be right up.”

I can feel them all fidgeting in their little booster seats, so I turn around and unbuckle myself to talk to them better. “You have fun today?”

Sophie’s staring out the window and hugging her little ratty stuffed rabbit. But she smiles and nods. Joni and Jimmy are both bellowing, trying to be louder than the other. “Yes! It was so fun!”

“Good.” I say, trying not to get too pleased with myself.

The mugs arrive and the pups are sticky from head to toe by the time we hand them back to the carhop, mostly empty. The extra napkins get wadded up and shoved into a grocery bag Y/N keeps on a little hook in here. Shoulda grabbed some baby wipes before we left. Friggin’ evidence is gonna get us all in trouble.

I check that their belts are tight and that Jimmy can reach both of his sisters’ hands if he needs to. Once we’re all set for the drive home, Sophie’s already nodding off. Then Jimmy conks out. Silly Miss Joni singsongs herself to sleep just as I’m pulling into the driveway. It’s nice out. We’ll leave them in there with the windows down until they wake up. With three of ‘em we’ve learned to pick our battles.

And the fresh air and afternoon sunshine will be a better way to wake up than yanking them out of their seats only to try and force them back to sleep after a fright and a carry upstairs.

I let myself in and hang up the van keys by the rest of them. Somebody’s in the library and somebody's snoring upstairs. I go warn Sam to finish his chapter outside on the porch and then make my way back to my place. I pass Charlie’s little trailer and don’t bother to knock, she’s hunting with Jody and the girls this week, but make sure she didn’t leave any lights on.

Cas and Meg’s place is aways in the back, more of a house than a barn, since we did it from the ground up. But it suits them, as much as they come and go. Then there’s Garth and Bess, never figured I’d have nearly a full set of monsters for neighbors, but life is nothing if not surprising. They’re expecting their first pup in a couple of months. I’ve been working on fixing up an old conversion van for them, but parts take forever. It’s funny, never saw that dipshit so normal as he is as a werewolf.

Kevin stops by from time to time, but that’s between research positions. He graduated from college and is working on a doctorate already. His mother calls me once a month whether I’ve heard from him or not. I don’t hate the check ins. 

The birthday party is tomorrow, giving everybody more time to make it in.

I can’t believe the kids are already five. Starting school next fall and everything. It makes me feel every inch a grandpa. Because I remember when Sam was that size and now he’s got his own to worry over. It’s been years, but it feels like yesterday. I check that the gifts I have tucked away for them are still safely hidden, because the rascals are curious little things. Had to move the Christmas presents to Jody’s after last year, got into them a whole week before I even had my tree up.

*

“Okay, time! Time. Sophie, it’s Jimmy’s turn,” Dean braves the terribly aimed swings of the old broom and catches it before she swipes into the snack table. Jimmy’s been waiting with his blindfold looped around his neck. The crepe paper donkey is swinging idly where Y/N holds the rope over the branch.

Everyone here knows this is going to take awhile. But without any other kids in line, we’re gonna let them have their fun.

“Good job Sophia!” Cas calls through his hands. She peeks out of her blindfold and groans at the fully intact pinata.

“Jimmy! Whack it good!” Joni crows and everyone cheers along with her. Sam collects Sophie’s blindfold and ties it around Joni’s neck as she waits for her turn. Sophie slumps over and leans against me like she’s run a marathon.

I don’t bother asking her what’s wrong, she’s a pouter, but she’s not showy about it. She thinks she didn’t do a good enough job, so I’m just gonna hold her while she watches her brother fall over himself missing the moving target too. Joni gets a good couple thwacks in, but the dumb donkey’s still holding all the candy when Dean decides it’s his turn.

“Now you watch, your daddy isn’t gonna be able to get it either.” And bless her, Y/N kept that pinata out of Dean’s reach the entire two minutes we gave him. Then it became a taunting exercise between the adults. After enough of them had laughed themselves stupid, I stood up, setting Sophie down gently. 

“Alright, idjits, it’s time for sudden death. No blindfolds, only spinning and let the birthday pups get their candy.” Being the pack elder has its perks and times like this is one of them.

Joni teeters over with laughter as she swings. She catches the rope around the broom handle and pulls the whole thing down with little resistance from Y/N’s grip. She beats the cardboard animal within an inch of recognition and finally a hole caves in and the other two pounce in for the candy as soon as the weapon is out of play.  Dean hands it over their heads to Sam. 

Jimmy keeps trying to stuff candy in his pockets, but they’re too full and he’s losing more than he’s saving, meanwhile the girls just use their shirts like aprons. We are all bent over in tears, but the kids have their haul and nobody is gonna forget this party. Between Jody’s pictures and Meg’s recording on her phone, we’ll be able to bring it up for blackmail in the future.

Dean grabs the last handful of candy out of the carcass before he tosses it on the woodpile for next burning day. He doesn’t share, figures.

“Alright, before you go on about singing and cake, I’m handing out my gifts first,” I announce. “Over here you rascals.”

I march across the yard and head to a little strip of grass along the tree line. The kids are racing after me, I can hear their mother yelling at them to be careful since they’re in their nice clothes for the party.

But it’s an outdoor party and she should have known better, if you ask me.

I stop beside a big lump of canvas and wait for their little legs to catch up. I look down at them and give them the rules. “You have to take turns. You cannot cut in front of each other. And you do not use these on one another either, ya hear me?”

“Yes, Grandpa.” Three little voices nod, half listening half wiggling with excitement.

“Okay.” I pull the cloth off the target and step back hiding the packages behind my back.

“Ooooooo!”

“A target?”

“Are we shooting it?”

“No, guns are for grown ups. But if you get good, maybe you can hit it with one of these.” I fan out the bundles in front of me, letting them each pick one. Sam’s close now, eyeing me and I know what he’s thinking. But it’s not about hunting, not that kind of hunting at least. He grabs up the wrapping paper as the kids shred it to pieces to keep it from blowing away and becoming litter.

“A bow and a quiver!” Jimmy exclaims.

“I’m gonna be the Green Arrow!” Joni declares.

“I’m Huntress,” Sophie decides.

“I’m gonna be Hawk-guy.” Jimmy finally adds after much thought.

Dean chuckles. But Charlie calls over, “It’s Hawkeye, buddy.”

“Right. Hawkeye. I didn’t know that one either,” Y/N adds, shrugging.

I get them for the next hour, showing them how to crook the bow, and notch the arrow. They listen better for me than anybody, but seeing them this hooked on my every word made my damn month. They’re naturals, even if they don’t have the arm strength yet. We let them shoot from ten feet. Then finally Garth and Charlie convince them it’s time for cake.

I let it go. Because I know I will have them crawling through my backdoor everyday until they’re pros. It’s a selfish gift, but it’s an even trade. Let their parents off the hook about preparing them for everything out there, while giving me an excuse to spend more time with them. When they’re old enough we’ll go after turkeys for Thanksgiving, not wendigos or vampires.

They’ll have the skills and none of the burden their folks had at their age. 

I nod at Y/N as she sets three mini cakes down on the table, letting them each blow out a matching number five. She’s a good mom and I can’t help but be a little proud about that fact. She’s not mine, but she always had a piece of my heart. Then there’s those two knuckleheads that somehow manage to keep her healthy, happy and safe. I couldn’t hope for any better for any of them. And I’m just grateful I’m still around to see it all happen.

Tell me what you think?

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[fwtomura]

Breathe Into Your Hungry Appetite

cw: ghostsoap (simon riley x john mactavish), modern au, drug dealer au, mentions of weed, eventual smut, that’s abt it.

CHAPTER TWO, CHAPTER THREE

this is my first time posting on fucking tumblr so don’t give me shit for this😞😞 this fic is abt drug dealer soap and buyer simon where they’re got a ton of sexual tension but don’t really know how to act on it without the help of weed :3 !

Mornings were never a favorite time of day for Simon Riley. Eleven o‘clock could hardly even be considered morning, but it was by his standards. He awoke with that same dull, aching pain in his lower back. He wasn’t able to tell if it was from sleeping weirdly or his mattress that was nearly half his age at this point, but he didn’t entirely care regardless.

Whatever the reason, his joints still ached as he sat up to stretch, pushing the blankets off of his body to form a messy pile in the empty side of his bed. His feet met the carpet before he stood up, prompting his lazy shuffle towards the bathroom as he rubbed the residual sleep from his eyes.

He didn’t spare a thought towards his unmade bed. What the hell was the point of making it if he was just going to sleep on it and mess it up again?? He went through the motions of the rest of his morning routine; brushing his teeth, splashing a bit of water on his face to wake himself up fully, and getting a comb through his hair just enough to make it look a bit less of a mess than usual before he went back into his room to smoke a bowl. He was running low on his weed. He made a mental note to message Soap about it later.

He’d only been smoking for the last year or so after some encouragement from his brother, Tommy. God only knows how much Tommy heard from his complaining about his insomnia and back pain. His suggestion had been to start smoking weed and to his credit, it worked. it was a bit less of a conventional method by most people’s standards, but it worked and saved Simon the trouble of having to book too many doctor appointments just to be giving medication that could make things worse instead of properly helping him.

The gratification was nearly instant as soon as Simon felt the smoke hit his lungs, the gentle burn in his throat keeping him grounded as he exhaled. His morning ritual of smoking a bowl was always just as rewarding. Feeling his head slowly filling with cotton and everything around him dulling was euphoric, even bordering on therapeutic. The ache in his limbs and back dulling with each slow inhale from his pipe, his head finally seeming to grow quiet for just a moment was nothing short of pure bliss. He was shocked back into reality by a small piece of ash maneuvering it’s way through the pipe, into his mouth, and conveniently striking him in the back of his throat, sending Simon into a rather brutal coughing fit. Roach would call those “scooby snacks”and Simon felt the need to tell him how stupid it sounded every time he said it. It sounded childish but he still felt it was an accurate description.

He quickly cleaned up his setup as soon as he finished, clearing out the pipe and making a mental note to properly wash it later, but it was highly likely that he wouldn’t end up actually doing it. He headed downstairs to make breakfast. It was just a bowl of cereal, but he needed to keep himself fed at the very least. He turned the TV in the living room on for some background noise, not too bothered with properly watching it.

The vast majority of his mornings started off like this. He worked part time evening shifts at a record shop that was a ten minute walk away from his house. If Simon wasn’t working, he was more than likely spending time at home either playing his guitar or sleeping. He didn’t tend to get out of the house too much, but he preferred it that way. He rarely left the house aside from work or to get weed and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Meeting up with friends was exhausting and he always needed to be alone for a few hours after any kind of heavy social interaction. Every overlapping sound of conversations, to music, to people just walking around were overwhelming. Smoking helped him stay calm for the most part, but it only helped to a certain extent. He would proudly be a hermit for the rest of his life, it didn’t bother him in the slightest.

One of the few people Simon interacted with regularly was his dealer. His name was ‘Soap’ but Simon knew he that wasn’t his actual name. He just hadn’t gotten around to bullying that information out of him yet. Soap was.. a fairly interesting character, to say the least. He was only a couple years younger than Simon and around half a head shorter than him.

Simon had never seen Soap dressed up nicely. The vast majority of the time, he was wearing a black t-shirt, either black or grey matching sweatpants, and a pair of slides with socks that looked like they’d been to hell and back. He always wore the same gold cross around his neck, which Simon was almost positive was fake but wasn’t sure. Soap smelled like expensive cologne and weed typically. He was undeniably attractive despite the overgrown mohawk/mullet that Simon would frequently bully him for having. He was good looking but he seemed to have a habit of getting under Simon’s skin every time he saw him. It pissed Simon off, but he still enjoyed his presence.

Fuck. That’s what he’d been forgetting. He needed to text him. He sat down his cereal and grabbed his phone, shooting Soap a quick text.

💀: hey, are u busy rn?

🧼: never too busy 4 u

🧼: what do you need?

Soaps response came quicker than Simon expected. He always had a habit of responding quickly when it came to him, but it still managed to surprise him sometimes.

💀: running a bit low. could you swing by sometime today with an ounce?

🧼: ill be there in 20

As annoying as Simon found himself at times, Soap had always had a habit of being particularly punctual with his “delivery” times. They had built up a bit of a routine through their time together. Soap would pull up, Ghost would get in the car with him, and they’d drive around for a bit so that the interaction would seem less suspicious, and Soap would drop him back off with his weed.

Even though Soap said he’d be there in twenty minutes, Simon still went downstairs and sat on the couch, almsot immediately putting his shoes on and scrolling through his phone to pass time. It felt extremely awkward, and Roach frequently gave him shit for it, but Simon liked being able to head straight out of the door as soon as he heard Soap’s shitty Honda pulling into his neighborhood. He could hear it from nearly a block away every time. Soap never sad to send him a text letting him know that he was there.

“Are you waiting for Soap?” Simon nearly startled when he heard Roach speak. He’d come into the living room from the kitchen. Despite being so tall, Roach always seemed to move through the house without a sound and startle Simon at least once per day.

“Jesus H.. Need to get you a bell or something. Yeah, I am.” Simon sat up properly, watching as Roach gave him a quick nod before walking towards the stairs.

“You don’t need to wait by the door like a fuckin’ dog every time he’s coming by.”

“And you need to get a better fucking’ hobby than giving me shit all day.” Simon waved him off briefly before checking the time on his phone. Soap would e arriving any minute. As harsh as he was towards Roach, he was one of the few people who he was properly close to. They’d both seen each other at their respective low points and were extremely close, but Roach knew how to get under Simon’s skin just like how Tommy would when they were still living together. Simon frequently wanted to put him in a headlock, but that was just their friendship.

Like clockwork, Simon heard Soap pulling up outside and he left the house just as Soap was pulling into the driveway. He drove a rather beat up looking old, white Honda civic. Three of the door had rust on them, one of them didn’t even open, and all of the hubcaps were scuffed as all hell, the cheap gold overlay revealing the lover quality metal underneath. The car was never clean, interior or exterior, but Simon never judged that. He didn’t even have a car so arguably, Soap was faring much better than he was.

As soon as Soap put the car in park, Ghost was opening the door and sitting down. The floor was the cleanest that he’d seen it recently, having only a few empty bottles along with some scattered napkins across the mat. Soap didn’t even have to move anything off of the passenger seat so that Ghost could sit down.

“Even cleaned up for meg How polite…” Ghost mumbled as he sat down, quickly buckling his seatbelt as Soap started backing out of the driveway. His arm was pressed against the back of Simon’s headrest, perfectly displaying the tattoos and veins trailing down his forearms. Ghost would be lying if he said he didn’t want to—

“Only the best for my favorite customer.” There was laying it in thick again. As much as Ghost liked to pretend that it bothered him, he did enjoy how Soap tended to dote on him whenever they were together. It was hard to tell him to back off whenever he’d flash that same charming smile while sily fiddling with his cross. He had a certain charm to him that Ghost couldn’t help but be drawn to.

“Are you hungry? Have you eaten today?”

“I ate today, yeah.” Soap always had the tendency to check on him like this, and as much as Ghost found it annoying, it wa strangely endearing.

“If you’re hungry, we can go get something. I don’t mind the extra trip if you are.” Fucking hell . He wasn’t a child, he could feed himself.

“You don’t need to, I’m fine. You’re already bringing me weed, I don’t need food on top of that.” Ghost fiddle awkwardly with the cash in his pocket, blushing ever so slightly under his back surgical mask.

“I’m just saying.. If you change your mind, let me know, alright?” They sat in silence for a moment, Soap’s playlist on at a low volume in the background. The speakers in his car were blown out. If music was played at too high of a volume, you could barely even understand it. “What’d you think of the last stuff I gave you?”

“It was nice, definitely helped out with the sleep issues and everything else. It worked a little too well, honestly.” Ghost reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack is cigarettes, offering one to Soap before lighting one and cracking the window a bit. “I slept really well with it, but it honestly made me a bit too tired in a way. Going to work after smoking it was a fuckin’ nightmare.”

“I figured it might. That shit put me straight to sleep when I tried it. Did it help much with your back?”

“It did, yeah. Not so much waking up, but it didn’t bug me too much after having a bowl.” His check ins with Soap nearly felt like medication evaluation sometimes, but he appreciated that he cared enough to see if he got the strain right for him.

“Glad to hear it. If being tired is what got you, I have a different strain I can give you. This one’s a bit more of a head high than a body high. Should be decent for keepin’ you on your feet all day. It’s a new one I got in. I threw a couple grams of it in that baggie for you,” Soap gestured at the plastic bag stashed in the corner console. “It’s a separate from the ounce. Let me know if you end up liking it and If can give you a bit more of it whenever I see you next.”

“How much do I owe you?”

“Just forty.” Ghost nearly did a double take as soon as he spoke, freezing from where he was counting up his money.

“Only forty? Bullshit.” He turned slightly in his seat so that he could properly face Soap, his mask still pulled down beneath his chin as his cigarette dangled out of the side of his mouth.

“I’m serious. It’s on me.” Soap reached over, giving Ghost a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “It’s a new strain, and I haven’t gotten many people to try it. ‘M not gunna make you pay for it if you don’t even know if you’ll like it. It’s my treat.”

“If you fuckin’ say so…” Ghost placed the bag in his pocket, puffing on his cigarette as they kept driving. Soap was taking the same loop that he always did. It took around twenty minutes. His excuse was that it made everything look less suspicious and Ghost took his word for it.

“Hey, Soap?”

Soap gave a soft him in acknowledgment, slowly making a left turn with only one hand on the wheel.

“What’s your actual name? And don’t fuckin’ lie to me about it I know damn well your real name isn’t Soap.” He couldn’t give him too much shit, Ghost hadn’t given him his real name either. He’d make the excuse of wanting to keep his identity a bit more private, particularly when he initially met Soap. Since he’d been in contact with him for the past six months, it only felt fitting to ask that now.

“I’ll tell you if you give me your name first.” He glanced over to Ghost briefly before turning his attention back to the rode.

“It’s Simon.”

“Of all the names in the world you could’ve picked, you picked Simon?”

“Oh fuck off. What’s yours then? If you’re gunna give me shit, what’s yours?”

“It’s john.” Ghost fully barked out a laugh, nearly losing his cigarette in the process. His shoulders shook slightly as he tired to calm himself back down. “What? Don’t fuckin’ laugh! My dad picked it out you fuckin’ bastard.”

“You have absolutely no right to give me shit when your name is John. Get the fuck out of here.” Ghost wheezed softly, ashing out his cigarette into the designated cup in the center console. “Did your friends call you Johnny?”

“Fuck no. I hated that shit when I was growing up.” Soap pulled into a parking like briefly, turning the car around and starting to head back towards Ghost’s house. “I don’t mind hearing it from you though. Sounds nice.”

The rest of the drive back home to Simon’s house was made in comfortable silence, neither of them having too much else that they wanted to say. It was oddly comforting spending that time with Soap. He didn’t feel obligated to talk to him and he was extremely grateful for it. He enjoyed his company, despite the fact that he found Soap annoying as all hell at times. He was strangely endearing. He found himself hesitating to reach for the door as soon as Soap pulled into his driveway.

“Hate to drop you back home so soon.. Are you busy later tonight? Id like to see you.” Soap’s eyes felt nearly piercing from where he sat, and Simon almost immediately held eye contact. He wanted to invite him in for a moment, but decided against it.

“I’ve got laundry to do tonight, unfortunately. Maybe some other time.” It was partially a lie. Simon did enjoy his company, but he wasn’t exactly in a rush to hang out with him or have him come over.

“Let me know. Id like to hang out with you aside from just running you over your stuff.” Interesting..

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Simon opened the door of the car, stepping out before leaning down to talk to Soap easier. “I’ll talk to you later, Johnny.”

He shut the door before Soap could respond. Was it rude? Arguably, but he knew that he could end up talking to Soap for hours if he didn’t cut the conversation off. He quickly headed inside, locking the door and kicking his shoes off before heading upstairs to his room. He opened up his stash box and took the baggie that Soap had given him out of his pocket. He separated out the bags, placing the smaller bag with the new strain separately from his remaining weed. In the larger bag, there was a small box of rolling papers and… a note?

“XXX-XXX-XXXX text me? >_0”

It wasn’t entirely out of character. Considering they’d been using different apps for texting, it made sense that Soap would give him his proper phone number. Still, it felt somewhat odd. Particularly with a winky face on the note. Simon decided not to think about it all too hard.

He got everything back into his bowl, grabbing his grinder that had the remaining amount of bud that Soap had giving him previously and loading it into his bowl. He sat down onto his bed up near the headboard, cracking open the window open as not to hotbox the entire room. It was definitely on its way out, but the weed was till perfectly fine. Simon didn’t have any plans for that kuhnt and was only planning on watching TV and tuning out the world. He always preferred a laid back night that like that to going out.

He had just gotten his pipe cleaned out and put away, settling down into bed when he heard a knock at the door. Knowing it was roach, he called for him to come in.

“Hey, party at Garrick’s tonight, are you coming with?” Roach was leaning against the doorway, his hand still resting in the doorknob. A party was the absolute last thing that Simon wanted to do if he was completely honest.

“No, I’m not coming with. Tell Gaz I said hi.” Simon was hoping thad be enough to get Roach out of his hair, but judging by the scowl on his face, it apparently wasn’t.

“Dude, cut the shit. I’m convinced that you don’t leave the house outside of work and getting weed. When was the last time you saw the sun?”

“What are you, my fucking mother?”

“I’m fucking not but jesus christ, Simon. I’m worried about you, seriously. You need to get out of the house more. It’s not healthy.” Simon hated when Roach would fuss over him like this, but the behavior was warranted to an extent. He appreciated it, but it felt a little overbearing at times.

“I’m alright, Gary, I promise. I’m not feeling too good tonight,” That was a complete fucking lie, but he needed an excuse. “I’ll just be a bum if I go. You have fun, I’ll come next time.”

“Aww… does your tummy hurt??” Simon promptly flung the nearest pillow at him, which Roach expertly dodged. “Have fun sulking around the house. I’m holding you to that promise. I’m dragging you with me next time.”

“Yeah, yeah. Fuck off, go have fun. I’ll catch up with you later.” Roach tossed the pillow back over to him before shutting the door behind him. Simon heard him heading off down the stairs and out of the house, relaxing a little as he heard his car starting and driving off.

He rolled over to face the TV, barely even watching it. He could hear thunder faintly off in the distance and quickly closed his window just before the rain startled up. It was a miserable night to be out anyways. He spent the remainder of his evening curled up with his blankets, being pulled off to sleep by the soft pattering of the rain against the glass of his window.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Dark Passenger - Chapter Fifteen.

I wanted to update this yesterday, but I had to go into hospital to be checked over (don’t worry, I’m fine, just tired as I was there until 12:30am) so here, apologies for it being a little late! Again, 40 notes to unlock the next chapter. Don’t let me down!

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen

Words - 3,506 

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

“Sit, good girl. Spin, good girl! Alright, speak. Yeah, you’re smart as hell. Give paw, yes! Here you go.” Sitting in the afternoon sun two weeks on from his diagnosis, EZ enjoyed the simple pleasure of going through Sally’s tricks repertoire with her, feeding her little mouthfuls of chicken as a reward. With his medication now coursing through his system, he felt clearer headed than he had in a long time, the darkness within him caged off, the beast placated, no longer running rampant through his brain. Gone. All gone.  

Well, except for the dark passenger that remained. The dark passenger he hoped his impending radiotherapy treatment would be successful in shrinking enough for it to be removed via surgery, EZ fresh from his early afternoon appointment with Doctor Ruiz, his oncologist. She was very confident that an aggressive schedule of radiotherapy would see results, but had warned him that because of the fact they were upping the dosage of radiation to as high as safely possible in an attempt to thwart the tumour’s size and progress along with the drugs, he was likely going to feel like hell.  

The course would last for six weeks, his treatments every day for five out of seven days. Because of the fact that he was likely going to succumb to the side effects, and also was forbidden from riding or driving while going through his treatments, he’d put control of the club into Bishop’s capable hands for the duration, his VP vouching that he would run things smoothly, and all he had to concentrate on was getting better.  

Now that he’d actually decided to do so, now that he realised his life was worth fighting for.

That fight, it was less for himself and more for the family who had pleaded with him to reconsider, seeing his father moved to tears, telling him that he couldn’t bury his son, Angel and Bella also tearfully speaking of their love for him, and unwillingness to let him resign himself to something that wasn’t set in stone. Also, the little slither of optimism that if he lived, he could begin putting the wrong things right that he’d had come to him while he was in the hospital was a voice that had eventually grown so loud, he couldn’t ignore it. Dying wasn’t an option at this point.  

Still, though, he was set in his stance over one person in particular, which was a conversation he found himself having with his sister-in-law, watching her pull up in the yard, Sally wiggling with excitement over her arrival, making happy chirruping noises of delight once she saw Bella climb from her car.  

“Go get her!” Letting go of her collar, Sally hurtled over, Bella cooing ‘my sweet baby!’ while bending to lovingly stroke her face and ears. “How the hell you drive in those heels, I’ll never know.”

Bella looked at her feet and back at him. “Natural bloody talent.” Reaching him, she leaned to kiss his cheek, EZ returning the gesture before she sat down at his side. “How’d your appointment go?”

“Not bad,” he said with a slight shrug, Sally settling in at his feet. “They’re starting next Monday, if you’re still alright to take me there and run me back again? I realise you’re busy with writing, so if you can’t then don’t stress, I can get a cab.”

Bella had offered to take him for his treatments, since she had little in the way of physical commitments other than her twice weekly meets with the band to brainstorm and rehearse their new material. “Of course, it’s alright, you daft lump!” She nudged him with affection, stroking his forearm. It was lovely to have the brother-in-law she remembered back again, but Christ, it was at such a cost. “What time do we have to be there?”  

“8am. I know it’s quite early, but at least it gets it out of the way and means you’re free for the rest of the day then.”  

“Oh, your brother is going to be so pissed off. That’s his horny time,” she chuckled, EZ arching an eyebrow.  

“Surely with Angel, that’s any time he has sex on offer?”

Her snort laugh had him smiling in an instant. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true!”

“So, how’s your day been? And shit, how’d you get that? Looks sore.” Pointing to the bruise he could see forming on her inner elbow, he winced a little.  

“I’ve been taking pole dancing classes with Camille. She doesn’t charge me, and I get to do it in an environment where I don’t feel embarrassed by my thoroughbred knees, like I would in a room full of other people, so Amelia and I go to her house twice weekly around her work. She isn’t in today, so we had a morning session and then went for lunch.”

At hearing his ex’s name, his heart jumped sadly in his chest. “How is she?”

Pulling her cigarettes out, Bella lit up before replying. “I ain’t gonna sugar coat it, mate. She’s sad without you.”  

His response had left the tip of his tongue before he could process it, delivered on a soft snort. “She shouldn’t be.”

“Well, she bloody is,” Bella affirmed, trying not to be too abrupt in tone, failing somewhat. At least now she knew she wouldn’t get her head bitten off for it, being able to relax a little and not have to watch what she said, or be cautious of the tone of her delivery, save antagonising him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap, but she’s so in love with you. All she wants is for you to go back to her.”

“Bella, I can’t.” He dropped his head, looking down to where his fingers stroked swirls into Sally’s coat. “I lied to her, I cheated on her, I hit her, and I manipulated her. I know it wasn’t me, but I still did it. I don’t deserve someone as pure and beautiful as she is. I don’t. I’m not worthy of her.”  

Cocking her head until she caught his eye, she rested her hand on his forearm. “Don’t you think that’s for Camille to decide? Tell her your truth, and then let her be the judge of whether she wants to be with you.”  

He saw that there was a certain amount of sense to her words, her reasoning quite fair, but he remained resolute. “Can’t do it. Because if it is a worst-case scenario – and I’m not saying it definitely will be – but if it is, I don’t want to cause her any further pain. She’s too good for it.”

She nodded, but couldn’t help but offer another little nugget over her friend’s current state of mind regarding him. “She’s in pain already, EZ. Being without you.” Seeing her husband turning the corner in approach, she squeezed his shoulder before getting up, meeting Angel halfway with a kiss, while EZ felt like he’d just received a particularly acute punch to the gut. He could have done without hearing that, but held no grudge against Bella for revealing it. Being his family, but also friends with Camille, he could see she was trying to be loyal to them both.

While he sat in quiet contemplation, Angel and Bella headed out for lunch together, the topic of discussion eventually landing on what she and EZ had been speaking of.

“Well, I think he’s insane, having a sweet, gorgeous chick like that still wanting to be with him, but that’s EZ all over. He fucks shit up and then acts like one of those, what do they call them…” Trailing off, he snapped his fingers, frowning with concentration. “Those dudes who like pain inflicted on ‘em.”

“A masochist?” Bella offered, spearing a cherry tomato from her plentiful salad with her fork.

He clicked his fingers again, pointing at her. “Yeah, that’s it. Thank you for being the thinking part of my brain when it’s being slow-moving, my darling.”

“Hey, that’s my husband you’re bad mouthing,” she spoke through a mouthful of tomato and spinach.

“I know I ain’t the sharpest knife in the damned drawer at times, B. Besides, nobody has it all, and I got the gorgeous face, the hot body and the hella big dick, so I ain’t too pressed.”

She snorted on giggle, winking and sipping her wine. “Yes, you absolutely do, big sexy. I’m adamant in my stance that you’re smarter than you think.” Leaning across the table, she gave him a kiss, stealing one of his fries and receiving a slapped hand for it, Angel muttering something about her never ordering them as a side but always happy to steal his. “Anyway, we were talking about EZ and Camille.”

“We were,” he began, glaring when she stole another fry. “God damnit, woman! Quit it!”

“What? It was only two!”

Catching the eye of a passing server, he beckoned her over. “Can we get a side of fries here, please? Before I take my wife and throw her into that little fountain you guys have out front.”  

The server looked entertained, Bella poking her tongue out at Angel. “Sure, sir. Regular or truffe?”

“Ooooh! Truffle, please!” she confirmed, Angel exclaiming in annoyance further.

“And now I can’t steal any back because truffle tastes like burned plastic!”

She giggled, sipping her drink again. “So, back to EZ and Camille. I think he’s mental too, to be fair. I mean I get that he’s going through a hell of a lot, I honestly do, but having her there for him, supporting him while he goes through it, I can’t see why he’d turn that down, why – as you put it – he's being somewhat masochistic about it all and punishing himself for something he couldn’t help.”

“Because he thinks it’d be selfish, and he’s been like that enough towards her as it is.”  

Bella pursed her lips a little, nodding slowly. “Yep, you’re right. Thinking on it, that’s exactly what he’s doing. I wish he wasn’t, though. For his sake and hers.”  

Angel shrugged, resting his hand atop hers. “No matter how crazy we think he is, I guess we just gotta respect what he wants. Even though he’s hella wrong.”  

The four days between then and EZ’s treatment beginning seemed to pass by in a blur, until the night before was upon him, EZ taking Sally for a two hour walk before returning to an empty clubhouse, figuring the guys likely thought he needed the peace and quiet of his own company, leaving the space vacant.  

The truth was, he was looking for any distraction he could. He was nervous. Who wouldn’t be at the prospect of having something that - in greater, less contained doses, of course - killed people, burning their skin and internal organs, and left entire cities poisoned and inhabitable when unstably released into the atmosphere.  

And it was being beamed into his brain, almost every day, for a month and a half.  

“So long as it shrinks the fucking thing, I suppose.” he muttered while scrolling through the menu of the local pizza shop, before remembering that his buddy Horace had recently branched out into deliveries. Oxtail, rice and peas and hard food it was. With a side of festival. He was starving. It was surprising he had an appetite at all, but then reasoned he hadn’t for most of the day, only fuelled by coffee and the few swigs of apple juice he’d had, plus a handful of almonds.  

“Might as well eat while you still feel like doing that.” Loss of appetite had been noted as one of the possible side effects, and if not that, then he knew the most common, the nausea and vomiting would likely mean that sustenance would fall to the bottom of his priorities list. Well, at least it wouldn’t hit him at once. Doctor Ruiz had advised it would likely begin to affect him after the second or third week.  

When the morning came, he was remarkably calm, leaving Sally sleeping on his bed and heading outside the yard to meet Bella, who was a few minutes early. Getting the first treatment over and done with was the easy part, he found, the nurses all lovely, the radiographer absolutely hilarious, setting him at ease with his infectious laugh and similar humour.  

“So, you got your music for me?” he asked, EZ pulling his cell out. He was told that he could make a playlist that the radiography team could play while he was undergoing treatment, Doctor DiMarco taking his phone from him and snort laughing at the name of the folder.  

“Chernobyl tunes,” he hissed. “Oh my lord, you’re a funny one, Ezekiel. Okay, you just lie there and get comfortable, a nurse will be in shortly with the mask you’ll have to wear for the duration of the treatment to keep your head nice and still, and off we go, my friend.”

Lying back on the table, EZ felt quite composed, giving the nurse a big smile when she came in, fitting him with the netted looking mask, EZ still being able to see through the thousands of tiny holes within it, being told that the treatment would begin momentarily before she left the room. Hearing the opening bars of the song Protection by Massive Attack filtering through the speakers, EZ closed his eyes as the machine above him began to hum.  

He’d chosen that song because prior to his relationship with Camille, he’d never heard of the band, but spent many evenings lying in her bed listening to them as they talked, EZ now wishing with everything he had that those moments had been more genuine from his perspective. She truly was wonderful.  

A few more minutes passed as he continued to think of her, a realisation hitting him; those moments, even steeped in the fact they’d come from a dark place, they must have been more genuine, for him to be sitting there drawing comfort from them now, remembering lying with his head in her lap as she’d stroked his hair, laughing at something he’d said, listening intently to him, being her wonderful, beautiful self.  

Maybe it was why it hurt so damned much now he had chosen to be without her, because while his intent hadn’t always been genuine, his love for her very much had been.  

Now he could separate between his true self and the changes that were because of his dark passenger, it made it worse in a way for him, to know just what it had demanded of him. If he could press a knife into his own head and cut the damned thing out himself, he would. He’d bleed rivers of blood for it to be gone, for it never have hampered him in the first place, to have never hurt Camille as badly as he had. It was a regret he knew he’d live with for a long time, or at least until he got over her, what he’d done to her, too. He was still emphatic about them not getting back together.  

The first two weeks of his treatment went by smoothly, everything fine until he hit the tail end of the third, the fatigue suddenly smacking into him like an out-of-control truck.

“EZ?” A hand gently shook his shoulder, waking him with a start. Turning, he saw Bishop, casting his eyes upwards as they sat together in the clubhouse. “Go to bed, hermano. You need rest.”  

He nodded, getting up and stretching, Biship giving his arm a supportive squeeze. “We got everything handled, don’t worry.” They’d been having an informal chat about how things currently lay with their endeavours, EZ trying hard to remain awake, and failing miserably. He trudged upstairs, stripping down to his boxers and flopping onto the bed, asleep within moments. He managed three hours, until the churning in his stomach awoke him, running to the bathroom to expel the contents into the toilet bowl.  

It was like that for the rest of the night, turning him into a zombie with a raging headache by morning.  

“It isn’t like it could hit me in waves, oh, fuck no. It had to all come at once, like bam, let’s fuck him up,” he complained mildly with laughter as he sat with Nestor the next morning, just him and a few of the girls who worked the bar there, the latter taking in the alcohol delivery, while he and the former drank coffee at a table.  

Nestor raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. “I’m surprised you’re even out of bed, jeffe. I’d be burrowed in my pit if I were going through all of this.”  

He shrugged lightly, scratching his jaw. “Eh, I might go back up in a minute. I... I...” Suddenly, he felt strange, like something was slipping from him, his vision blurring, the last thing he was aware of being Nestor racing out of his seat, catching him as he toppled from his chair. Dark... strange sounds, Nestor’s voice... the taste of blood...  

“Hey, you back with me?” He attempted to focus, Nestor gently pulling his hand from beneath his head. “Seizure.”  

He’d been told he might suffer those more too, the pressure from the swelling upon his brain upping the risk, especially since he’d begun having them as a result of the tumour prior to the treatment beginning. He guessed he needed to let his doctor know, so they could up the medication he was on to prevent them. His oncologist had warned that they might need to re-examine the dosage, should the seizures begin again during the radiotherapy course.  

“Yeah, yeah I am,” he confirmed, rubbing his eyes, still feeling a little dazed, the side of his tongue sore, realising he’d bitten it in the throes of the convulsions. “Thanks for catching me.”

Nestor helped him to his feet, bracing a hand between his shoulders. “No problem.” He went back up to bed shortly after, managing to get a little more sleep, until the nausea awoke him. It was like that for another week, EZ worsening the further he went into his therapy, his anti-nausea meds only actually working if he could keep them down long enough for them to get into his system. More often than not, he couldn’t.  

Week four was agony, his headaches chronic, his mood low and irritable, being left alone for the most part, only his brother coming to regularly check on him, sleeping on the sofa some nights when he was really bad, just so he had someone there with him. Along with not being able to keep the anti-nausea drugs down, the same went for the whole other barrage of pills he had to swallow, including the drugs which assisted with controlling his seizures, Angel terrified he might collapse and hurt himself, swallow his tongue, anything.  

Eventually, he managed to map his sickness, knowing that early morning was a good time to be able to keep something in, so taking the pills he could on an empty stomach. The doses he took later in the day after food, though, when his nausea was rampant, usually didn’t last long enough to take effect. He was tired, he was sick to his stomach, his head continuously pounded in pain, he ran on little sleep, and everything was just too much.  

“Hey, oh, love. You look so poorly,” Bella cooed softly, stroking his shaven head as she sat down on his bed, EZ curled into a ball, feeling like death. Once the radiation had affected his hair, meaning it had begun to fall out in patches, he’d decided to do away with it completely, shaving his head clean, his facial hair remaining intact save for a little patch beneath his chin. “Is there anything I can do for you, anything you need?” she asked. He looked delirious with exhaustion and pain, yet the word EZ croaked as he lay there was clear as a bell.  

“Camille.”  

He managed to fall asleep with Bella lovingly stroking his head, but when he woke up, it was the hand of another who offered such affection, turning onto his back and opening his eyes to see her there, returned to his side.  

“Hey sleepy,” she whispered, EZ feeling tears pool in his eyes, tears of fatigue, of gratitude, of love, of remorse.  

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, Camille stroking his head, shushing him softly.  

“So am I.” Leaning to him, she kissed his cheek, her scent so comforting, the zesty notes of her perfume mixed with gardenia filling his nose. “I’m sorry you didn’t ask for me sooner, so I could have been here for you. At least I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He nodded weakly, turning to push himself into her arms. “Thank god.”  

There was much, much more he needed to say to her, but at that moment, all he needed, all they both needed, was the comfort of being reunited. Anything else could wait.  

[ahiddenpath]

Life Chatter

Talkin' about life beneath the cut.

It feels like there's a lot going on? I'm not sure where to start.

Heath

My husband had a minor health scare, and when we called our primary... Ah, turns out they were bought sometime since we last went, and we are no longer patients. But don't worry, we can see you in late April for your chest pains!

He went to an urgent care place, where they found that he has high blood pressure. They put him on a month of medication until he can see his new primary. We have a million doctor's appointment in March, both of us to start a new primary relationship somewhere else (it's rated a lot better than the old place anyway, to be honest), and some additional specialized appointments for my husband. About a week later, he is already in the high end of a healthy blood pressure, so please don't worry.

To be frank, we haven't properly cared for our health since before the pandemic. I mentioned to my husband, "I got blood work like... Before the pandemic? Three years ago?" And he was gently like, "Love, that was five years ago."

I always thought I understood what we lost to the pandemic, more or less. But the way time has smeared, five years becoming three in my head, all that lost medical care because I thought going to where sick people congregated was worse than not going, and then losing the habit of seeking annual care...

It's definitely past time to reclaim those habits. Routine preventative care, diet, and exercise. Honestly, we're not guaranteed timely medical care at all in the USA (we'll see you in two months for your chest pain), let alone affordable care. The onus is on me to have healthy habits and lose the weight I gained since the pandemic.

So, that's what I've been doing for the last week and a half. Eating healthier food and exercising. I want to say that I'm energized and feeling great, but uhhh.

I'm fucking exhausted. I have been passing out on my sofa at 9 PM.

Work

We moved our lab at work. It's wonderful, because I was a lab hobo for a year who um. When we hired more people than we had benches, we changed to, "No one has their own bench, it's hot seating." Except everyone who worked there before me had their stuff set up; that was their bench, and if I was working there when they entered, they looked at me like, "Wtf are you doing." It was extremely othering, having to apologize for doing your work in someone else's spot, knowing you could be asked to move any time.

I have my own bench, at least for now. The issue is that our lab is on the fifth floor on the opposite end of our huge ass, rectangular building. Our office sitting area is on floor two on the other end of the rectangle. I've been clocking 8,000 to 10,500 steps per day, and up to 78 minutes of elevated heart activity (ie, exercise minutes), just from... Existing at work. It was probably a bad time to combine this with exercise and calorie reduction, lmao! I didn't realize how much more exercise I would get at work.

On one hand, I get paid to be healthier at work. Cool. On the other, I do wonder- How would I get through my day if I were pregnant or injured? Those days when you feel a little off, but not actually ill, are going to be a lot harder now.

In happy news, I got my rewards letter for 2023, and um. My bonus? It's literally 8x my annual bonus at my last company. I would have had to work for 8 years and be awarded 8 times to get this money that I am receiving after 1 year here (well- I guess it's always 1.25 years, since you receive benefits at the end of Q1 the following year, but for some reason, every company I've worked at has done the same).

So like... Work hard, be paid hard is certainly better than work hard, be paid poorly/okay-ly. I do see that. But I am kind of laughing at how it comes at a time when work suddenly has a forced exercise element, lol! And a colleague the other day turned to me and said, "You know, fifteen years ago, I never would have dreamed of companies hiring beyond their space. Like, people not having a desk or a bench, or your sitting area being so far from your work area. What are we doing? What are we accepting, as workers?"

And I was like, "YEAH FUNNY STUFF, HUH."

Creating

I read a book for the first time in ages. I currently have four more book requests in at my local library. I've been trying to get back into reading, which was so vital for me all my life.

To be honest, as more pressures rise against fandom creators as people and AI steal their work and profit from it, I feel less inclined to share my work online. I have still been working on it, so if my mood shifts, the content will be there. But I'd say the pace of my work has decreased a lot.

The last thing I ever want to do is guilt anyone. But the risks of sharing our work online are greater than they've ever been, and the response to it from readers/viewers is lower than it's ever been, at least in my experience. I would really suggest that readers/viewers be as encouraging as possible if the content they are receiving is meaningful to them. I feel like so many of us are one more blow away from reducing/abandoning our online presence.

Mental Health

So I've been struggling lately with thinking- is this it? Is this my life? Work and be tired all the time? And I have the benefit of working and being tired all the time, but not having financial stress. It must be infinitely worse if you aren't making enough money on top of all that, which is true for a lot of Americans. Although if I were to have a kid, that financial stress would be born with the child...

Taking better care of myself does make me feel more like... Hm, a little more hopeful? Like I am planning for a tomorrow instead of watching the years ooze on? But it's also difficult and tiring, and energy was already low.

I am trying to plan some fun upcoming stuff with my husband. Little day outings and weekend getaway type things. The issue I think is that... Doing stuff truly seems worse since the pandemic? Paying so much more for so much less, going there and everything being so crowded that you can't get service or see anything, etc. I need to figure out ways to receive positive stimulation and have fun, without setting off my sensory issues or hemorrhaging money. Again, though, putting time and energy into that is not easy.

That's where I am now! I hope you're all hanging in there and maybe feeling a bit better as winter wanes and spring approaches. I love you and I'm hoping for the best for you <3

[fuck-customers]

That ask someone sent in about their coworker not getting the grade they felt they deserved and how management doesn’t actually reward hard work is so true, I just wanted to put my two cents in from my own job. I started my job a year and a bit ago as a casual, I used to say yes to every shift I was asked to pickup (mostly because I like money), showed up early working unpaid to get things ready and finish late on my closes -again unpaid- to make sure everything was in order for the open person (Tho I still work hard and stay back on closes because I really like the employee who does the open after me and want her to have an easy start, not for my employers benefit). All this is to say while I wasn’t the best employee, I was certainly pretty dang good in comparison to the casual staff we have now.

And in return for this, I got nothing. I got time off denied constantly after moving to part time despite not having a single sick day prior since being hired, we got belittling comments made about our section from upper management when we begged them to give us more staff because 1 person can’t handle everything on their own during rushes, pay cuts wherever management could justify them to save their own money, I got told I wasn’t a good employee because I didn’t want to miss a doctors appointment to work an extra 4 hours on an already 7 hour shift and the list goes on.

Moral of the story, your bosses are NOT your friends. The company does NOT care about you. You are a number to them, another cog in a dissatisfied machine. Do not go above and beyond your work description trying to please people that couldn’t give a rats ass if you died on the job. Your job is a means to get paid and that’s it. If they don’t acknowledge your extra effort, then stop putting it in. Do just above the bare minimum, get your pay check and get out of there.

-A very jaded customer service rep

[galactic-pirates]

The NaNo Report: Day Eight

So today worked out better than I feared as I did actually write a little. It could so easily have been a zero day so I am proud of myself that I did something. Tomorrow will also be difficult as I have an eye test in the morning, and a doctors appointment in the afternoon, so it will be a struggle to write again.

However, I want to hit 30k on or before the 17th (technically NaNo par puts 30k on the 18th) because the 30k reward I have selected is a video game which is on sale for 80% off and the sale ends then. If I miss it then it’s gone until the next time it’s on sale which is who knows when.

Now I was hoping this would light a bit of a fire but I am concerned as I am coming to the end of Episode 1 of the serial, and I have next to nothing planned past this. A few scribbled notes and that’s it. As I ground to a halt today as I had to describe a magical artifact and I couldn’t decide what it looked like… well it’s a problem. So I’m not sure how this is going to go :/ hopefully my subconscious is working for me and I will have an answer. I am not betting on it but hey let’s be optimistic!

Anyway I am ending the day having slipped behind par again. I could really do with another catch-up/get ahead this weekend.

Words today: 581

Current total: 12,602

[littlehen]

Medical complaining

My boss just sent me home from work because I’m poorly. I’ve been poorly since 30 November and I had two weeks off in December (in bed over Christmas) but I came back to work and predictably I’ve got worse again. At least I’m not uncontrollably coughing any more, that was actual hell, but now my tonsils and neck glands are swollen up and every time I swallow, it hurts. I just want someone to jab a steroid in my throat to make it calm down, but you can’t see a doctor in person these days.

At my GP surgery, you can sometimes get a phone appointment on the day if you call them up at 8am. There’s no phone queue, no call-back service. You either get through or don’t. At 8am you start phoning and just re-dial, re-dial, re-dial until at 8.50 you finally speak to a receptionist and get told they have no appointments left and ‘you should have called at 8am. You could always try the Walk-In Centre at the hospital’ (where there’s a seven hour wait, plenty of time to sit around and catch covid). For my appointment before Christmas, I had to call 78 times before I managed to get a phone appointment and then the doctor put me on the shortest possible run of antibiotics and that was it, good luck. Impossible to get a follow-up appointment.

This morning I tried and got through about 8.15. All the appointments were gone for today. ‘We had a big queue of people at the surgery this morning and they took all the appointments.’ I said, but your outgoing message says ‘do not come to the surgery unless you have a scheduled appointment.’ I was phoning because I thought I wasn’t supposed to just turn up. She says, ‘yes, but people do, there’s nothing we can do about it.’ I was like, yes there is, you can not give them appointments. That’s rewarding people for doing the wrong thing. (And presumably people who are well enough to stand and queue are less desperate than me phoning from my bed?) She just told me to try the hospital Walk-In Centre. (My GP surgery has the best reviews in my local area, I shudder to think what service is like at the other ones.)

So, feeling devastated, I went in to work, because if I’m at home I’m just sitting around focusing on my throat pain, and at least at work I get distracted. But I was really tired. I told my boss my problem and she sympathised, then said ‘oh! We have employee insurance, so you can use that to access a private GP!’ She looked up the phone number and gave it to me and told me to go home. Like: great, but also she knows I’ve been struggling since November and she’s just telling me this now?

And one of my colleagues is off sick because she has covid, I can’t catch covid on top of all this, I really can’t, I won’t survive it

I called the private healthcare provider. The private GP does 24/7 appointments so I can speak to a doctor tonight at midnight. At the NHS doctor I would have to describe my symptoms over the phone, but the private GP has asked me to send photos. There’s posh. I mean in an ideal magical fantasyland, I could get a real live human doctor to examine me, in person, but the only way to get that is the bloody Walk-In Centre and I’m too exhausted to go traipsing down to the hospital. Everything you see on the news about hospitals right now is apocalyptic.

Suppose I’d better go now and point my phone at my tonsils and take some of the ugliest photos my camera has ever seen. Fingers crossed I get some medicine as a result. I’m so done with all this.

[threadsun]

Hmmm…Alright I GUESS that’s true. If I’m not put back in my place and if I try to act defiant ALL the time, then I’ll just wind up being even more needy and desperate for any kind of physical touch~ I can see that being more torturous than anything (but I’m doing it to myself so if that’s saying anything lol)

I never doubted your ability to tell, I’ve moved past that phase when you showed me how little I knew, but like, how SPECIFIC it was got me like 😳Dude, tbh, I’d become loopy if you showed me attention and reward me one moment, but ignore me the next. Listen, you caught me in a weird place right now where I’m a little more…lenient to follow along with things so like, when I woke up this morning feeling all nice and clear headed, the moment I start reading this, it was like BAM! Words are hard again! Like, how does that work?! I ain’t trying to say you have an effect on me, but like what the heck?! And apparently I turn into a valley girl or something with how much I keep repeating like when thinking is hard 😂 I freaking almost SCREAMED! I live with other people who work from home so I’m sure they wouldn’t have appreciated it if I did lol. I like the thought of getting used by others, but only when I get the okay from who actually owns me, ya know? But holy hell, I like that reward…ALOT 🥴

OOOO I didn’t even consider getting rewarded for following orders when it came 24/7! Definitely adds lots more incentive to do them! I’m sure if you’d try to talk to Jack about it, you’d realize he’s ALREADY been doing it under the guise of being helpful. We see you Jack 👁️👁️

I feel like being the firehouse dog was basically manifested at that point with how much you were wanting there to BE a firehouse dog. What better way than to do it yourself~ Do you think they’ll make it an official position within the firehouse so you could get benefits like health insurance and a 401k while getting screwed all the time? Imagine them trying to get you to quit your job at Popov’s just so they can have you all to themselves. “There’s no need for you to work there when we’ll take care of everything for you over here! All you have to do is be a GOOD puppy~” I feel like that’s if they leaning over towards more yandere territory for all of them, but still! I’m trying to think about what duties each of the guys have when it comes to taking care of you. Of course Jack is your obedience trainer and Joesph is technically your owner since he brought you there in the first place, but what about the rest of them? It’s ironic though because you’d think Nick would be the obedience trainer, but I can see him taking you to doctors appointments if they wind up being a little too rough or just checking in to make sure you’re still okay going through with all of this. Mental, emotional, physical, and sexual health are all things he’d wish someone would check him with, so he does it for you instead (plus he can’t help it since it’s something he does being a professional dom) But maybe Ian would be the one buying you all the toys or outfits he’d want to dress you up in (and some of the other guys would love to see ruined on you). I can see him spoiling you extra when the other guys aren’t looking or sneaking you in that treat you wanted when you’ve been bad cause “have you seen their puppy dog eyes?! They were basically BEGGING for it! I can’t say no!” Rory probably make homemade treats shaped like bones or something so he could give a small baggie of them to each of the guys. He’d make sure you’re plenty hydrated and well-fed all the time! Shaun would be a little more conflicted and may suggest that you might like wearing cat ears more than those dog ones. Definitely giving “treat dog like cat” energy. Honestly I have no idea the timeline or how it’d work because this whole au is based off horniness, but I didn’t want to leave people hanging!

I wish I could give you a hug! I can’t imagine how scary it must’ve been when you had to do survival sex work instead of what you’re able to do now. Being in the place of needing to do something just to make sure bills can be paid and food can be purchased can be terrifying and scarring. Choosing to buy food or medicine is never a place I’d hope anyone would have to experience. I’m sorry 🩵

LUCKY!!! I’ve always wanted to go up to Boston because of the amount of lobster you can get for cheap AND all the cool historical aspects in the city, but they have a whole bunch of Victorian houses too??? Dude, you’re just making me want to go up there more! Lol. Did you get to go to Salem before too since they’re so close to each other? It’s definitely a bucket list item for me to experience it, but I know the energy can be a whammy like Gettysburg or Savannah is. Lots of distraught residual energy from the past mixed with excited feelings from tourists creates very confusing energies. Stained glass windows are absolutely gorgeous! I wish more modern houses held as much character and personality as homes from the 1920’s and back had. I love some 1950’s style appliances, but it’s around that time that houses started to become more generic in style. Definitely more concerning because of the amount of aggressive behaviors towards people by Gresham’s Castle, but it’s luckily it’s not a standard when it comes to haunted places. Most of the time it’s just residual energy or grumpy ghosts that cause more negative feelings, but if you ground, shield, and set your intentions, you’ll be okay if you go to places that are haunted with not as pleasant energy (battlefields, hospitals, that sort of thing). However, this shouldn’t mean you should actively LOOK for places that are known to house darker energies that can be harmful or even deadly. Usually places like those are ones that even the most talented of mediums won’t go to unless absolutely necessary. Those are considered light worker cases instead of Casper cases and no one purposely chooses to be a light worker. They’re the ones who deal with demons and dangerous entities. When I first started learning about what I was capable of doing years ago, I definitely dabbled a lot more out of curiosity and excitement (self worth and validation from helping people with my gifts). Because I did this though, I went through one of the most terrifying experiences in my life and had to stop for an entire year under the people who were teaching me instructions. So definitely be careful if you go to more dangerous! I have all of my own headcanons based off the information I’ve learned throughout the years with the metaphysical when it comes to Jack and some of the warnings of the game, but since it’s based off fiction, I have no idea how much is drawn from imagination and how much is drawn from fact. (*coughJackshowsmoresignsofbeingdemonicthanaghost,especiallywiththerulethingCOUGH*)

Exactly!!! At this point, we can definitely say we see eye to eye when it comes to this topic, but let’s just hope that the smaller portion of the fandom can see where we’re coming from and why the way they’re acting is hurting the community as a whole.

Oh jeez! \(//∇//)\ My mind doesn’t have to be the only thing that’s open though~

-🎃

Don't worry, I like to have some fun with my prey subs before I eat them take what I want. So I'd let you be all bratty and give you the satisfaction of frustrating me until I snap~ You're just too cute! And very fun to toy with. I definitely like to share my subs sometimes, especially to show off how well I've trained them! Though, I'll confess I can get a bit jealous. So I'd have to remind you who you belong to afterwards.

Oh absolutely, he's been like... subtly domming the player the Whole Time tbh. Nonsexually, until he gets explicit consent, but still. He uses rewards to make you care for yourself, and scolds and lectures you about it when you try to ignore his commands.

Ooooh yes, I love that!!!! They all have different roles and treat you in different ways. Ian absolutely spoils you rotten, he just can't help himself. And he loves dressing you up and getting new toys and everything!! He's the one who makes your cage all nice and aesthetic too. Nick definitely makes sure all the consent and negotiation stuff are going well, but I think he also teaches the others how to safely engage in harder kinks by using you as a demonstration. He'll pull you out of your cage and sit you in his lap and show everyone the correct way to choke you or all the places that can safely be spanked... Rory loves to feed and spoil you with treats!! Lots of baked goods and also sharing his lunch with you if you do tricks for him. Jean is definitely the one who gets you the actual job, like convincing/bribing anyone necessary to get you a salary and insurance and everything. He also keeps the public from finding out about you so that there's no public outrage, because that would make it a lot harder to keep you! Shaun definitely would prefer a cat, but he'll settle for teaching you "tricks" like meowing for him. And giving you a nice bowl of "cream" as a treat~

Thank you 💙 luckily, that time in my life is long past. But it definitely gave me a more nuanced perspective of sex work than a lot of people have. I like to look at it as an ultimately positive experience because it allows me to better understand the needs of my fellow sex workers, whether they need to do it for survival or want to do it for the joy of the work!

Boston is absolutely lovely! I haven't actually gotten around to going to Salem because I only take day trips up there to see my brother, and it's about a 3 hour drive each way. But maybe next time I'll convince him to bring Moon and I there to look around! I'd definitely be interested in seeing the place. Oh yeah, I try to stay away from genuinely dangerous places. I never actively seek out that kinda thing, I'm just bad at ignoring it when I stumble upon it by accident. But I'm not very sensitive to those sorts of things 99% of the time. I'm a mekubal, so I deal pretty much exclusively with Jewish spirits/demons/entities. And because our classifications for things aren't based on whether they're malicious or benevolent, sometimes it's safer for us to work with demons than angels, for example. But I'm not very sensitive to entities that aren't Jewish, I suppose because that's where all of my studies have been. Speaking of, I've always seen Jack as a dybbuk who is lying about the rules thing, but I would love to hear your theory about what he is!!

Oh don't worry, once I'm done opening your mind and making you wonderfully mindless and compliant, I'll make sure to open the rest of you too~ Can't skip over a single thing when I'm claiming you, after all.

[ahappybeginning]

Happy post! 😁

Ok, so despite the one really big bump that happened, there have been a lot of really positive things happening recently, too.

Firstly, I’m officially done with all the pre-op requirements! No more blood work, no more scans, no more check-ins with various doctors (at least until AFTER surgery). And I not only met the weight loss requirement my surgeon wanted before surgery, but I actually exceeded that by 20 lbs, for a total of 70 lbs lost since the first week of May. I’ve been called a super star by my surgeon, my nutritionist, and even the sleep specialist I’ve been seeing for my sleep apnea. I’ve somehow managed to exceed everyone’s expectations, including my own, and it feels incredible. I’m going into this surgery knowing that I’ve done everything possible to succeed and keep myself committed to this new lifestyle, and I’m finding ways to make accommodations for the things I know will be the hardest for me.

And along with the sleep apnea thing, I’ve had and been using my CPAP machine for a little over 2 weeks now, and it’s actually not as bad as I was expecting. I sleep pretty well with it, and really my biggest issue is making sure I actually get into bed and put it on before I fall asleep 😅. But I had an appointment this past week, and the lady I’ve been working with said that everything looked fantastic on paper, the machine is working exactly as it should, and I’ve gone from 85 apnea events per hour (from my first sleep study in May), to now 0.6 an hour with the CPAP. So like…that’s CRAZY good. I honestly wish I hadn’t been so apprehensive about it for so long before all this because I can definitely tell that I’m feeling a lot better physically, I’m not constantly falling asleep during the day and I just have a lot more energy overall. So while I do hope the weight loss will help reverse the apnea naturally, in the meantime I’m glad I do have the machine now to help correct it and let me get more quality sleep.

And in other Non-Scale Victories (NSV for short), I’m down 2 clothing sizes and have been pulling out some of the old stuff I used to love but had gotten too big for in the last couple years. I did get rid of a lot of it when we moved last year, but I saved a few things that I couldn’t bear to part with, so being able to fit back into them now is really exciting. And I’ve bought myself a couple new things in the smaller size as a little reward for all my hard work. 🥰 And yesterday, for the first time in well over a year (probably more like 2-3 years), I walked over 10,000 steps (it was actually 11), and I don’t even feel the least bit sore today. For reference, when I started properly adding in more physical activity for my pre-op preparation in early July, my average was around 2-3k steps a day, topping out at around 5k a couple times a week. And before that I would sometimes do less than 1k. So I’ve been slowly trying to work on building up my muscles and stamina, and it’s been really paying off. I can walk for a lot longer now without my back or legs hurting, and I’m starting to get back to the point where I enjoy it again. The main issue I have right now is the extreme heat outside, so I’ve been primarily pacing around my room for 5-15 minutes at a time several times a day. But it’s working, so I’m really happy.

And one other thing that isn’t solely related to my bariatric journey but definitely has an effect on it, is that my sister and I have been making really great progress in our relationship recently. For anyone who’s been following me for a long time, you’ve probably seen me kind of vaguely mention that my sister and I have had a very tumultuous and toxic relationship for most of my life, and for pretty much the last decade, I’ve only spent time with her when absolutely necessary. But in the last year or so, she’s been slowly trying to bridge the gap between us. And though I was resistant at first (with very good reason), I did eventually acknowledge that she was making a real effort to change and make up for all the years of manipulation and abuse (mostly verbal/emotional). So I’ve been more open and accepting of her attempts to spend more time together, and we’ve actually managed to have several really brutally honest conversations about our childhood and our own individual pain, and we’ve been able to genuinely apologize and begin to heal the deep wounds we both have. So during this whole process of getting ready for this surgery, she’s been very supportive and has made real efforts to do whatever she can to help make things as easy for me as possible. And tbh, I’ve been struggling a lot with my mom in that area because she just doesn’t seem to understand what my true needs are no matter how much I try to communicate them more effectively. So having the support from my sister has been a huge comfort, and it’s something I never would have thought we could ever get to. We were SO broken for so long, and of course there’s still stuff we’re working through and probably will be for a long time. But I’m just amazed at the progress we’ve both made so far and I’m grateful that I do have that familial support that I really need right now, even if it’s not from the family member I was expecting.

So I’m hoping to have more positive things to post about in the next couple weeks leading up to my surgery. I’m doing my best to focus on the ultimate goal and remind myself of all the things I have to be grateful for and proud of. Fingers crossed that it’s smooth sailing from here on out. 🤞💖

[gilfrespecter]

I'm chatty this morning sorry(I'm not it's my blog I'll do what I want)

Some things that I'm thinking about is one day I really want to switch to just having a landline and a desktop. Probably a flipphone too(do they make ones with good cameras?). I love having my Friends in my pocket but alas there is also The Apps there and I'm the kind of insane guy who prefers phone calls to texting especially for information that doesnt need to be written down to be remembered.

2 my favorite flavor of monster(papillon the real sugar peach one) has disappeared replaced by the australian lemonade which is Nasty. I do like the pineapple reserve and the sailor jerry can one but peach is one of my favorite flavors and artificial sugars make me sick. I was looking about maybe ordering some with my tax return but it's like. 40$ for a 24 pack when all the gas stations around here always have a "buy multiple for cheaper" sale going on. I've asked they won't let me just buy a pack. Wait I actually just did the math the 3 for $5 deal is the same price as the 24 pack($1.67). Much to think about. I'd probably be better off just starting to take a multivitamin LOL

3 oh my god I want to kayak so fucking bad. Mine is absolutely NOT safe to take out in the winter and I don't mind being cold I don't mind being wet but I do not like being cold and wet and to launch mine bc it's so long I have to go like at least ankle depth into the water to launch it and that's not even beginning to talk about getting a 16 foot ocean kayak up on top of my fucking chevy spark on the icy driveway(it DOES look very silly it's mostly safe. I dont take it on the highway). Or out of the basement even LOL. I also absolutely need to get my fishing license this year what with the price of meats. With my rudder working now I can go Faster and Further which I'm excited about and I think that's what my brain's like "kayak time now" about. I need to take a rescue course TBH they're really cheap by the local paddle renting company in a nice warm inside pool but also that involves being Maskless which I don't do(waterboarding is not an option) and I'm still not allowed to be Submerged. It's absolutely something I can teach myself on a calm day at like one of the state parks I just need to work on powering through cold shock again which I used to be really good at and am probably Even Less Good At Now bc a ton of fat has been Removed from my chest. But also I run even warmer now(who knew that was possible LOL) so it might be less of a problem than I'm thinking it will be

Speaking of post top surgery changes WOW THEY SURE CAN DO my voice has dropped again relatively significantly for me(I still have a pretty high voice but I can hit really low if I try I'd love to do voice training but money) my facial hair is coming in alot more too I use like. Minoxodil once a week at work/if I remember (when I first get in this way I can wash it off to keep the Vivicat safe by the end of the day) but I don't think once a week is enough to really be the Cause. I wonder if getting my Very Expired nexplanon out will change things more(I was on it to stop my period which t seems to be keeping up on just fine I'm just not getting it taken out bc I like using my arms and they wouldn't do that for me during top surgery I asked. I don't really need it either pandemic induced celibacy).

I want to go to one of the drag shows or karaoke nights at the local leather/only gay bar soon. I need to remember to set up an eye doctor appointment on monday. Nushki needs a bath. You scrolled through all this so here's the reward of seeing Nushki being Sillay

[theretirementstory]

Bonjour à tous, it’s 8c and cloudy but I am sure that we will have some sunshine today.

The concert last week was absolutely amazing, and I surprised myself at how much of this music I knew! I think we all hear excerpts of music, on the radio and television without knowing the name or where it’s taken from.

Had an appointment with the dietician and I was going to tell her to “sling her hook” if she was as rude as she had been last week. Well, I either got her sister or she had had her happy pills because she was very polite and even spoke in English at times, smiling as she did. I have an appointment for a months time, I chose a morning appointment (catch her at her best) and I will be weighed then.

I had a little look at the plants in the garden, lots of greenery appearing, even on the clematis which I thought had not taken well. I think I planted it in 2021, and I am hoping to have some flowers on it this year.

I seem to be forgetting a lot at the moment, probably due to the fact that I have so much buzzing around in my head. I almost forgot the appointment with the dentist….. it was to “try the new crown”, well it needs some adjusting so I am back again this coming week. He suggested a day and time, time coincided with my knitting group meeting so I said no can do! You should have seen the look on the dentist and nurse’s faces….. does no-one say “no” to a dentist? Am I supposed to have no life other than doctors and dentist appointments? Well, I may be an “étrangère” but I do have a busy social life here!

The second thing, that I had forgotten, should have had a mention last week. Drumroll please…… “The Paralegal” is no more and with effect from 30 January he is now “The Trainee Solicitor”, all those letters after his name LLB, LLM and now working towards his next goal, becoming a Solicitor.

“The Daddy” who has followed in my footsteps and gone into banking, received a gift from a very happy customer. Spending time, listening and dealing with peoples requests may seem a little frustrating at times, especially if you have other work which should be done, but it can also be just what that customer needs at that time and they may wish to reward the person, as was the case.

Now here is a note to myself: do not leave jobs to do in a rush the following morning! I had to get out of bed very early to catch up on jobs before the cleaner arrived. As a consequence I did too much and felt quite unwell. However, I did go out for my walk in the afternoon and that made me feel so much better. I actually sat outside for about 15 minutes and as the sun was very warm I tilted my face skyward for 10 minutes free vitamin D.

I had a telephone message from one of the new ladies to the knitting group, she wanted to know if I wanted to attend the course to be given by the firefighters on what to do in an emergency. I said yes, before realising that I may not understand fully all that is being said. However, on the intérnet I have found information (in French) about the course so I can study this before I go. Good heavens I am doing such a lot of homework on these subjects 😂.

On thé subject of the knitting group, there were photos in the paper of the AGM and although just half of me appears in one photo it means it is the third time I have been “in the paper”. I also was mentioned in the blurb as the “nouvelle intervenante”. I met the “old one” whilst out walking the other day and she congratulated me on taking on the roll.

I don’t buy a paper midweek so my walks often involve visiting the bar to catch up on news. Believe me, I know a lot of what is going on in this town, although I do sometimes miss out on things. Well I can’t be everywhere can I? I do have doctor and dentist appointments to deal with 😂😂.

Today, I have the video call with my friends in Bristol. It will be good to hear all of their news, however, I have just had a really long video call with my sister in the UK and that has blown todays schedule right out of the water.

I decided to look for a poem about winter sun and this appeared, not sure who the poet is but it seems to say exactly what I wanted to say. Here is the excerpt.

Winter’s Sun by Asmat Naushad

“There is something about the winter’s sun.

the florescence of the beaming rays

the calmness of the flowing sunshine:

convinces us about the warmth of the winter’s sun”

I am also planning a “little something” to take place (hopefully) week commencing 20 February, more on that next week.

See you next time. Bon dimanche!

[riverstardis]

in the name of love:

connie enjoying her name being on the office door

lmao zoe telling max to leave some space between their arrivals

“she who is now me”

connie having meetings with everyone now that she’s clinical lead

ethan being in the middle of treating a patient when he’s meant to have his meeting so connie goes with him to watch

“right, you were with that patient for over 18 minutes, what’s your diagnosis?” and then he takes ages saying what his diagnosis actually is sjskfkf

“dr hardy you have the most breaches of the 4 hour target of any doctor in the hospital” “right. i’m guessing that’s not good?” “no, not in the ed. if you want to run thousands of tests become a rheumatologist not an ed physician” “i’m hoping that’s sarcasm and not a recommendation?” “correct. you’re gonna burn yourself out not to mention my budget.”

then he exhales after connie walks off and lofty pats him on the back sjskdkfjdjd

jeff saying his wife’s away in peru and “it’s complicated” so you’re not gonna tell her exactly how it’s complicated because it sounds like you’re tryna cheat😭😭

LMAO lofty going “what’s up, sherlock?” to ethan

he’s got a patient with a chest infection and he thinks it’s probably just a normal one but he wants to know which pathogen caused it but then connie walks past and he’s like “though, that’s not something we will necessarily work out now in the ed”

lofty going “you’re going to look up chest microbiology in your break aren’t you?” and ethan goes “probably” SJDKFKFK nerd (affectionate)

lofty robyn and max selling sweets and chocolates

“ah lofty, i’ve been hearing tales of illicit confectionary”

lmaoo ash finding robyn and lofty selling out of a store cupboard

oop cal’s turn and connie is not happy “dr knight.” “hey” “hey?” “sorry i missed our appointment i got stuck with a patient” “no according to the records you never get stuck, you have the fastest turnover of patients there is” “thank you very much” “no it wasn’t a compliment. my office. your notes are very sketchy. CN2 12 intact? that doesn’t tell me you’ve done a full neuro examination” “yeah but that was just shorthand, i always do every step” “if your patient walks out of here and dies i would not be able to defend you in a coroner’s court, be more thorough dr knight, in you go”

i love how cal has the exact opposite problem to ethan. and i love how different connie’s demeanour is with them skskfkfkf ig bc cal didn’t tell her that he couldn’t make the appointment and then was so cocky and dismissive whereas ethan actually listened to what she told him

patient’s dad asking louise if she knows what these pills are and her saying “sorry i’m not a medic” interesting…

the patient who was flirting with jeff is on some “friends of holby trust” committee with connie and they raised money for an echo machine. connie saying she normally goes private so they have to show her the very best of the nhs

“ten years ago ct scans in the ed were unheard of. if i get my way, you’ll be training in echo, and a lot more besides” and zoe rolling her eyes sjskfkfkfk

connie letting ethan use the new echo as a reward🥺

i love how the patient’s literally awake here like it must be so disconcerting to be aware of a consultant actively training a junior doctor using you, even if it’s just a scan

i hate that i now can’t watch this scene without thinking of that bloody london episode. honestly fuck whoever thought up that kiss😭

connie and zoe walking towards the door as they watch ethan with the echo “he’s in his element” “mhm” “i hired a few good ones in my time” “yeah, you did” i love how he can absolutely still hear them like they didn’t even leave the room just walked like a metre further away from him sjdkdkfkf

robyn and lofty trying to sell lily some chocolate. unsuccessfully of course

aww ethan telling cal “mrs beauchamp let me do an echo on the guy who collapsed in the car park!” and cal replies sarcastically “wow. that is impressive.” and zoe’s sighs like “oh, give your brother his moment of glory for once” and cal really over exaggerates and pats his shoulder and goes “well done”

lmaoo max asking zoe if she and connie have finally called a truce and she’s like “i’m not that petty. anymore”

rita saying she feels like she’s walking on fletch’s grave by applying for his old job skskdkfkfk you can literally see him again in like a few weeks

jeff going to visit the woman who was flirting with him and she’s wearing heels despite having a cast on her leg???? girl…