#this was pretty therapeutic after the morning ive had | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pascalscenarios · 3 years

Text

THE ONE (Frankie Morales x Reader)

THE ONE

Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You wake up at Frankie’s house. You spend the day with him, only for things to be finally revealed.

Warning: Swearing

Words: 4552

Authors Note: Whew... You guys aren’t ready for this one...Ahhh!!! Also I just want to say thank you so much for reading my fic. It means so much to me! Enjoy - k

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5

Chapter 5

The sunlight peeked through the window, shining down on the bed. Your hair was a mess, sprawled out and disheveled as your head rested against pillows. A white comforter covered your body. You slowly open your eyes to an unfamiliar bedroom. You should have felt scared or panicked when waking up in a stranger's bed, but you felt safe.

You could smell him on the sheets, it was Frankie's bed. You were at Frankie's house.

You laid there trying to remember the events from last night. You were partying with your friends in the club and somehow you ended up with Frankie? Your memories were blurred, only remembering bits and pieces.

You sit up in the bed, your head pounding. Looking down you noticed you were wearing an oversized grey shirt and sweatpants. These definitely weren’t the clothes you wore last night.

You look over to the nightstand to find two Advils and a tall glass of water. You pull the covers off from your body, tossing your legs off the side of the bed. You pop the pills in your mouth and chug down the water.

With the glass in your hand, you get up and walk over and open the bedroom door. The door led to a hallway with multiple other doors. Towards the end of the hall was a large opening, you assumed it was the living room because you heard that the tv was on.

Your feet padded against the wooden floors as you made your way to the living room. The local news was playing on the tv.

“Looks like sleeping beauty decided to wake.”

You gasped. Startled, you turn around to find Frankie leaning against the kitchen counter with a coffee mug in his hand.

“H-hi” you stuttered out.

“Good morning.”

Awkwardness and silence filled the air like usual.

You slowly walk into the kitchen, passing him to get to the sink. You set the glass down in the stainless steel tub and turn to face him. He was staring at you while sipping his coffee, waiting for you to say something.

You stared down at your fingers as you fiddled with them. “Frankie..”

You swear he could read your mind because he started explaining everything that happened last night. He knew you were most likely confused as to why you were at his house.

“You called me last night drunk.” He says placing his coffee mug down on the counter. “You were lost and didn’t know where you were. I’m pretty sure you meant to call Alex, but somehow you called me? I came to pick you up, took you to eat at Dolly's. I was going to take you home, but I don’t know where you live and you were sleeping, so I brought you back to my place.” He explains running his hands through his moppy curls.

“I gave you clothes for you to change into, you took a shower, and slept in my bed. I took the couch.” He motions his head in the direction of the living room.

You look over, seeing a pillow and blanket bunched up on the couch.

“You know I would never-”

“I know, Frankie.” You tell him softly. “I trust you. I always have.” Your heart wrenched. The fact he drove all the way into the city in the early hours of the morning and took care of you meant a lot to you. It was proof that despite what happened between you two, he would always be there for you.

“So… “ He says trying to change the subject. “How’d you get my number?”

God this was going to be embarrassing.

Your face started to turn red as you spoke “Santiago gave it to me. I told him once a couple of years ago I wanted to call you. I’ve tried many times to press call under your name, but I always got scared and chickened out.” you confessed.

“Funny, I did the same thing too, asking him for your number, but never calling.” He chuckled, folding his arms against his chest.

“Huh...you know for the past 10 years I thought you’d never think of me again after that night.” You say you continued to fiddle with your fingers.

“I thought about you every day since then, Smiles. You were always on my mind...you still are.”

You glance up at him. Your heart was beating against your chest at his statement.

You both make eye contact. God, those gorgeous brown eyes that always made you melt. You were a sucker for his eyes, they were captivating. You could always read him from the look in his eyes. His eyes were sorrowful, but also longing.

You quickly divert your eyes breaking you from the trance you were in. What are you doing?! You’re going to get married! You can’t be thinking so deeply about someone else, let alone someone being your ex-boyfriend. Snap out of it!

“So why are your plans for the day?” Making conversation and acting like you guys didn’t have a moment just then. You walked past him and went to go sit on his couch.

“Uh, I don’t know.” He says trailing off, following you, plopping himself down on the opposite side of the couch, giving you some space.

“I was gonna drop you off at home whenever you are ready then go fishing out on the lake for a bit” he picks up the remote and starts flipping through the channels. He stops when he notices Star Wars: Episode IV: A New Hope is airing on tv.

You didn’t want to go home just yet. A few weeks ago you were dead set on avoiding Frankie, but something changed. You wanted to be in his company and spend time with him, at least for today.

“Can I go with you?” you asked.

“Go with me?” He sounded confused.

“Yeah...I mean like spend the day with you...go fishing?”

“You’re hungover and want to go fishing...with me…?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Um...yeah?”

“Don’t you wanna go home?”

“I mean if you want me to leave I can-”

“No!” he said a little too quickly. He clears his throat. “No, you can stay as long as you want, it's just” he stops. “Several weeks ago you were pretty clear you wanted nothing to do with me. You said things between us weren’t fine, we weren’t on friendly terms, and for me to stop wedging my way into your life.”

“I mean it’s a little too late for that now, you managed to crack your way in.” You sighed.

“Have I?”

“You were always a constant in my life until you weren't. You were the closest person to me besides Santiago. So naturally for me, as much as I want to push you away, I’m also drawn to you... You’re familiar. Since you came back into my life, you’ve been on my mind a lot lately..” you opened up to him.

“What are you trying to say?”

“I don’t know... That I’ve missed you, despite everything. Think it would be therapeutic for us to talk and hang out for a day.”

Frankie stayed silent.

“Okay,” he nods, giving you a small smile.

…

You were getting ready to leave with Frankie. You didn’t have anything else to wear, so you decided to just continue wearing his shirt and sweats. It was that or the outfit you wore last night. You patiently waited for Frankie in the living room as he gathered things he needed. You walked over to the front door, grabbing your bag that sat on the small. You reached into your bag pulling your phone out.

Your phone had TONS of text messages and missed calls from your friends and Alex. Your finger sliced against your phone screen noting the long list of notification banners. They had no idea what happened to you last night or where you were. They were worried, thinking the worst possible things that could have happened to you.

You opened your phone, pressing the call icon. Looking at your call log, you noticed you did call Frankie last night. Shaking your head, you clicked contacts, and pressed on Alex’s name. You pressed the phone against your ear.

The call picked up

“Alex-”

“THANK GOD! Where are you?! Are you okay?! The girls were looking for you all night, I was so close to calling the cops! I thought something terrible happened to you!” Alex was worried.

“I’m sorry, I got lost, but I’m fine,” you reassured them.

“Let me come get you, where-”

“Actually, I’m not coming home yet…”

“What? Why? What's wrong?” Alex asked, he thought you were being suspicious.

“I just need time alone…” You lied. I mean you did want to be alone... but with Frankie.

“Time alone? What I’m confu-”

“Alex, I promise you fine. I’m safe….I just need to be alone right now. I’ll explain everything later. I love you. I gotta go”

“Wait-”

You quickly hang up the phone and put your phone back in the bag.

You put your phone back in the bag. You didn’t want to tell him what happened over the phone. It was better to tell him everything in person. You’re debating if you wanted to tell him you were hanging out with Frankie. What he doesn’t know wouldn’t kill the right?

You decided to walk around the room, looking at the various knick-knacks and miscellaneous items Frankie had displayed on his shelves. There were photos of Frankie with his friends and family members, people you recognized. A framed photo caught your eyes. It was a child's painting, with various bright colors brushed on the sheet. In the middle was a handprint of a small child, and one of a grown person.

You continue to walk around the room when you accidentally step on something. You lift your foot, noticing a sterling silver ring on the ground. It was a dainty ring of a crescent moon.

Girlfriend, you thought. You remember him talking to someone on the phone the night with Santiago. It had to be a girlfriend. He has a girlfriend and he brought you home while you were drunk? That’s not good. Yet again you are engaged and here you are spending time with your ex-boyfriend.

But nothing was gonna happen with Frankie. You both hand significant others. You guys were friends… Well sorta. You weren’t sure what to call this relationship.

“You ready?”

You look at him. He was wearing his hat, shirt, jeans, boots, and a backpack hanging off one shoulder. He was also wearing a fisher vest, which made you giggle slightly. Frankie was always a nature boy.

“Yeah.”

“What’s that?” He asks nothing you holding the ring in your hand

“Um, a ring. I found it on the carpet.” You say walking over and handing it to him.

He signs. “I swear she leaves everything everywhere...” he mumbles under his breath, but you couldn’t hear what he said because it was so quiet. He sets the ring on the coffee table.

“Alright let's go,” he says.

…

The lake was peaceful. The water slowly moved. Nothing but sounds of nature. It was calming and relaxing. You and Frankie sat in a small boat out in the middle of the lake. Frankie placed a worm to hook his fishing rod. He stood up, casting his line far out, then sat back down.

You sat there with a fishing rod in your hand patiently for something to bite.

“It’s nice today.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“You must love it out here. This is very you.” You chuckle slightly.

“I try to come when I can. They have a camping site, so I’ll come out on a weekend and camp sometimes.”

“Usually I’ll come here to think.”

“Think about what?”

He shrugged, reeling in his line slightly. “It depends. Sometimes I’ll come to think about stuff like what's going on in my life. Sometimes I’ll think about the past.”

Silence fell between the two of you.

“Hey, Frankie…”

“Yeah?”

“The questions I ask you today, can you be open and answer them honestly? I know that might be asking a lot but-”

“Okay…”

“Really?” You were a bit surprised. I mean he had been honest with you, but only really scratching the surface. You wanted to dig deeper.

“Only if you do the same.”

“Deal.” You smile. “ Did ever come out here to think about me?”

“Plenty of times, Smiles.”

“So, when did you get discharged from the military? I remember you telling Alex you fly cargo?”

“I got discharged a little while after I left. I got my pilot's license suspended for a bit. I managed to get it back and started piloting for a cargo company about 5 years ago.” He reeled him his line, then stood out to cast it again.

“Did you ever get that job you wanted, the one at the magazine company?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Good for you. I knew you could do it. I remember you being so nervous when you did your interview.”

You chuckle slightly at the memory. “Yeah, it was such a mess then, but apparently liked me. It’s a great job. It’s funny actually, Alex’s tech company is in the same building. Our mutual friend introduced us to each other. We were friends for a while, then started dating two years ago.”

You were curious about his girlfriend. He never mentioned her. I mean the phone call at Santiagos and the ring at his house, he had to have a girlfriend.

“How about you? How long have you and your girlfriend been together?”

“My what? Girlfriend? I don’t-”

“Woah!” You said as you jolted forward your hands gripping your fishing pole. You quickly stand up as the fish keeps tugging aggressively on the end line.

“Reel it in Smiles!”

You pull up on the rod as you quickly cranked the reel handle.

“Oh my gosh!” You laugh trying your hardest to reel in the fish.

“Come on, keep going you go!” Frankie cheered you on.

You reeled the last of your line. The fish flew out of the water as you helped the fishing rod up high.

“Alright Smiles!” Frankie laughed as he set his fishing rod into a holder, he stood up quickly and grabbed your line, holding the fish up. You had caught a Bass.

“This one's pretty big!” Frankie grabbed the fish from the bottom of its amount as he unhooked the fish from the line.

“You wanna hold it?” he extends the fish towards you.

“No way! I’m not touching that!” you say moving your body away.

“Come on smiles, you gotta hold a fish you caught!” He says bring the Bass closer to you.

“Frankie! No! Stop!” you protested as you turned away.

“Give your hands,” he says holding his hand out.

“Frankie...”

“Come on, it’s just a fish.”

You sigh holding your hands out. Frankie placed the Bass in your hands. You slightly squeeze its body, making sure you have a grip on the fish. The was Bass was cold, the scales poked the palms of your hands slightly, and it felt slimy.

“See, not so bad!”

The fish began to move, wiggling back and forth in your hand. You let out a yelp, letting out a shriek as you quickly give it back to Frankie.

Frankie busts out laughing as he takes it from your hands.

“That’s not funny!” You shove him as you laughed slightly.

“Stop being such a wimp! It’s just a fish!” He chuckles.

“I told you I didn’t want to hold it!”

“How about you give it a kiss then?” He moves it towards you.

“Stop it! Frankie!”

“It wants a kiss, Smiles, do leave it hanging!” as he tries to get the fish as close to your face as possible.

“Give me a smooch!” he animates his voice, pretending the fish is talking to you.

“NO! Frankie Stop!” You shriek. Frankie gets closer to you, shoving the fish in the face. You reacted by pushing him, Frankie lost his balance and ended up falling over the side of the boat into the lake.

You gasp, your hands flying over your mouth. You kneel on the bench, leaning over the side of the boat.

Frankie’s head pops up out of the water, his Standard Oil Heating hat on his head.

“Frankie are you alright?!”

He takes of his hat, tossing it the boat. He shakes his head, getting so water out and hair out of his eyes, then takes his hands slicking his hair back so he could see.

“Yeah I’m fine, I wasn't expecting to go for a swim though” he laughs as he treads water.

“Here let me help you up” you extend out your hand for him to grab. He takes your hand but you immediately regret it after seeing the mischievous look on his face. You let out a yelp as Frankie yanked you in, flipping over the side of the boat into the water.

Your body hit the water, you come up with the bubbles gasping for air. Frankie is laughing as he treads beside you.

“Now we’re even!”

‘You punk! You did that on purpose! Meanwhile, I accidentally shoved you in!” you slick your hair back out of your face. You splash water in his face.

“Two can play at that game!” he splashes you back.

You swim over to him, placing your hands on his shoulder, then pushing down on him, submerging you both underwater.

Underwater, he grabs a hold of your waist pulling your body close to his. Coming back up you're both laughing, his arms wrap around your body, as your arms wrapped around his neck.

Your guys’ laughs subside as you stare at each other. You take your hand moving a piece of Frankie's hair, out of his face and swipe it to the side. Your heart was beating fast, as you both started to lean in for a kiss. Your nose touches, but you learn your head down, pulling always from him. Swimming back to distance yourself from him.

“I-I think you should take me home now…please...” you whispered.

“Okay…” was all he said. You two swam towards the boat. Frankie got back up first, then helped. He turned on the boat and stirred back to the dock.

…

You both were dripping wet, but Frankie managed to pack extra clothes. You changed behind some bushes into a very large and long shirt that went past your knee. Frankie changed into a plain t-shirt and jeans.

After changing in new clothes and packing things up, you guys headed on the road, Frankie driving you home.

It was silent in the car. Neither of you has anything to say. You had an ongoing battle raging inside of you. You couldn’t believe you almost kissed Frankie, but part of you wanted to. You were so confused about how you felt. You needed to go home and truly be alone to think things over.

“I’m sorry-” You both say at the same time.

You both sign.

“I shouldn’t have leaned in like that-”

“It wasn’t just you Frankie...It was me as well. I should have known better.”

“-Nothing happened.”

“But something almost did, Frankie.”

“So what is this? What are we?”

“We’re not anything Frankie”

“Bullshit and you know that! We may not be together anymore, but we’ve got history. We’re connected. Stop denying how you feel” he snaps at you.

“I don't feel anything, Frankie! You don’t know how I’m feeling! I’m getting MARRIED! MARRIED!” you reminded him.

You huffed, your arms crossed against your chest. You wanted to open but the car door and roll out. You both sat in silence for a good 20 minutes, only speaking when you were giving him directions to how to get to your house you were almost home. You both had cooled off from the argument, but the tension was still high in the air.

As you sat in the passage side of the truck, you noticed something. “Who’s this?” You asked, staring at a polaroid picture that was tapped on his dashboard. You only noticed the photo until now.

Frankie closed his eyes for a split second and deeply sighed. He thought about what you said earlier ‘The questions I ask you today, can you be open and answer them honestly’. He made a deal with you, he had to keep his word. He had to come clean and make things right with you.

You peel the photo off the dash to examine it better. The photo was of a young teenage girl laughing as she smiled. She was outdoors sitting on a log in front of a campfire. Her hands wrapped around a stick with a marshmallow at the end. Behind her, there was a tent pitched up, woods, a lake, and an orange sunset sky that made up the rest of the backdrop.

“That’s my daughter.”

You stopped fidgeting with the photo. You quickly turn your gaze towards him. He didn’t look at you, he stared at the road ahead, his hands placed at the bottom of the steering wheel. You examined the photo some more. This girl had Frankie written all over her. The girl wore his Standard Heating Oil hat and the way her eyes squinted as she laughed was exactly like Frankie.

He didn’t have to tell you because you knew. It clicked. This was it. The answer you’ve been dying to know for years. She was the reason why he left you. Your eyes began to well up with tears. So many thoughts were circling in your head. You were rendered speechless. You had so much you wanted to say but didn’t know where to start. You didn’t know how to feel. You felt overwhelmed.

You kept your eyes on the photo.

“2005, our first break up. When the long-distance wasn’t working when I was stationed halfway across the country.” He began to say. He paused for a moment. “I dated someone for a few months after we broke up, but it didn’t work out with them. A little while after, we got back together. I had no idea she was pregnant. She didn’t tell me. I didn’t find out until she passed away in an accident. I was contacted, they told me I had a 5-year-old daughter and if I wanted to care for her I needed to do a whole bunch of legal stuff to gain sole custody. If I didn't, she would have gone into the foster care system. The night I left you, that’s where I went. I drove across the country to get her.”

You stuck the photo back on the dashboard, then turned to look out the window, watching the tree fly by as he drove down the highway.

“What’s her name?” you asked.

“Lilah...She’s fifteen.”

It was silent in the truck. Frankie said nothing more letting you take in everything.

You sat there thinking about what he told you. You put yourself in his shoes, imagining if you were in his situation at the time.

“I’m not even mad.” You admitted.

“Y-you’re not?”

“I’m more hurt than I am mad, Frankie.” Tears rolled down your face. “I don’t blame you for what you did. You have a daughter and that was your priority. It was important for you to get to know her, take care of her and be her dad.” Your lips began to tremble more tears spilled from your eyes. “I’m just hurt at the fact you didn’t think you could tell me. God, Frankie you should have told me!”

“I was scared! I-I was so scared to tell you! I didn’t know what you were going to think or say! I was afraid you would’ve wanted nothing to do with me after you found out I had a kid with someone else! O-or what if you didn’t want to raise her with me?! It was easier for me to leave you before you did it to me!”

“Frankie, you think I’m THAT terrible of a person? Do you really think I would have walked out on you if you told me? I told you that night, whatever it was, I would have worked it out with you! You had a daughter for crying out loud! Yes, I admit I would have been taken back and shocked, but I would have supported you! I would have raised her and loved her my very own. There's no way I would have turned her away, she half you of you, Frankie.”

“If-If I could go back a-and change things that happened between us, how I ended things-” his voice was shaking, stuttering as he spoke.

“But you can’t Frankie! You can’t change the past! What you did was done, and you’re going to have to live with that! You’re going to have to face the fact I’m getting married! What happened, happened, We just have to let it go...We both have to move on and let each other go”

By the time you said that Frankie pulled up in your driveway, parking his truck. You quickly grab your bag and hop out, closing the door.

“Smiles!” He yelled after you, getting out of his truck, and shutting the door.

You were walking up the walkway when he grabbed your arm. “Smiles-”

“DON’T touch me!” You snapped at him.

“We’re not done talking!”

“There’s nothing to talk about! Leave! Just get out of here!” you cried. You were feeling so many different emotions, you were confused about how you felt, you just wanted him to go so you could be alone. You turn away, walking to your door.

“I love you!” he shouted

Your eyes widen, whipping around quickly. “NO! You don’t get to say that! Not now! What do you want me to say? What the fuck do you expect me to say?! That I love you back?! I can’t! I can’t say that!”

“You can’t or you won’t?! I know deep down in there you love me. I know you do, but you’re afraid to admit it! Too damn scared to admit that you still have feelings for me!

“FRANCISCO MORALES LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE AND GO HOME!”

Alex came rushing out of the house, hearing you yell. He looked at the both of you. You were a crying mess, your hair damps and wearing a T-shirt. Frankie stood there with a pained and angry look on his face.

“What the hell is going on?” Alex had a million questions running through their head but quickly rushed towards you, putting themselves between you and Frankie.

“Baby you alright? You okay?” he asked, cupping your head in their hands.

“Smiles-” Frankie starts walking towards you.

“You need to fucking leave.” Alex turns around, protectively standing in front of you.

Frankie stands there staring at you. Your lips tremble as you avoid his gaze.

“Just go Frankie…” you whispered.

And just like that, he left. Frankie got back in his truck and drove away.

You started to break down, hysterical crying in front of your house. Your chest felt tight as you sobbed. Alex took you into their arms, comforting you.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He says rubbing your back. “Let’s go inside.”

tag // @icanbeyourjedi @im-an-adult-ish

#triple frontier #Frankie Morales x Reader #francisco morales #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal #pedro

110 notes · View notes

finnwrld · 4 years

Text

Just Behind the Veil

Pairing: Sirius Black x Daughter/son!reader, Harry potter x reader (basically platonic but could be romantic if u squint, i just didn’t want to focus on love).

Word Count: 1.5k

Warning: ANGST, numbness, death, just all around feels (kinda fluffy ending tho)

Summary: Y/n is left broken and numb after her fathers death. she cut off ties to the magical word until Harry potter shows up on her door. Kinda a song fic to the song This is Home by Cavetown

A/N: i cried while writing this and i hope i did this feeling justice

im super proud of this and Ive been feeling pretty sad lately so this was honestly super therapeutic to write. anyways i hope you like it!

Your toast popped up from the toaster just as you finished poring yourself some whiskey. This wasn’t a surprise, you had done this same routine for the last four months. You had filled your days with useless activities to mask the pain.

Honestly, you hadn’t cried since that day. It still felt like it hadn’t happened. It felt as if he was going to step through the door at any second, and wrap his arms around you. That you would turn a corner and his musty smell would be there to greet you. There was a hole in your being. Something had just left you behind, gone away forgetting about you.

You took the toast out of the toaster and let it sit in your hand a bit. The warmth was comforting. You grabbed a plate and your whiskey and headed to the same spot on the couch. Slowly you started to eat your toast, not tasting anything. The whiskey brought some feeling back to you, but you were basically numb to it as well. You were numb to everything these days.

You finished your toast and laid down on the couch. It felt as if you had a weight pressing on your chest, digging deeper every day. But you were used to it always being there, since that day.

“Y/n,” Dumbledore said quietly as you entered his office. You had just gotten back from the Department of Mysteries and you were so tired. You just wanted to be left alone. You had been apparated away by Tonks halfway through the whole battle because a Death Eater and blasted your leg. You could barely walk but Dumbledore insisted you had to come to his office. You were quite grumpy about it. Couldn’t it wait for the morning?

“Hello Professor,” you said tentatively, waiting for whatever news he had to give you.

“Please, Sit.” Following his instructions, you limped your way over to the chair in front of his desk. You were dreading whatever news he was going to tell you, had somebody been hurt?

“What has happened?” you asked, not being able to sit unknowingly anymore. Dumbledore peered at you with his bright blue eyes, pity swirling through them.

“Your father has,” he took a deep breath, you stared at him, praying what you thought he was about to say isn’t what he was going to say, “he’s been killed.”

You stared into his eyes. You kept staring. It felt as if your entire world was collapsing all at that moment.

You couldn’t believe it.

You couldn’t accept it.

It wasn’t real.

Your breath was taken out of your body as the news washed over you. Your mind wasn’t able to understand what Dumbledore had just said.

“No.” Dumbledore continued to stare at you.

“No it's not true. YOU’RE LYING TO ME. I KNOW IT.” you were on your feet now, screaming at Dumbledore. “HE CAN’T BE DEAD!”

But Dumbledore continued to not say anything.

It wasn’t true. That’s not how the world works. That’s not fair. He had only known you for two years. You had two years with him. Two years. That’s not how it works. Fathers are supposed to know you for your entire life. Not two years. You didn’t have enough time. The world wasn’t going to do that to you. Not now. Not with him. That’s not how it’s supposed to happen. And then everything was wiped from your thoughts as it finally crashed over you.

You were never going to see him again.

A sob burst through your lips, crashing through the office with a terrible echo. You couldn’t even feel your body. Your face was streaming with tears and your mouth was open in a silent sob. Your hands had found their way to your hair and you were pulling at it, shaking uncontrollably.

A pair of arms wrapped around you, slowly maneuvering your hands away from your hair.

It couldn’t be real.

He was still alive.

He couldn’t have left you.

This wasn’t okay.

Your breathing shook slightly trying to block that day out of your thoughts. You continued your routine and stared up at the ceiling. You followed the beams with your eyes. It was raining outside. You had only just noticed. It pounded on the roof and mixed with the buzzing in your ears. But soon another noise filled the room.

Knocking.

You hadn’t had visitors ever, you thought you had been able to make sure of it. So you just ignored the noise and continued to block out all senses.

But the knocking wouldn’t stop.

“Fine,” you murmured. Your voice was raspy from not using it. You slowly made your way over to the door of your small house, the knocking still going. You brought your hand up to the cold brass door handle and pushed down, pulling the door open.

On the other side was Harry Potter.

He was soaking wet and was wiping his glasses on his shirt. His hair was just as messy as ever but he looked slightly more worn than the last time you had seen him.

“Hello Y/n,” He said quietly. You were dumbfounded.

“How did you find me?” you asked abruptly. He looked slightly started but said,

“I asked Moody, he knew.” Of course, he knew.

“Can I please come in?” He asked, nervously. You stared at him blankly.

“Um… I guess so.” He stepped into your house looking around.

“So this is where you went.” You just continued to stare at him, the weight on your chest getting heavier and heavier. “This is where you have been,” he locked eyes with you, and the weight got heavier.

“I just couldn’t be there, not anymore,” you said, your voice wavering. He nodded slightly.

“But you still have one more year.” You shook your head, and Harry’s face grew confused. You started to walk towards a cabinet in your living room, Harry on your heels. You opened one of the draws and pulled out a thin box with the Ollivander label on it. Harry looked even more confused. You handed it to him saying,

“Open it.” He took it from you and slowly pulled the green top off it. His eyes widened as he saw what’s inside.

“You… snapped your wand?” He said, looking up at you.

“I’m done with magic. I just can’t handle it anymore. Everything reminds me of him.” Your eyes threatened to fill with tears.

“Y/n… but you are an amazing witch. You can’t just throw it all away,” Harry said staring deep into your eyes. His were starting to water.

“I don’t care anymore. I don’t have the energy. I can’t do it, Harry.” You bit your lip, trying to hold in a sob that was threatening to burst through your lips.

You hadn’t spoken to anybody from his world since that day and it felt weird. You hadn’t told anybody this. It just fell out of your mouth.

“Do you know what he last said to me?” Harry shook his head. You took a deep breath,

“He looked me in the eye with a tear streaming down his face and said ‘Are you tired of me yet? I’m a little sick right now but I swear when I’m ready I will fly us out of here.’” And by the time you had uttered the last word a tear had broken free from your eye. And soon they were streaming down your face, catching on your lip. A sob erupted from your lips, much like the one in Dumbledores office. It rang through the house.

Your chest started to feel even heavier. It felt like all of the feelings you had been hiding and bottling up for so long had exploded through your body. Sadness, grief, and guilt crashed over your entire being and filled every crevice of you.

Your knees gave way and you were on the floor, on your hands and knees. Your body collapsing from sobs. Harry was there too. He wrapped his arms around you and you fell into him. You buried your head in his chest. He was shaking too, crying as well.

“I miss him so much, Harry.”

“I do too, y/n. I do too,” he muttered into your hair.

“The last time I ever spoke to him was an argument, Harry. He thought I didn’t want to be with him. And I-I yelled at him,” your body broke down in more sobs, guilt filling your body. “He died and we never made up, Harry. I’ll never be able to tell him I love him... a-and how much I need him.” Harry pulled you closer.

“Y/n he knows. I know he knows. He cared so much about you. He knows you love him,” Harry said, stroking your hair.

“I just miss him, I can’t handle it anymore. I just want to see him again.”

“Who says you won’t see him again?” Harry said gently. You looked at him confused. “He’s just behind the veil y/n.” And although you really didn’t understand what he was saying it comforted you, and for the first time in four months, you felt okay.

This was okay.

298 notes · View notes

donnerpartyofone · 4 years

Note

idk if you've talked about it, probably have. but if you don't mind to again, ketamine injections for depression? did it work? was it expensive? how long did it work for? ty.

dang, i never got a notification for this message. sorry! ketamine absolutely worked for the management of my depression, it was very expensive, and i think i would have needed more for it to become a longer term solution. i may still go back in the future if my lifestyle changes, but for right now, i can’t justify the cost--which is an insane thing to say when what i’m paying for is freedom from hurting myself, but, ya know, CAPITALISM.

the whole story is, i’ve been severely depressed my whole entire life; i don’t have any memories that don’t involve feeling morbidly upset, and i can remember things pretty sharply from the time i was slightly younger than 2.* i took ketamine recreationally some years ago when i was around 30 (i wasn’t adventurous about substances until i reached about that age), and i was totally astounded by how it affected my depression both during, and for weeks after the experience. it seemed to distance me from the oppressively immediacy of my bad feelings, giving me space to actually THINK about what was really bothering me, what kind of control i could have over how i assign importance and authority to things that don’t serve me, and what i might like my life to be like in the future. so, when i found out that there were ketamine clinics in new york, i kind of freaked out. actually, i found out about it from a guy who i met on an ayahuasca retreat upstate (which is its own hilariously mortifying story that i’ve been trying to write down for years and it keeps turning into a big unwieldy novel), who had been through the entire gamut of treatments for major depressive disorder. he liked his ketamine experience, but admitted that it was prohibitively expensive to keep up.

this is the place i went, and i recommend it to anyone who can afford it:

nyketamine.com

they say that they accept patients selectively, if you have treatment-resistant depression. i don’t know how strict they are about that, because by the time i came to them, i was looking pretty treatment-resistant. i’d been in and out of a few shrinks’ offices, and i’m basically incapable of taking any of the usual antidepressants because of how they affect other conditions i have. the process was, i filled out a request form on their website, and in a day or two, a clinician called to interview me over the phone about the character of my depression, and to gather some other anecdotal information about my history and health. the person i spoke to was very kind, attentive, and reassuring. the following day, someone called to set my first appointment. the whole reason i was able to do this is because of some inheritance that i received at the time; it’s $450 a session, and they suggest (or insist? i’m not sure) that you begin with a minimum of 6 sessions, each of them 2 days apart. after that, you just kind of monitor yourself to see when you think you need pickup sessions; the effect is cumulative and long term. i have no idea if they have any type of sliding scale accommodation, it could be worth asking.

when i went in for my first session, i had a brief interview with the head doctor, a navy veteran and anesthesiologist who had been working with ketamine in various capacities for 50 years. he explained a lot of things that i had no idea about, that were great to learn. periods of prolonged stress, especially while your brain is still developing, can result in a deficit of the neural pathways that you need to experience a full range of emotion; essentially, being chronically depressed and anxious can kind of give you brain damage. if you have that type of problem, it doesn’t matter what you do to try to boost your serotonin or dopamine or whatever; it’s like if you’re trying to get somewhere in your car and you can’t, not because you’re out of gas, but because the bridge is out. for some reason, ketamine switches back on the function that builds those pathways, so with regular therapeutic applications, you can actually heal the structural problem around your mood centers that’s reducing your emotional range to anxiety and depression. if you’re over 60 or so and your brain is less plastic, your chances of success aren’t as good as when you’re younger, but there’s always a chance; also, for some reason, ketamine plays especially well with estrogen, so women have a bit of a leg up. anyway, the doctor was great, and i really liked everyone there; it felt like they all knew they were doing something meaningful.

the sessions themselves are pleasant. they put you in a private room in a big cushy medical chair with a blanket and a pillow, and you let them know if you want the lights on or off. they give you an IV drip that lasts roughly an hour, and they communicate with you to figure out the dosage. you basically just tell them what feels comfortable, if the dosage they start you on is too low to notice. you won’t get something that puts you in a K hole, but you should enter a gentle dissociative state where you feel a little numb and floaty, and you might have a lot of interesting abstract thoughts. the worst part of it is just how bad you have to pee by the time the drip is done, when you’re still feeling a little anesthetized; sometimes i wound up looking at the bag with my flashlight to check if i had finished, and then i’d just press the call button to get them to come unplug me before i pissed my pants.

you’re not supposed to necessarily notice a difference right away, but you should detect a change in mood after a few weeks. i did. the way my disorder works is, most days i just have a low level background radiation of sadness and exhaustion, even on a “good day” when things are working out or i’m distracted by things i enjoy. when i wake up in the morning and realize i’m conscious and the time for sleep is over, my first feeling is disappointment, 100% of the time. then, i’d say roughly once a month or once every couple of months, i have a complete nervous collapse where i’m in so much pain i can’t really do anything but like drool and cry and let my eyes go out of focus, for anywhere from 1-7 days. there will usually be an apparent trigger; i’m a fairly dysfunctional person, and i frequently lose things, break things, and fuck things up even though i like STUDIED to do them, took it slow, asked for help, gave myself extra time, etc. but the thing is, i think the “trigger” is arbitrary, this is just a cyclic psychic event that builds up and waits to happen. but after my first battery of ketamine treatments, i had a particular day when i could tell that normally, i would quickly wind up curled up at the bottom of my bathtub scream-crying until i couldn’t move--and this time, i managed to just push through. not only did i not break down, but i actually got a number of difficult chores done, that i had put off because they seemed too intimidating, or like i wouldn’t be able to mentally handle my inevitable failure. i noticed more and more of that, while i was in proximity to the treatments, an ability to just buckle down and keep going. so it’s not like i felt HAPPIER or something, but i felt much more capable of coping, which was like a miracle honestly.

it’s been about 3.5 months since i last went in, and i think i could use a booster appointment, but as i said i just can’t fit it in with my financial reality right now. so, that sucks. but, i definitely feel that it was worth doing, and i would recommend it to anyone who can shoulder the cost. hopefully in the future, ketamine will become a much more common psychiatric treatment, and it will become available to more and more patients.

*A friend of mine just told me he read somewhere that you don’t actually recall memories from like 20 years ago, you just remember the last time you recalled them--so like, i THINK i remember my parents struggling to give me drops for pink eye in our first apartment when i was about 1.5 years old, but in reality, i just remember the last time i remembered it, or the earliest time i’m able to remember remembering it. pretty interesting! and kind of disturbing, like the idea that star trek-type teleporters don’t actually transport a person, they just DESTROY the original person and rebuild a new one on the other end, a thought that REALLY BOTHERS ME.

12 notes · View notes

katehuntington · 5 years

Text

Title: Ride With Me (part nine) Fandom: Supernatural AU Characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Ash Miles, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually) Word count: ±5050 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part nine: Everyone deals with the aftermath of the fight differently. Worried about Dean, Y/N goes out to look for him, but doesn’t find the man she got to know in the past weeks. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Save Yourself - KALEO (Y/N and Dean scene), Burden - Foy Vance (end scene). Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettishfor helping me. You girls are awesome betas. Thank you for your endless patience!

Ride With Me Masterlist

The evening has set in completely, a clouded sky obstructing a view of the galaxy above. Normally, a dark blue would stretch out above the ranch, blending into a lighter tone at the horizon in the west where the sun sank down hours ago. But today the sky is black. No moon nor stars decorate the night’s ceiling. Almost as if the weather knows that it’s not the time to be breathtaking. No one will look up to appreciate her anyway.

Y/N vacuumed the bunkhouse, then gave the kitchen a good once over, just to keep busy. Jo took her example and scrubbed the bathroom. At least the therapeutical cleanup isn’t for nothing, because there was enough sand between the floorboards for the footing of a new arena, and there were several organisms living on leftovers in the refrigerator. Wranglers are a bunch of swines, that much Y/N knows. She neatly folds the wrung out the cloth that she used, leaves it in the sink, and stares through the four-squared window. Still no sign of Dean. Honestly, she’s not sure if it would be reasonable to expect Ash back tonight, since he doesn’t have to show up for work in the morning. But Dean isn’t going to stay away, is he?

While she is cleaning the faucet until she’s able to see her own reflection in the copper, she moves past denying how worried she is about him. Staying here and letting him be, as Jo put it, feels wrong. A breath of air rolls from her lips when she eyes the wall clock again. Ten minutes to nine; he’s been gone for almost two hours. For a moment she contemplates what to do next. She can still ride Meadow, even though she intended to give her the day off. It will keep her busy, for sure, her horse will probably offer some comfort, too. But she cannot take away the concern she carries for the head wrangler, only he can do that. With three determined steps she’s by the door opening, and is about to push away the fly curtain, when she hears stumbling, coming from behind. Jo just exited the bathroom, almost tripping over the stick of the mop while holding up a bucket of water. She has purple rubber gloves on, her blonde hair looks quite similar to the rag she is holding, and her shirt is pulled into a knot above her belly button. It’s quite a peculiar sight.

“Where are you going?” she asks, perplexed. Surely, Y/N isn’t going to leave her friend to scrub the floor alone. “I’m gonna go to the stables. I think we did enough cleaning for one day, or a week,” she excuses. “To the stables, my ass. You’re going after Dean, ain’t ya?” Y/N opens her mouth to counter Jo with a firm ‘no’, but when she looks at her friend, she drops the act. One cocked eyebrow, that same judgemental grin she gave the intern when she commented on her boots being too clean for a ranch hand, the day the cowgirl picked her up from the airport. Darn, Jo is on to her. And so she presses her lips together and sighs. “He seemed upset,” she utters. “He’s a dude, he’ll live. Men are mad for a minute, walk it off and by the time they turn around, they have forgotten what the whole thing was about. They’re like goldfish,” her friend scoffs. Y/N snorts at that comparison. Clearly the ranch owner’s daughter has a strong opinion of the other gender. “I’m just going to check on him, alright?” she promises. “Do what you gotta do,” Jo replies. “You know where I’ll be.” Thankful Y/N smiles at her friend, then moves the fly curtain out of the way and steps outside. Jo might think it’s stupid of her to let Dean get under her skin, but that doesn’t mean she will leave her to struggle with it alone, in case it backfires. Odds are that the wrangler is going to hurt her feelings somewhere down the line, the numbers are not exactly in his favor. But knowing that Jo will be there with a safety net ready to catch her, is reassuring. After a mocking ‘hate to say I told you so’, she will be her friend.

Grateful, Y/N walks down in the direction she saw Dean disappear hours ago. The air is thick, as if another thunderstorm is about to break out. The wind died down completely, leaving the lands in silence. The only sound she can detect, is a rhythmical pound every so many seconds, much like a pile-driver. Y/N isn’t far off, because when she reaches the cattle pens, she finds Dean, slamming a post into the ground with a sledgehammer. Seems like she wasn’t the only one who kept her hands busy to get through the evening. Clearly still worked up over the fight he had with Ash, Dean swings the hammer over his head with everything that he’s got and hits the pole on the head. His grey shirt sticks to his torso, sweat shimmering on his skin, brought out by the lampposts that light the driveway. Veins lay thick on his forearms, dust and dirt smudges add to the shades in his dark features. He hadn’t noticed her yet, so caught up in the work that he fails to hear her footsteps. In silence, she watches, both intrigued and intimidated, but eventually gathers the courage to announce herself. “Dean?”

He pauses his action for a brief second and looks at the timid woman, bewildered. Out of breath, he takes her in, but decides not to respond and heaves the hammer again in order to smash it down, driving the post deeper into the ground. “It’s getting pretty late,” she adds, hoping to get some kind of response that is more than just a look. “I have to finish this fence,” he returns, his voice monotone, as if he is trying to restrain every emotion. “The fence will still be there tomorrow,” Y/N returns. “I’d rather fix it now.” He hits the pole again. “At least this fucking fence –” and again, “– I can fix.” Oh, yeah; this is definitely a good way to deal with things. Y/N watches him jam the sledgehammer down a couple of more times, overworking his body. “You’ve been going at it since 4 AM,” she counters, trying to convince him. “Please come inside?” “I’m fine,” he replies bluntly, between swings. Y/N huffs, sarcasm evident. “Yeah, I can see that.” The head wrangler doesn’t respond, yet keeps grinding. He feels the young woman’s eyes on him, though. She is reading into his actions, his words, his behavior, and it’s bugging the hell out of him.

Cautiously, she moves in a few steps closer. “Do you want to talk about it?” He drops the sledgehammer on the ground with a loud thump and turns to her, chest heaving and clearly annoyed. “Do I look like I wanna talk about it?” he scolds between breaths. “I told you I’m fine!” Taken aback by the hostility in his voice, Y/N stares at him. This is a side of Dean she has never seen before. Sure, he gave her a cold shoulder when she turned him down on her first night at the ranch, but the darkness that clouds his eyes now is different. He has closed himself off and as he was rebuilding the fence, he pulled up a wall as well. She understands that he’s hurt, but he is the second friend to lash out at her tonight and it’s more than she can handle. “You know what? I won’t waste your time then. I’m certainly not going to waste any more of my time on you,” she spits, acrimony on her tongue. “Good luck with your damn fence.”

Angry, Y/N turns on her heels before he can spot the tears burning in her eyes. Hurried steps take her away from the man that gets to her more than she should let him. You dumb goose. How could you have been so naive? Jo was right to warn her every single time she did. She has known her cousin her entire life and still Y/N begged to differ. For hours, she’s been worried about the guy who is only nice to his intern when he thinks he can seize the opportunity to get her into his bed. She empathized with him, and this is what she gets in return. A snarl from that selfish dick when she tries to help him. The cowgirl can hear him call out for her, but she ignores it. It’s not until she hears her name again close behind her, that she hesitates. “Y/N…” Strong yet tender fingers lock around her wrist and stop the woman who tries to flee from him. The action spins her around, but she avoids Dean’s eyes. When Y/N does glance up into those green orbs bouncing over her features, she can detect the dismay in his expression. If there is anything that she does not want him to see, it’s the tears that threaten to roll down her cheeks. The bitterness that affected his temper a moment ago is gone and guilt replaces it. Shit, what has he done? “I’m sorry,” he says, not a trace of swallowed pride. “You’ve been blamed for things that ain’t your fault enough today. You didn’t deserve that.” He loosens the grip on her wrist a little and lets his fingers slide down her smooth skin until he holds her hand, squeezing it gently. There are so many emotions from both sides of the spectrum coursing through Y/N, but the most evident is the sensation that races up and down every nerve like a racetrack, the start and finish where he touches her. She looks down at their entwined fingers, at how her hand, soft from the all-purpose cleaner, fits in his palm. This is the first time that there is intentional physical contact and it shuts down her brain and sends her heart into overdrive.

“You’re not fine,” she manages to say. “I’m not a simpleton, Dean.” “I know you’re not,” he acknowledges. “It’s just that…” He pauses, hesitant about his next step. Opening up about the things that occupy his mind and keep him up at night is not something he’s comfortable with. His entire life he only had a few of those conversations, a few with Bobby, the others with Ellen. He only talked to them because they already knew a thing or two about his past and the issues that it brought along. But apparently the newest member of the crew is able to pierce through that veil and see behind the mask he thought he wore so well. “Dean… I know this isn’t all about Ash, and whatever it is that is bothering you, it’s okay. You can talk to me.” Y/N squeezes his hand, ensuring, letting him know she’s ready to listen. The anger she felt a moment ago when he shut down on her has disappeared as the ice on the lakes at the end of winter, back in Freeport. She isn’t even sure how this happened, but standing here in the wide-open spaces, lingering in his touch, it feels so good and so safe. It brings a calm over her she didn’t realize she longed for.

“I - I don’t really talk about this stuff,” the head wrangler admits. “I dunno, it feels like when I do, I just rattle shit up… It wouldn’t do anyone good.” He lets go of her, before the girl he feels attracted to starts to wonder what the connection means, but runs his thumb over her knuckles gently before her fingers slip from his. The moment he pulls away, the wrangler already aches for her touch. Uneasy, he turns away and rests both his hands on the mid rail of the fence, his hunched shoulders blocking a clear view of his face. He cannot let her see it. He cannot let her see him. “So that’s your strategy? When something bad happens, you bury it?” Y/N isn’t judging him, he can tell by the way she asks the question and is looking at him, curious and sympathetic. What she is doing, though, is trying to understand how his mind works. What if she’s able to decipher his code? What if she can speak this foreign language that he made his? What if she figures me out? Just the thought of letting it all rise to the surface scares Dean to death. Knowing that the one person he wants to impress, who he wants to do good by, will be able to tell how broken he truly is. And yet, despite the fear that is eating him up inside, he cannot pretend. He cannot lie to her. “Yeah, I guess I do,” he admits. “Usually it works for me.” “But not always,” she knows. “No, not always.”

He’s quiet now, his gaze locked on the soil that has become solid again after this morning’s rain. Y/N observes his body language; how he’s turned slightly away from her, head tipped down, resting his arms on the fence as if he needs something to lean on. It’s a stark contrast to the confident smile and bright eyes that she got used to. This is a part of him people rarely get to see, Y/N is very much aware of that. What she’s also aware of, is how delicate the situation is. Pushing him to talk will only trigger the opposite, and so she lets him be. The words she leaves between the two of them have only one purpose: to make him feel better. “If you don’t feel like talking, that’s alright. But what happened to Ash, you know he was wrong to take it out on you, right? This is not your fault.” Even in the dim light she can see his jaw flex, confirming her suspicion that he does, indeed, blames himself for his friend’s departure. “It was my decision. One I had to make, but still. At least I should’ve been honest with him. He had a hunch that something wasn’t right and I could have eased him into it. Instead, I told him everything was going to be alright. Who does that?” the handsome wrangler ponders, able to kick himself in the head for his tactic. “He’s family, he deserves better.” “You tried to protect him,” Y/N soothes. The cowboy scoffs and pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth. “And look how that turned out…”

Dean appreciates the cowgirl’s efforts. Hell, he admires her for them, because she could have walked off and let him rot after that snarl he gave her, and it would have done him justice. The thing is, Y/N wasn’t far off when she assumed that he wasn’t just upset about Ash. His whole life he has tried to protect the people he loved at the expense of himself, without question. One person stands out from all the others. A boy with hazel hair, bangs hanging in front of his eyes which used to look up to Dean admiringly. Always carrying some book around, always reading and studying. Quiet, observant, smart, a will of his own, even at a young age. A boy Dean fought for to keep safe, tried to make sure he would land on his feet alright, and be given all the opportunities he deserved. A boy who he took the hit for, every single time. A boy who would call Dean his big brother. A boy called Sam. He failed him, just like he failed Ash today.

“Hey…” The woman who is breaking down his walls brings him out of the trance he was stuck in, her voice alone having that effect. He turns to her again as she steps closer and looks up at him. “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but sometimes it’s easier to open up to an outsider.” She’s not done with her pledge, but Dean interrupts her either way. “You’re not an outsider,” he makes clear. “I know you’re not from here, but that doesn’t mean you don’t belong. In fact, I think you are exactly where you should be.” The words quiet her, leaving a smile on her lips and warmth in her heart. Feeling accepted and welcome, she lets her eyes glide over the dark desert lands on her right. Her surroundings look exactly the same as it did on the evening she arrived on the property. She remembers how alien this world seemed, witnessing a landscape like she had never seen. Her gaze captures the overhead sign above the driveway, ‘Gold Canyon Ranch’ carved out of the worn pinewood. Maybe Dean is right; maybe she is exactly where she needs to be. “Well, outsider or not…” She restores eye contact, a calm exuding from her that soothes him. “You can always knock on my door.” For the first time tonight, she can spot a glint of relief in his expression. It’s almost unnoticeable, but it’s there. Dean is not going to make any promises, though. Not because he doesn’t want to get close to her; on the contrary. But revealing what he’s truly about, what has inflicted the scars which haven’t healed even after all those years, it will scare her away. “Thank you,” he responds, grateful. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

It’s a good enough answer for Y/N and she smiles back, glancing up into his eyes. There she is again, trapped like a butterfly in a spider’s web, unable to move or look away. His breathing has slowed and is back to normal after the exertion, but beads of sweat are still forming on his forehead, a drop rolling down his temple. He wipes his brow with his forearm, barely breaking eye contact. They both sense it, the change in the atmosphere, just like when the two had a moment under the Joshua tree. God, he wants to kiss her so bad that lust almost wins the battle it’s fighting with his confidence. He is offered another chance to make a move, but he’s not going to take it. This smart, kind, and strong woman deserves much better than the damaged man that he is. He breaks the tension by glancing down briefly while clearing his throat. When he looks back at her, he could swear he sees disappointment in her gorgeous eyes and regret stabs him in the gut. “I’m, uh - I’m gonna finish up that fence,” he stammers, making a fist and pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “Need a hand?” she asks, recovering quickly from the letdown. Dean seems stunned by her offer, because he frowns at the intern after a double-take. “You want to help me fix the fence?” “I’m only offering once,” she warns jokingly. The head wrangler grins, amused. “Well, in that case. Yeah, I could use a hand,” he accepts.

The cowgirl walks past him, eyeing him over her shoulder as she parades away. He stares for a second, smiling at the sight of her picking up the sledgehammer along the way, which apparently is heavier than she anticipated. The clumsy way she handles the large tool makes him chuckle, joyful for the first time tonight. No wonder, because without trying, she is absolutely stunning. A warmth spreads through him in waves, and he is highly aware of it. He recognizes the sensation. It has washed over him several times already, always when he laid his eyes on her. The girl with bright eyes and messy hair after a hard day’s work, despite her efforts to contain her locks. The girl who cares for others, who is kind to every living creature on this planet. She is beautiful in every way, inside and out. Under the yellow ray that falls down on her from the lantern above, she turns around. The spotlight creates dark shadows on the ground, but at the same time, it illuminates her features with a warm glow.

“Are you coming or what? That fence isn’t gonna fix itself,” she challenges. Dean scoffs with a laugh, appreciating the attitude. Then he heads her way, stopping her when she almost loses her balance after heaving the large hammer above her head. “Why don’t you give the sledgehammer to me, before someone gets hurt,” he mocks, holding out his hand. “I can handle a hammer,” she returns, huffing defensive. Doubtful, the wrangler looks back at her. “I think the fence is gonna disagree with you there.” “Do you want my help, or not?” she recalls, letting out a laugh. “Yeah, I want your help,” he admits.

The words lay deeper than would appear on first notice. It’s not intentional and Dean is worried for a second that she will pick up on what he really wants; he wants her to help him. Help him to heal, help him breathe, help him to love. No one has ever come through to him like she has already, and that’s exactly why he won’t make a move. He is beginning to understand what this all means, what is happening to him. How he feels about the newest member of the crew, is different. It’s mind-blowing and exciting, yet at the same time, it scares the shit out of him. The space she has occupied in his heart is growing steadily, but he can’t allow himself to act on it, because he simply can’t be selfish with her. That’s okay, though. Having her around as a colleague and a friend for the limited time she will stay with him trumps not having her in his life at all. “I’m gonna give this pole a couple more knocks on the head. Can you fetch the new woodwork?” He nods at the wooden planks, stacked up in the back of his truck, a little further on the driveway.

Reluctantly, Y/N lets go of the hammer and turns to get the new material for the fence. By the time she brings three new rails over, he has leveled the post with the others still standing. While she holds the board in place, Dean nails it to the post. In order to hold still, Y/N stands close to the head wrangler as he secures the fence. She fixates on the plank she’s holding, trying to ignore the fact that she is seriously invading his personal space. He smells like the damp earth below their feet and a hint of deodorant mixed with hard work; it’s the opposite of a turn-off. Trying to distract herself, she listens to the ticking sound of the head on the pin, until all the new woodwork is mounted to the posts. Sometimes he pauses for just a short second, his gaze burning her skin. Once he’s done, Y/N picks up the broken pieces left by the cattle when they stormed through, and carries them to Dean’s Chevrolet, where she lays the wood down in the cargo bed. Now that she and the handsome wrangler are a few more feet apart, she feels like she can breathe again, missing him close by at the same time. As she leans against the truck, he loads up the last of the wood that he didn’t use for the restoration. Again, his eyes linger on her briefly; the poor guy just cannot help himself, can he? Suddenly she feels bold.

“Ash was right about one thing, though.” “Oh, yeah? What’s that?” he wonders, as he dusts off his hands. She grins cheeky, biting her bottom lip. “You are desperate to get in my pants.” Dean stares at the cowgirl flabbergasted, eyebrows shooting up. Whoa, where the hell did the shy girl go? One question surfaces in the sea of thoughts that her remark triggered; what is her angle? Does she want him to get in her pants? The handsome wrangler scoffs nervously and looks down flustered, as he rubs the back of his neck. But he doesn’t deny it. He can’t. “What, no comeback?” she nags, expecting either a smart or flirty return. “There are some things I just can’t argue with,” he chuckles, a blush pushing past the freckles on his cheeks. “Ain’t no reason to get cocky, though.”

He winks at her flirtatiously, his bright green eyes joined by a smug grin and Y/N cannot help but laugh. Who would have known that she missed Cowboy Casanova? It’s good to see he got his wit back, because he had her worried there for a second. She has spotted the pattern, though. Whenever he is forced to deal with an issue he wants to steer clear of, he dodges the matter by either making fun of the situation or by shutting down completely. So this is his defense mechanism, this is his armor. But beneath all the silence and the horse crap, he admitted straight up that he wants her. Ash might have implied that the head wrangler is only following her like a lost puppy because he wants to keep counting the girls he had in fives, but Y/N knows that’s not all that there is to it. With nothing more than a look, he made it pretty clear he feels something for her that Friday evening after training when they had a moment under the Joshua tree. Now that assumption has been confirmed.

As the gears in her head are turning, she begins to walk across the gravel parking lot back to the bunkhouse, but it’s not just her grey matter that is doing overtime. Contemplating his own words, Dean gets behind the wheel of his Chevrolet. The fact is, he wasn’t just flirting. He’s simply telling the truth. But hasn’t that been the case the entire time? The wrangler is hungry for the new ranch hand, he’s pining so bad that selflessness alone is stopping him from running up the driveway and closing her in his arms. Strangely enough, it has nothing to do with sex, or greed, or any other sin, despite what others might think. For a moment, he worries if she might have read into his words just now. He doesn’t want to give her hope, or does he? Fighting his mind, he sighs; he’s so tired he can’t even think straight.

With a flip of the key, the engine comes alive, only to drive a couple of hundred yards. After steering the black pickup to a spot next to the shed, Dean leaves the transmission in park. He will unload tomorrow, today he’s calling it quits. A grunt passes his lips when he hoists himself out of the car again. Damn, if his muscles are sore now, he doesn’t want to picture how bad it’s going to hurt in the morning. Maybe a long hot shower will do him good, he definitely needs one to rid himself from the filth he’s covered in. The head wrangler strolls up the trail that leads to his bed and finds the girl he’s losing himself to, watching the bunkhouse from some distance. When Dean levels with her, he sees why she stopped. On the bottom steps of the porch, two figures sit and talk: one of them is Jo, the other is Ash. “Well, what do ya know,” Dean huffs, surprised. Relieved, Y/N smiles. “Seems like he came around. Go talk to him.”

His chest constricts a little with the thought of the confrontation alone and he hesitates. His friend is most likely still mad at him. What if doesn’t want to settle this? What if he screws it up again? When Y/N detects that the man next to her is in two minds, she nudges him reassuringly with her shoulder, smiling at him before he gathers enough courage to step forward. The pair are walking up to the steps, when Jo spots them. The cattle worker next to her looks up now too, shame and uneasiness draping his features when he sees the head wrangler. The blonde cowgirl gets to her feet, picking up her hat that she had put down next to her. “I’ll leave you guys to it,” she says. “Comin’, Yankee?” Y/N nods and passes Dean, shortly squeezing his arm supportingly as she does. “Good luck,” she whispers, as she glances over her shoulder. He nods at her thankfully and takes Jo’s spot on the porch stairs, as the two girls retreat inside. An awkwardness fills the air within seconds, thick and suffocating, yet neither of the men say anything in order to break it. After what feels like minutes of going over what has been said and still needs to be, Ash gets up. Motionless, Dean sits on the step, forearms on his knees, fingers forked together. He hears his friend’s footsteps on the floorboards, followed by the rattling of the bamboo fly curtain and then the eerie silence; Ash has walked away.

Pained, Dean closes his eyes and presses the knuckles of his clasped hands against the bridge of his nose. The tightness in his chest that he felt when he realized he had to face his friend has turned into an uncomfortable ache now. It seems to be a recurring theme in his life, people walking out on him. Fuck, why is it so hard to do this? Why can’t he just tell Ash he’s sorry? He takes a breath and lifts his head, staring at the lights coming from the neighbors property, several miles up the road. Then something moves into his peripheral vision and he turns to find a can of PBR beer handed to him. Dean’s eyes move up to see who is holding the beverage, the weight falling off his shoulders when he sees the guy who rocks the mullet. The head wrangler takes the cold refreshment while Ash sits down next to him again. They both open their cans and take a slug of the golden brew. The silence returns, but it’s a much more pleasant one this time. Without saying a word, they’ve made peace. That does not mean, though, that nothing should be said.

“Ash?” “Hmm?” “I - uh… I’m-–” “– Yeah, brother. Me too.”

Thank you for reading! I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read part ten here

#Ride With Me #Dean x Reader #Cowboy!Dean #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester series #Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester x Y/N #Dean x Y/N #Dean Winchester reader insert #Supernatural AU #SPN AU #Dean Winchester AU #Supernatural #SPN #Cowboy!Dean x Reader #Dean angst #Dean fluff #Kate Huntington

233 notes · View notes

chanbangblog · 5 years

Text

ive only felt religion when ive lied with you- 9

A/N: (smut, Chan x reader, Canon compliant, fan/idol)

That night you dreamed more than usual.

You dreamed you were with Chris back home at the park you usually jogged at.

“Chris this is where I used to play when I was a kid! Isn’t it so small and quaint?” you asked, grinning. This must be tiny compared to the parks in Seoul.

“Yes, it’s so peaceful. Thank you for bringing me here, it’s healing.” He beamed back at you.

The golden sunlight was trickling through the limbs of the trees and the breeze rustled the leaves. Chris looked beautiful in this scenery. Like he was just part of it.

“I used to love to swing, sometimes I would swing and sing Disney songs! Even when I was in college!” you confessed.

“I want to hear you sing y/n! I thought you said you couldn’t!” Chris said while taking your hand and walking in the direction “you’ve got to let me hear it now.”

“Chris I really can’t sing! I just did it for fun. It was therapeutic, I guess.” You said, while picking a swing.

“Just pick a song you enjoy. You said you liked Disney, those aren’t hare to sing. You’ve heard me sing a million times but I’ve never heard you. It’s not fair.” He said the last sentence while pouting his lips like a baby, he looked so damn cute you couldn’t resist.

You opened your mouth to sing when you noticed something out of the corner of your eyes. People. Walking in your direction. Your stomach twisted when you remembered you weren’t supposed to be in public with him, even in your small town.

You turned to tell him you both should leave but he was gone, his swing still swaying back and forth. You started walking which quickly turned to a run to find him.

But you never did.

You awoke from your dream feeling like you had a nightmare, recalling the times you had woken up still so scared from a dream that you didn’t even dare move or open your eyes. The feeling you were having now was the same. Your limbs were stiff as board and your eyes stayed shut.

You slowly wiggled your fingers to bring yourself out of your self-induced paralysis and felt Chris’s bare skin beneath them. This was your second morning waking up to him and you again wondered if anything would ever beat this feeling you had with him. You willed your eyes open, recalling the heavenly sight that you knew was waiting for you.

Opening your eyes you turned your head to see him. Your limbs were tangled together and his arm was thrown across your stomach. No, you never would get used to this. Whoever this man ends up marrying was the luckiest person in the universe for being able to see this sight every morning.

You didn’t move anymore knowing it would wake him if you did. You just watched the rhythmic motions of his chest rising and falling with his breaths until his eyes popped open. You jumped at the sudden movement and gasped.

“Were you watching me sleep y/n? That’s a bit creepy.” Chris grinned over at you.

“Um, no. Well, yes. But I’m not a creep! I just wanted you to sleep in and you’re attached to me like a koala!” you sputtered.

“I’m just kidding babygirl, calm down.” Chris said, cuddling back up to you.

“I mean you’re like really beautiful, so who wouldn’t stare?” you quipped.

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?” he questioned, twisting his head in an angle to move in to a kiss.

“Ah-!” you yelped, pushing him away while getting up, “we have morning breath, let’s brush our teeth” you beckoned him towards the bathroom.

“You’re right,” he said following you, “but I was going to deal with it to kiss my beautiful girl.”

Yeah, I already woke up once but somehow I think it’s possible to do it again? Am I in Inception? Cause there’s no way he just called me that in real life right now.

“You’re gross.”

Smooth, y/n. Smooth.

“Hey that’s something coming from you!” Chris sputtered, “I saw you eat a pepperoni off the concrete last night!”

“I was drunk and hungry!” you defended.

“It was before we took shots!” Chris retorted back.

Well he had you there.

“Shut up and brush your teeth. Stays don’t want to see you with yellow teeth.” You teased, putting toothpaste on his brush.

“They’d love me either way,” Chris hummed.

He had you there too.

You turned your attention to the mirror and realized you were both still naked. But honestly, when did you ever wear clothes around each other when you two were alone? You’d learned the hard way your first morning together that he preferred you sans clothes.

More importantly, when did you all get so fucking domestic? Having playful banter while brushing your teeth in the morning together getting ready for the day. Relationships repulsed you. You absolutely gagged when your friends would talk about their significant other’s and their fluffy domesticated bullshit. But now you kinda got it. You could wake up and get dressed and spend every single day watch paint dry with Chris and probably never get tired of it, because he would be there with you.

Damn, you have it bad for this guy.

“Perhaps we should take another shower?” Chris smirked at you, looking like the devil.

“What?” you questioned, “we just took one before bed.”

“Shhhh…” he waved you off while turning to turn on the water.

God. He has a nice ass.

You both stepped in the shower and the water felt lovely running over your skin, you breathed in the steam. Chris hugged you around the waist in an effort to get some water on him. Your face naturally found it’s way to the crook of his neck and you just couldn’t help but kiss the soft skin there. It felt so right. His body was so perfect, it deserved to be worshiped, in your mind.

Chris let out a sigh at your ministrations, and you slowly began to kiss lower, his chest, his stomach, all the way down to his half-hard dick. God, his dick was pretty. It was just impossible not to taste.

He let out another sigh as you took him in his mouth. Your hand pumping him at the bottom while you used your tongue to coax him to full hardness. You swirled your tongue around like you knew he would like, his subtle thrust into your mouth confirmed it and spurred you on further.

You snaked your free hand around his back side and pulled him closer, encouraging him to keep going. He continued bucking his hips into your mouth until his dick was hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes watered but you willed yourself not to gag. Not when he was enjoying himself this much.

“You look so good down there taking my dick babygirl,” he rasped at you, sounding utterly fucked out. Which was good, that’s just how you wanted him. You tried to smile and looked up at him. Your eyes locked. “God I wish I had a picture of this,” he mused.

You decided to respond, show him how nasty you could be, you sucked off his dick with a pop, “you fucked me so good babe, you deserve to have your dick sucked every day for how hard you made me cum,” you said in the sultriest voice you could muster.

His eyes glistened, darkened.

“Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you again until you cum?” but he didn’t wait for an answer, he was too busy lifting you off your knees and spinning you around to bend you over.

Your hands met the wall as you waited for his fingers, but the head of his cock was pressing into your entrance instead. God, you relished the feeling. Your pussy was throbbing for him.

He pushed into you with such force your head almost hit the wall, your arm muscles worked hard to support yourself against his pace. You let out a moan, he was fucking you like his life depended on it. You sighed at the feeling, loving knowing he was using your body to get off. Stretching your walls with no foreplay. It was nasty, it was urgent and you loved it.

“Is this what you wanted baby?” he asked, voice strained.

“Yes, yes, fuck yes,” you chanted.

He pulled out and grabbed you once again to spin you around to face him.

“Go to the bed, I want you to ride my cock until you come undone again.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, you scrambled out of the shower, not even bothering to turn the water off and he followed you. You were both soaking wet when you pushed him down on the bed. The bed was sure to be ruined after this, but you didn’t care, not when you had this beautiful man underneath you who was determined to make you cum. What else could matter?

You climbed on top of him and straddled him, taking time to line up his cock with your entrance before sliding down, there was no time to be wasted now. You started to ride him, just like he’d asked. His hands were bruisingly tight at your hips.

“Don’t hold back baby,” you said, “I want you to feel good too.”

“Fuck, what did I do to deserve you?” Chris sighed as he started fucking up into you with brutal force. It burned in the most delicious way.

He sat up and put one hand behind your ass while his lips found your nipple. He began sucking as you threw your head back in pleasure, it was so much, so many achingly good sensations, all at once. You felt like you were going to explode.

“I know you’re close baby, cum for me,” he instructed, and who were you to deny him something he wanted so much? You increased the pace, which you didn’t realize was possible as his hand moved down to where your bodies met.

He found your clit easily and began tapping it and rubbing rough circles, just enough to send you toppling over the edge. Your orgasm rocked your core, sending vibrating sensations throughout your whole body, you rode it out, mouth falling open in a gasp while Chris fucked you through it.

When you came back to your senses Chris was staring at you in what looked like awe.

“Cum baby, I want you to cum.” You said, pushing him back down on the mattress.

Your limbs felt like jello after your orgasm but you wanted him to cum so bad, you used every ounce of strength to keep the pace, he saw your struggle and you swore he said “cute” under his breath, and flipped you over on your back. You arched your back to raise your hips to give him better access.

“Fuck you’re so hot,” He said, with both hands on your hips, fucking into you until he pulled out and finished himself with his hand, white spurts covering your stomach. Watching him touch himself was the most erotic thing you’d ever witnessed.

You couldn’t help it when you ran your finger through his cum pooling on your stomach and licked it clean with your tongue for him to watch. He faltered while watching you, his hand grabbing your knee to hold himself up.

“Y/n…” was all he said, and then he collapsed next to you.

You laid there like that, side by side on the completely soaked bed, breathing roughly, both fighting for your composure.

“Well,” you said, making note of the water you could still hear running in the bathroom, “I guess we should go finish that shower.”

#stray kids fics #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan fic #skz fics #skz smut

107 notes · View notes

delicrieux · 5 years

Text

the phases of a firework

pairing: fred weasley x f!reader

fandom: harry potter

summary: fred weasley experiences the lana del rey-esque american dream

d’s note: not written by me, but rather by a lovely nonnie! it’s a honor to post it xoxo leave some love in the comments!

-------

I. Lifting Charge

Mother says they’re going to Florida for the summer. Florida means mosquitos, and sunburns, and salty skin and hair and breath because yes, Florida is a fucking cesspool, but for some reason, he doesn’t find himself thinking of any of that and is actually, really when you think about it, kind of calm. Everyone in the household finds this alarming. -“You’re not upset?” -“No.” -“Disappointed?” -“Not really.” -“Dad’s got a cousin in the Keys, that’s why we’re going.” -“Sounds like it’ll be nice.” -“We went to Egypt, you know, like, saw the pyramids and everything.” -“We can make sand pyramids.” But Florida doesn’t have sand. It doesn’t have beaches, either, at least not the part they could afford, because Molly and Arthur Weasley had scraped together everything to get that trip, because the kids didn’t need to know that it was possibly the last time they could leave the Burrow for a summer, because things weren’t safe at home and maybe a temporary home could suffice for a while. They didn’t need to think about the fact that people would die, statistically speaking, people they probably knew, and the kids didn’t need to worry or ask questions or complain, and they didn’t, because all they could afford was a trailer, enchanted, yes, but not exactly a condo, but you know what, no one really paid it any mind. Everyone was quiet, actually, and Molly and Arthur Weasley gripped their trunks and asked themselves how they thought they could hide a war under a swimming suit.

II. Time Delay Fuse

It’s not that it’s hot out, it’s just that balding grass patches and What Type of Blue Even is That sky doesn’t attract many, or really anyone at all. Ginny is on her side of the bunker, writing letters to friends, or maybe no one, just herself. Ron has been napping since they hopped off the portkey, Percy didn’t bother to come, and the parents are off doing parent-y things. George is who’s left, and that’s never a problem, but he’s worried about sunburns, and Fred assures him mate, we’ve got sunblock but it isn’t enough, and that’s why he’s sitting by himself in a lawn chair, Wayfarers resting on a sweating nose, and Johnny Thunder’s playing in a distant trailer and world. It’s oddly therapeutic, the bottom of the classes. There’s no worries, no cares, it’s like retirement but better because there’s no one they know anywhere around, and everything is finally kind of calm. He finds that alarming. -“You like fireworks?” It’s a nasal, chirpy sort of a voice she has. Like an alarm. An alarm goes off in him, not anything bad, just the inner male siren that blares and rings and screams Girl! Girl! Girl! He smiles to himself, thinking about the gargling sort of noise that would make when spoken aloud. George would’ve found it funny. -“Hello?” -“Sorry?” -“Fireworks. You good with them?” He doesn’t know why he’s nodding, maybe it’s because her hair shines that weird, oil gas spilled on a pavement colour, or maybe it’s because she’s standing there, expecting him to go, and who is he to disappoint, and he finds himself leaving the security of the lawn chair and following her up and into the empty part of the balding grass field. It takes half a day and three bottles of what the fuck is this anyway and they’ve managed to set up the perfect show. It’s the fourth of July, American Independence Day, yet it feels like everyone in the park is shackled.

III. Bursting Charge

He’s proud, drunk, and finding himself patriotic for a country he’s spent barely seven hours in. He’s had too much of Swamp Juice, that’s what she calls it, the mixture of Fanta and Bourbon, and the bottom of his stomach is twinkling and tingling, like there are mini little bombs going off in his gut. She says it’s a normal feeling, but he’s not too sure about that. He’s had liquor, of course he has, and one could consider him a sommelier, of sorts, in the way teenagers often pride themselves on knowledge of Grown Up Things. One of his favourite memories are when he and George broke into the liquor cabinet and stayed up till six in the morning downing bottle after bottle of gigglewater. Their stomach hurt, cramped, and their eyes were dried, but it was a night he’d cherish to the grave. But that wasn’t the same feeling. That was what it meant to be drunk and happy, happy that you’re drunk and drunk enough to be happy, but this, the sinking yet soaring and bubbling and fizzling sort of brew in his gut wasn’t that at all, and he’d heard Charlie mention a year back about some guy he’d met that bred some creature he couldn’t remember the name of at the moment. Charlie’d said it was indistinguishable, a feeling you get once or twice. Fred didn’t believe in soulmates, and he didn’t know if he really believed in being in love. It was a dangerous thought to have in a time as dangerous as these, but it wasn’t as if he cared all that much about the danger of things. -“You gonna dance?” She had her hand stretched out to his, hip cocked and lip quirked, and maybe it was the way the fireworks danced behind her shoulders. She was metallic nail polish and Disney World flip flops, two dollar tube tops and stolen hair ties, but she was smiling at him through a Cherry Coca Cola flavoured lip gloss grin, and who is he to disappoint, so he’s standing, swaying, dancing along to the sound of cracking and popping and booms, and he may have snuck in an enchanted firework or two, and the crowd is cheering and smiling and just nearly crying, and so is he when she leans in for a kiss. They’re proud, drunk, and Fred decides that Cherry Coca Cola is the greatest drink in the world.

IV. Stars

The summer stays hot, in every way possible. They spend afternoons melting ice cubes on each others backs and smoking cheap hash on the roof of her mobile home. He learns her parents are dead. She learns his aren’t. He doesn’t invite her to meet the family, but she, in a way, invites herself, and Molly and Arthur are absolutely ashamed when they find out that Fred didn’t immediately bring over the poor girl, look at her, she’s far too skinny. Ginny, dear, put on a kettle and a warm meal, she’s positively gaunt! She finds it amusing. She has dinner that night in the Weasley vacation trailer, and every night after it, too. Fred doesn’t mind. Some nights, he sneaks to her place and they read travel maps, planning future road trips to Nevada and eating Quaker Oats by the handful. She looks at the stars, he looks at her, it’s all very cliche, including her admiration for his super cool accent. He finds it amusing. -“So, what’s gonna happen when summer ends?” -“Whatya mean?” She huffs her smoke, a sign he’s familiar with. She’s frustrated but calm. Patient, but not for long. -“I mean, what’s gonna happen to you? To us? You’ve got school, yeah, but after, I mean, like, I don’t wanna jump to conclusions or anything but-” -“I like you.” -“I like you, too.” -“And I like hanging out with you.” The light in her joint goes out, and it matches the light in her eyes. -“So that’s it then.” - “I’ve just, I mean, there’s a lot going on back at home and, really, I don’t wanna drag you into it.” -“Yeah.” -“There’s a lot, really, there is, and I just wouldn’t want to-” -“No, yeah, it’s fine. I get it.” It takes him a few days, and a few talks with George, but it’s three in the morning and he’s had some liquid luck and he’s knocking on her door in Tommy Bahama shorts and a Life is Good shirt and he’s pretty sure he should’ve put deodorant on and spent more than two-fifty on the gesture but- -“It’s three in the fucking morning, Freddie. Either I’m about to die or you’re about to die, and neither option is really good, so what the fuck-” -“Marry me.” She stops talking, and breathing, and she’s about to laugh until he holds up a plastic little Made in China ring he got at one of those machines in the front of the supermarket, and it probably doesn’t even fit her, but all she can really think is thank God it’s not a damn Ring Pop. -“Are you fucking kidding me, red?” -“I don’t mean today, or tomorrow, or anytime soon. I mean that when that thing going on is over, and when I’m out of school and ready to live life, I wanna live it with you. We could get a bigger trailer, or maybe an RV, and we could ride around America and, and collect special fireworks from around the world. We could have a kid or two, and they could live with us, or maybe we’d just start out with a dog, I don’t know, all I know is I wanna live my life like it’s a never-ending summer with you.” She’s not sure now if she’s laughing or tearing up, either is pathetic, but she crosses her arms over her Betty Boop pajama top and decides to find this adolescent adoration somehow sweet. - “What colour RV are you thinking?” - “Red.”

V. Ash

It’s in the form of a letter, and in a way, that’s better than a call, because then they couldn’t hear her sobbing on the other end. She doesn’t really know why she’s crying. They hadn’t spoken in years. They were sixteen and stupid, as all sixteen year olds are, but the worst part is believing in that sixteen year old dream and thinking the flame was still lit. She couldn’t blame it on her age anymore. She was just stupid. She stares at the paper, passed away, as if that was a better way of phrasing it instead of just saying dead. She can’t be too horribly upset. As far as she was concerned, he’d been dead for four years. Four years. Fuck. He was four, already. -“Where are we headed?” -“I dunno. Nevada?” -“Cool.” He’s got his hand stuffed in a Quaker Oats box, and she finds hers traveling to the two-fifty Made in China ring she keeps on her neck. She’ll tell Molly and Arthur someday soon, maybe once they hit Oregon, she’s not ready for England winters, because right now, life is red. Red with pain and anger, yeah, but also with love, and with red hair, and red lips, and red Cola, and red American fireworks, and red rings, and flip flops, and RVs, and yes, life fucking sucks and war fucking sucks and everything nowadays should be really very alarming, but when she sits back in the driver seat, travel maps sprawled and a four year old in a faded Life is Good shirt sitting in the passenger seat, she finds that life is actually, really when you think about it, kind of calm.

54 notes · View notes

shirleylawson · 3 years

Text

R&R in Scotland

May 2014

I am telling you! You could not make this shit up!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am convinced I am jinxed. Someone is stabbing a wee voodoo doll with my face on it, and the bastard is not perturbed even though I keep fighting him/her and pretending like it’s water off a ducks back, with my, "bring it on" jinx fairy attitude! And still my jinx keeps trying to break me. But it’s a weird kind of jinxed because I personally feel extremely lucky and blessed, even though the jinx still keeps throwing me shit.

My latest jinxed story is this week I’ve had in Scotland. One week today I’ve been here. I so badly needed a little ME time and to decompress. Scotland/home seemed like the answer but I can't say it' been therapeutic.

I was only here a few days when I woke up with stabbing pains in my chest and an ambulance was called by my Lesley, and the next thing I knew I was lying in the Emergency room in my pink, fluffy, panther onesie (well Lesleys onesie, but it wants to be mine)! I could see on the sphyg that my blood pressure was 250/110 , geezo I thought, didn’t know numbers went that high on these machines! Digital age eh? A lovely, lovely young 1st year resident doctor boy child, who had really just gone into third year at school surely, gave me an IV of morphine and valium that buzzed and whooshed it’s lovely, lovely LOVELY way to my limbs and head within one single minute. Onsie on, hands behind my head, laying back, sun shinning outside and right onto my little stretcher bed, life felt pretty good for about 20 minutes, for the first time in too long to remember. Lesley even managed to get an unexpected day off as ‘’carer'’ to her friend, ‘’NO SHE DOESN’T HAVE ANYONE ELSE TO GO WITH HER, IT’S ME, ONLY ME!!!’’, I heard her scream to her boss down the phone as I was wheeled passed by the paramedics to the ambulance! By the way, when you hear the mee maw mee maw of an ambulance in the distance, and you know it's coming for you, it's the freakiest shit! That was a first for me, it wasn't on my bucket list, but still, it was a first which is always a positive. But I’m lying there, in the emergency room, thinking, in my comfy onesie, where will we go for lunch I wonder. See Mr. Jinx? I really don’t care most of the time, you’re wasting all your good tricks on me really! Things don’t freak me out that much, I’ve pretty much done that seen most of it before so nope, the whole chest pain, ambulance (sorry to tell you but I actually loved the ambulance ride, I was so pleased as I’ve never ridden in one before and always wanted to see the inside), the whole taken to hospital thing was nothing really. I’ve been in more hospitals as a nurse AND as a patient than Mr. Jinxy’s had hot dinners, so he’ll need to try harder. All well, and by the next day I’m lying in Lesleys bright yellow bikini lapping up the ‘’normal’’ sun you get out of Dubai in her garden. A couple of days up North will sort me, get out of the city! So off I go…

No stress, no worries, no pain, no work, no editing, no clients, no husband and no kids…nothing! (all references are not in order of importance!) I felt quite chirpy on my drive up! I was awwwwing and ooooohhhing in all the right places at the beautiful scenery, window open, sun on my face, music on, out the car a couple of times to take pics, all well - not even getting upset that there was road works and I was jammed for an hour, nothing was a bother. I could smell Loch Lomand…I was a bit euphoric actually! The last 2 hours of the 4 hour journey, my euphoria was taking over by pain in my ankles. I was finding it difficult to use the gas and clutch pedals continuously for 4 hours because of my RA and my ankles and shins were complaining! By the time I swung round that bend that takes you into Oban, and that view that catches your breath from the top of your hill, wee fishing village, typically Scottish with it’s white houses and flowered gardens, it wasn't the view that was catching my breath... it was the agony of my ankles!! I found a place to stay pretty quickly and when I took my socks off in my room, it confirmed my suspicion. Red balloon legs and feet! I thought I’ll go have a shower, get the journey off my skin, take my meds and get into bed. On my drive up, I had stopped at a garage for petrol and also bought some cute little pink lady shaving razors, quite exited me, since I’d been here a week and had about 2 weeks of gorilla legs! So shower and a de fuzzing was waiting. When I get these flares, I get hundreds of little red, what look to me like blood blisters, on my skin wherever the flare is happening, in this instance, the legs. They disappear after the flare goes. You can probably guess what happened next! I’m drying myself outside the shower, in the guest houses fluffy, big, white bath towel and I notice my legs (and big fluffy white towel) were covered in blood! I’ve only gone and forgot about my little red occasional guests and shaved all their heads off!!! Blood!? Whatever they are, these blistery things, they are connected to a direct internal blood vessel system for sure, because they would…not….stop…BLEEDING! I get myself plugged up with around 100 wee bits of toilet paper stuck to my legs to stop the bleeding. You know, like the kind you see on mens faces after they’ve shaved sometimes? Well, same as them, but only 98 more! I was not gonna be stopped, onwards with my me time, I’m going out for fish and chips!!!!!

Fish and chips didn't prove to be such a good idea either as it turned out. Spotted a lovely wee bench, right on the sea front, all to myself with a view of little old fishing boats and the cry of seagulls, perfect. I'm eating away (great fish and chips I have to say) and I make the first fatal mistake of throwing a bit of fish out on the pebbled shore for the gulls. There's an instant swarm (or should I say flock) of seagulls, screaming and fighting over this piece of fish. Once it was eaten by the most definite gang master, as he was the size of a dog, he looked over at me and I swear he caught my gaze for at least 10 terrifying seconds. He had found the food source! That was the end of it all. I was dive bombed and swooped upon, well my box of chips, which was sitting on my lap was swooped upon. I tried to swipe them away by shouting a shoo shoo kind of chant noise and trying to act as if a swarm of birds attacking me wasn't bothering me as I was now entertaining the entire pub across the road who were all enjoying the lovely evening outside, all watching and pointing at me! I made a quick decision and threw the box down and bolted. Well bolted in my hobble kind of way at the moment, which I'm sure entertained the onlookers even more. An old lady passed me and disapprovingly shook her head at me, ''ohhhh you should't have done that!'' she said. I looked around and every seagull that has ever visited, stayed or immigrated to Oban was in the 4 foot space in front of my bench, fighting and squealing, a mass of feathers and beaks. I decided to give up in this particular day and head back to the guest house to watch the football.

At this point in a flare, I would normally sigh and think well that’s the next 4-5 days gone then. Cancel clients, prepare myself to be horizontal for at least a few days, and not in the horizontal good way, and generally prepare to disappear till it was over (except Facebook of course) Nope, I was there to de stress, me time, that’s what I was told I needed, some ME time, so I wasn’t going to let a flare get in my way. Cutting a very long story short, not a good move, going out, even for fish and chips and seagull gladiator games, didn't improve my flare. To cut another long story short I hobbled my way up to the doctors surgery first thing in the morning, hoping they would take me before three weeks on Wednesday and perchance even today? My luck was in. Jinx was teasing me. Half an hour later I’m having a 4 inch needle of cortisone injected into my ankles and sent away with a 5 days supply of steroids, bliss! I hobbled back to my guest house at twice the speed of the first time. Still slower than the 80 year old couple I was chatting with along the way, but still, it was progress. I hobble past my guest house and head for the car park as my ticket expired one hour before. Is there any point on telling you what was on my car? £60 fine! Exceeding the paid amount of time parked. No, no i don’t care I tell myself, my flare feels so much better, I might even be able to drive tomorrow and leave, not getting upset, it's only money (shit) and I feel better which is more important. I go to the machine and pay enough to last till 9am the next morning. I sit in the passenger seat, door open and write the nice traffic warden person a note. I say, please don’t give me another ticket if i don’t manage down before 9am. The doctor at the surgery can confirm I’m not able to walk well at the moment due to an illness, here is my phone number, I am staying at a guest home 5 minutes away. Nice note. Should do the trick. I stick the note to the inside of the passenger window and a gust of wind blows the newly bought ticket out of my hand. I tried to grab it but landed on my knees from the car door. Kneeling on all fours, head bend back watching the ticket swirl around in the wind was the first time I thought, it really is getting to be a bit much this jinx business! I don’t have anymore change. I have a £5 note. I head off down the street to find a shop to get change. I pass a young mother sitting in her garden bench on her ipad, trying to ignore the constant moaning and screaming of her three small children playing around her. I really felt sad thinking how she’ll regret that when they leave home, and wished she had spent every second looking at their wee faces instead of an iPad. Then I realise I sound like an old granny and stopped that train of thought. First shop I pass is Farm Foods (a frozen food store) and I decide an ice lolly would be just the thing. Of course it’s a whole sale, bulk buying freezer place, so I can’t buy ONE ice lolly. I buy a box of 6 and give 5 to the woman on the bench for her kids as I pass her again. Kids are delighted!

New ticket on the car, the note is there too, I’m back in my room, legs elevated, medicated up, just watched the Italy game (world cup) and wondering what tomorrow will bring.

Start of a new week, my second week in Scotland starts tomorrow.

But all said and done, I must ask the new tenants in Rome if they threw away the dish of frozen water in the freezer with the two frozen names written on pieces of paper in it? I don’t think I told them about it and explained what it was. I told the last renters and I know it was there last summer coz I saw it, so they hadn’t touched it in 3 years. I think the new renters have thrown it away. Those two names I had in the freezer will have escaped! My spell will be broken. They will have put their jinx back on me… I’m sure of it! Although that wouldn’t explain all the jinx’s when they were in the freezer these past three years now would it? Hmmmm I don’t think this white witch spell works actually now that I think about it.

My phone has just broken, screens just gone black. I can still hear it ring or sms’s come in, but I can’t reply or answer as it’s just black. Shame I sold that new phone last week. :(

The end

0 notes

houseofvans · 7 years

Photo

SKETCHY BEHAVIORS | Jennifer Parks (Portland, OR)

We’ve been following the magical and mystical artwork of Portland artist Jennifer Parks whose drawings of witches, women, and woodland creatures bring a dark delight to our sensibilities. Not only does Jennifer create these fantastical illustrations and ceramics, but also helps to curate and organize shows at the artist run space, Pony Club in Portland. We’re excited to feature Jennifer’s art and talk to her about her influences, artistic process, and find out more what she’s up too in the rest of 2017!

Artist portrait by Richard Darbonne | Images courtesy of the artist

Who are you and what do you do?

My name is Jennifer Parks and I make drawings and ceramic things. I’m also a gallery owner, cat mama, part-time bartender, and believer of ghosts and magic.

When did you first come across art or find yourself making stuff? What it something your parents encouraged or were you always a doodler type of person?

I was always a doodler. I started drawing as soon as I could pick up a crayon. I think pre-school was when I realized I was sort of good at it and started to get encouragement from my parents and other adults.

Did you go to art school or take classes for illustration? What’s your art background?

I took art classes in high school, and junior college and that led me to the Pacific Northwest College of Art here in Portland. I majored in illustration with a focus on storytelling.

Your artwork has a distinct flavor to it that we love–not only is it filled with fauna, nature, but a female character often surrounded by magical and mystical elements. Can you tell us a little bit about how your illustration and artwork reached this point?

It was a natural evolution I think. I learned to draw girls by drawing my mother’s porcelain doll collection. She had a lot of these dolls which were pretty but also kind of creepy. They all had on fancy victorian dresses with lace and floral patterns. I think that led to my interest in old black and white victorian photos which then led to my interest that dark era of witchcraft, seances, and ghosts.

Ive always had a fascination with death and the idea that its not the end, so it just felt natural to start adding those elements to my drawings. Plus, at some point I got tired of people telling me my drawings were “pretty’ and “cute”. Adding some dark and mysterious elements to them made me feel more comfortable.

When I moved to the Pacific Northwest about 13 years ago, which is just surrounded by lush wilderness, I started including those elements as well. I think its hard to live here and not be inspired by our surroundings. They are pretty magical.

What inspires the imagery and symbolism that we find throughout your illustrations?

I am totally fascinated by death, the afterlife, and anything supernatural. Ghosts, aliens, magic, etc. I think there are so many things around us that we can’t see and I like to include some of that magic and mystery in my drawings. The world is kind of boring without them.

We’re always curious about an artists’ process. What’s your process like? Sketchbook, night owl, or scheduled drawing time?

I’m such a night owl. Its sad really. My best drawing hours are somewhere between 8pm and 3am. I will sit at a desk all day with coffee, listening to podcasts, trying to draw, but I really don’t get started until the sun goes down.

What’s a medium you’ve yet to try and want to start dabbling in? Any specific reasons?

I really want to learn how to do intaglio or lithography. I love printmaking and how involved the process can be. Intaglio has been around since the mid 1400’s and lithography since the late 1700’s… It would be amazing to learn such an old process.

Not only do you make some amazing illustrations and murals, but your ceramic pieces are insanely cool and rad. Tells us a little about how you got into ceramics? What do you love about that medium that maybe you can’t achieve or don’t necessarily get from illustration?

I had been collecting these vintage plates and painting faces and designs into them for awhile. It was a lot of fun, but I wanted to take it to the next level and actually make the plate as well. So I decided to take a ceramics course at my local community college. I immediately fell in love with it. I had dabbled in clay before but nothing felt like ceramic clay. Its so soft and easy to work with. I took a morning class because it was the only thing that worked with my schedule and even though its so hard for me to be awake and functioning that early I found it very calming and therapeutic. Now I have my own kiln. If I don’t feel like focusing on drawing, I will just grab my clay, make some shapes, and carve into them. I don’t have to think too hard about the imagery. Thats one of my favorite things about it. I feel like I can zone out and just carve anything into them and it looks cool. Working with ceramics has taught me to be less uptight and less attached to my work. Im clumsy and break so many pieces after hours of working on them. All I can do is shrug it off and start over.

What’s your studio or creative space like? What would we find in there–what do you keep around for inspiration or do you keep it minimal?

My studio space is pretty cluttered with things. I have so many art supplies, frames, paper, old drawings, prints, etc. I have a big drawing table and a big ceramic table. I have lots of art up for inspiration, some plants, and of course a few cats running around.

Does music play a role in your artistic process? Does it inspire you or is it more of something that keeps you company while you work? Can you share with us what your top 5 songs/bands that you are currently into?

I do listen to music while I work, but honestly not very often. I find music very intense and very distracting when Im trying to focus. Im better off having a documentary of some sort playing in the background while I draw.

You also run a gallery space called Pony Club where you support and show artists! How did this idea come about for Pony Club and when did you start it and how has that evolved? What’s been the most challenging part of running a space? What’s been the best part of it?

I got lucky enough to be invited to join the gallery in 2009. Its a collective of 6 artists that work out of the space, curate shows, and help run the shop. It started off as a gallery run by a group of cartoonists who catered heavily to that scene. It hasn’t changed too much, except that the members are different and we began to focus more on illustration.

I would say the most challenging part is trying to run/manage a small group of artists. We all have our own careers and ideas that we are trying to focus on. It can be challenging to find the time focus on the space, promoting other artists, and taking care of other business-related responsibilities.

The most rewarding part is being able to provide a venue for young new illustrators, printmakers, and cartoonists.

Who are your top 5 favorite artists (past or contemporary?) that folks should check out.

Right now Ive been drooling over works by Alex Kuno, Andrea Wan, Tran Nguyen, Saddo, and Bill Crisafi.

Lots of times artists aren’t just one thing, what do you do when you’re not making art or helping out at Pony Club? How do you spend your free time?

Im usually practicing witchcraft or hanging out in the forest.

If folks wanted to follow in your footsteps, what advice or what would you tell folks?

Make sure your in love with what you do, and that your not doing it for the wrong reasons. If your stuck in a rut, go outside to find some inspiration or try a new medium.

Never stop creating.

Tell us about the art community in Portland? Seems like a tight community of talented folks. Who are some of your local favorites?

The art community is pretty amazing here. It feels like we are all part of this very supportive, very talented and caring family. It can be a little overwhelming to have so many awesome artists around you, but it helps to keep you motivated and doing your best.

Some of my favorite local artists are Mark Rogers, Christina Mrozik, Lauren Gonsalves, Martin Ontiveros and Susannah Kelly.

What’s are your favorite Vans? How would you describe your personal style?

My favorite vans are the old school retro looking hi-tops. I wear a lot of black. My style is somewhere between artsy, witchy, and lazy.

What’s your favorite art secret that you’d like to share with folks?

Its not really a secret but artists are really magicians.

What’s coming up for you in the rest of the 2017 year that folks should stay tuned in for?

I will be painting a mural in August with my awesome buddy Meg Adamson for the Forest For The Trees Mural Fest. And hopefully, I will also be learning to tattoo!

Follow Jennifer Parks Website: www.spectralgardens.com Instagram: @spectralgardens

#Art #Vans #vans art #vans girls #Sketchy Behavior #jennifer parks

134 notes · View notes

brunchbitch · 7 years

Note

What was chrysalis like? Also what did the staff at 3 east say about your treatment at IV? That must've been so traumatic and probably made recovery so much harder. I can't even imagine already struggling with shame/guilt, being bullied, being let down by people who you should've been able to trust and then being put in that environment where all those things were reinforced x1000. That sounds like literally the worst place you could've been. Did your parents try and sue?

Chrysalis was a little better than IV but not by much. It was a therapeutic boarding school in Eureka, MT with around 32 adolescent girls. There were two main houses (”Lake House” and “Horse House”) and two step-down cabins (I never got to that point though). I remember cleaning A LOT (similar to IV) - we had weekly chores that took hours on top of general cleaning every day, and “punishment” cleaning like using a toothpick to clean out the grooves of the wood floor, which was so pointless and stupid. They operated on a level system as well - there were three levels and each one was a pretty big deal. I remember being OVERJOYED when I got level two but I never got to level three. Girls would stay 1-2 years, depending, although I think one girl who I was friends with was there for 3 years but she had a really bad home situation and I think they wanted to get her through high school there. There was a therapeutic school on campus, but after spending at least one semester there and being on level 2, you had the option of going to the local public high school. So I started there in August, did the first semester on campus, then did the second semester at the public school. My therapist said I was “a piece of cake” compared to most other girls there bc of how much IV had beat me into shape lol.

We had this group called “Circle” I think three times a week where everyone sat in a huge circle and confronted each other. To show you how much I flew under the radar, in a year I was only confronted once and it was like the kindest confrontation ever - I had been running a lot and had a ton of pain in my back so one of my friends Catherine said I needed to take care of myself and be willing to go to my doctor when I went home on pass. But I remember my blood turning to ice when she said my name in front of everyone. I cannot even tell you how terrifying and traumatic some aspects of those programs are. What I did really like about Chrysalis was that we got to do a lot more than at IV - we would bike or run every morning (if the weather was nice) and would go on camping trips a couple times a month. I went on a 70-mile bike trip through southern Canada and northern Montana that was absolutely incredible (although I only did probably about 40% of the trip bc my back was so bad so I rode in the van the rest of the way). I had a therapist that I really liked at the time but there were some weird things looking back - Mary and Kenny were the married couple who owned/operated Chrysalis and they majorly played favorites - I was relieved that I was one of them. I don’t really know how a girl got to be one of their favorites, but they would be defended by M and K, would have extra sessions with M, M and K were always hugging them, some girls even sat in their laps and they played with the girl’s hair which I found super weird. We had to journal at least a page every day and leave them open on our beds in the morning for staff to check. Our therapists would collect our journals once a week and read through all the entries, then write a long response in it (which I liked) and my therapist would sign it with a heart and “I love you” but only after I had been there a while. He also self-disclosed something pretty big (he had tried to kill himself over a break-up and slit his wrists, which he showed me the scars from) in our last session. When my parents found out about those things, they were really unhappy and felt really uncomfortable. It’s kind of hard to explain but it was kind of lovey-dovey in a way that was a relief from IV so I soaked it up. But looking back a lot of it was unethical and weird.

Gillian was upset by the things IV told me and convinced me of and it took a lot of work for me to consider other options. I think relating to my treatment now, it really fed into my avoidance of looking at issues - I would talk about something I’m ashamed of and would immediately say “and I’m a terrible person and manipulative and an attention-seeker” to “own up” to the blame, but then that prevented me from looking at what it says about me, what I learned from it, etc. I think for a very sensitive, self-blaming, suicidal adolescent, it was incredibly damaging. I never thought about how it fit into not being able to trust people I should’ve… wow that’s really interesting. But yes, it totally fit into that schema. And my therapist at IV was particularly terrible bc she was young and motherly and sweet sometimes, but then she would turn around and be really awful. I shared something with her that I hadn’t told anyone and she handled it terribly and made me feel like I was the most horrible person in the history of the world. I think she was the first sort of authority figure that I became really attached to and so dependent upon and sensitive to her every action. No, my parents didn’t sue. Surprisingly, compared to other people who were there, my experience wasn’t super traumatic. I was never physically restrained or neglected like some others, so I don’t know if our case would’ve held up in court.

I’m not sure if you sent the other question about whether other people at 3East had been to similarly traumatic programs but I’m just going to answer that here too - as far as I remember, I think I was the only one that had been to such a terrible program, but there were a loootttt of girls in the program throughout the year and a half that I was there and I’m sure at least a portion of them had been through the “troubled teen” industry. I know one other girl at the GR was at Provo in Utah when she was young and it was just as terrible as IV if not worse. It was so validating to talk to her about it.

#chrysalis boarding school #troubled teen industry #personal #anonymous #answered #islandview #island view residential treatment center #chrysalis #g #3east

2 notes · View notes

radioactivedelorean · 7 years

Text

Human Sample #8

<<First | <<Previous | Next>>

Chapter 8: Healing

Ford was woken to the sound of snoring in his ear. Wrenching his eyes open, he turned his head towards the source of the noise and smirked. Rick was passed out beside him, sprawled over the bed. His mouth hung open slightly, a small damp patch of drool by his lips. Ford shook his head Looking around the room and deciding it was still too early for any nurses to disturb him, he lifted his right arm up and laid it over the scientist’s shoulders gently.

Rick grunted in his sleep and shifted slightly, almost moving closer to Ford. Ford smiled and rubbed his thumb over Rick's shoulder gently. The rhythmic movements were therapeutic. The texture of Rick’s shirt underneath his hand was rough and slightly gritty. Ford pulled his hand away and rubbed his thumb and first middle finger together. Small pieces of dry dirt fell from his hand onto the white bedsheets. The man rolled his eyes and put his arm back around Rick’s shoulders. He really needed to get the scientist to do some damn laundry at some point.

Rick started to come to five minutes later. He yawned loudly and sat up, Ford’s arm falling from around his shoulders. He stretched his arms upwards and leaned backwards, his spine clicking and popping. Ford winced. “I told you not to sleep here.”

Rick looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Good morning to you too.” He looked at Ford’s arm. “What were you doing?”

Ford coughed and avoided eye contact. “Nothing. There was a bug on your shoulder.”

Rick’s expression didn’t change. “Sure. Anyway, how are you feeling?”

“Still pretty sick.” Ford shrugged. “I’m not sure the side-effects of the morphine have worn off yet. I’m starving, as well.”

Rick got to his feet. “I’ll see if I can’t get the nurses to give you something. Be right back.”

Before Ford could say anything else, Rick was already out in the hall. The scientist walked up to the nurses’ desk and leant against it casually. One of the nurses, a dark-skinned man with black hair, looked up at him. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, Ford Pines wanted to know if he could have anything to eat.” Rick said casually, scratching his arm. “He just woke up.”

The nurse checked through the documentation about Ford on the desk in front of him. “It can’t be any solid food, I’m afraid. He is likely to get an upset stomach eating solid foods so soon after surgery, but I can get him some soup.”

“That’ll do,” Rick shrugged and nodded. The nurse got up from the desk and headed off down the hall. Rick turned around and went back to Ford’s room.

Ford looked up as Rick entered. “So?”

“The nurse said you can’t have any solid food,” Rick sat back down in the chair. “It’s likely to give you an upset stomach so soon after your surgery. He’s gonna get you some soup,”

Ford sighed. “It’s better than nothing, I suppose.” He said flatly. “Guess I don’t have much choice unless I want to throw up all over the bed.”

Rick pulled a face. “Yeah, I’d stick to the soup, at least for a few days. Trust me, being bathed by hospital staff is something you want to avoid at all costs.”

Ford cringed. “That seems like the sort of thing that’s going to happen, considering I can barely sit up straight without my side hurting.”

Rick chuckled. “You have fun with that. You’d better just hope that it’s a guy washing you down.”

It was Ford’s turn to pull a face. At that moment, the nurse from earlier walked in, holding a bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. He set both items down on Ford’s side table. “I’m just going to help you sit upright, okay?”

Ford nodded and lifted his head up slightly. The nurse adjusted the tilt of the bed carefully, lifting Ford into a more upright position. He slipped another pillow behind Ford’s back to keep him supported. “Give me a shout when you’ve finished,” the nurse said, passing Ford the bowl and the spoon. He took Ford’s oxygen mask off and left Ford to eat in peace.

Ford stirred the mixture in the bowl, giving it a wary look. If he knew anything about hospitals, it was that hospital food was quite often terrible. Rick seemed to be having the same thought. “That looks like something they just took out of a swamp. I mean I knew hospital food was shit but this is taking the piss.”

Ford scooped up a little of the liquid with the spoon and placed the spoon gently into his mouth. It was slightly cooler than boiling, but it was still pretty hot. From what Ford could tell, it was leek and potato soup. It was actually rather nice. He took another few spoonfuls.

Rick feigned gagging. “Urrgch, that stuff was probably made weeks ago and just reheated.”

“It’s not that bad,” Ford shrugged. “Maybe it’s just my hunger talking, but I like it.”

“You must really be starving.” Rick smirked. “I’m not surprised, though. They had to pump your stomach before they could operate on you, since there was alcohol in your system and you also might have been sick under the anaesthetic.”

“Don’t put me off my food.” Ford shot him a look, still shoveling soup into his mouth.

Rick snorted and leaned back in the chair. His hand twitched, his instinct telling him to reach for the flask in his pocket. He curled his hand up and gripped his trouser leg, though. He wasn’t going to drink. He couldn’t, not with the state Ford was in. The argument yesterday had made him think. Here Ford was, recovering from a brush with death and Rick still thought a solution to his problem was to drink. He’d been doing it for so many years now that it was his go-to reaction to anything. Heck, the night he’d left his wife, pregnant with their first - and only - child, he’d just kept drinking until he passed out in an alleyway and woke up the next morning soaked with rain and a killer hangover. Since then, his alcohol problem had been just as bad. He’d managed to convince himself that alcohol solves everything. But alcohol was what got Ford into this state in the first place.

Ford soon finished the soup and put the bowl and spoon back on the nightstand. He noticed the slightly vacant expression on Rick’s face. “Rick?” He asked quietly, frowning. “Are you okay?”

Rick whispered something inaudible, turning his head away. His hands were shaking.

Ford couldn’t hear him. “What?”

“...It’s my fault…”

Ford’s gaze softened. “What…? What’s your fault?”

“This!” Rick gestured to the hospital bed, monitors and Ford himself. “All of this is my fault. I took you to that stupid bar. I basically made you drink. Maybe if you hadn’t had that pint, you wouldn’t have bumped into that guy and you wouldn’t have been stabbed.” Rick was shaking, his face buried in his hands. He choked back sobs “This is all my fucking fault. You nearly died and it’s all my fault!”

“Rick!” Ford snapped. “Stop it! This is not your fault!”

“Give me one fucking reason why it isn’t!” Rick snapped back, teeth clenched and furiously wiping the tears out of his eyes. Why did he have to be so weak?

“Because I’m the one who let myself get inebriated, even just a little. I couldn’t focus enough and I bumped into that guy because I was too much of a damn coward to refuse an alcoholic drink.” Ford replied. “I was afraid of getting drunk and embarrassing myself, but even more afraid of looking like a damn coward.”

“Ford,” Rick sighed. “You’re not a coward for not drinking, you’re the opposite. I’m a damn coward for drowning my mind in booze every time I have to face any actual problems. I drink because I’m too weak to deal with my own problems. Hell, I let myself drink more than usual while you were still unconscious because I didn’t like the things I was feeling. I was too damn worried about you and I didn’t like it, so I drank. You shouldn’t have to think that I’d think any less of you for having lemonade instead of booze. Drinking just makes everything worse.”

Ford frowned. “Rick, listen to me. I’ll help you through this, okay? But you have to agree to let me help. I can’t help you if you won’t let me. Promise you'll let me help?”

Rick took a deep breath, steadying his shaking hands. “Okay… okay… I’ll let you help me. I promise.”

Ford held Rick’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you.”

Rick looked up at him and smiled. Not smirked, genuinely smiled. He noticed Ford had a little drop of soup still on his face and leant forward to wipe it off. “Here, you’ve got something on your face.”

Ford lifted his hand to wipe his mouth, but felt Rick’s sleeve on his face before he could do it himself. He could barely smell any alcohol on Rick’s breath, now, clearly indicating that the scientist hadn’t had a drink in a good few hours. As Rick moved to lean away, Ford quickly wrapped his arms around him. Rick was startled for a moment, unused to the contact, before he hesitantly wrapped his arms around Ford in return, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You haven’t been drinking again,” Ford said quietly into Rick’s shoulder. “The smell isn’t as strong any more.”

Rick laid his chin on top of Ford’s head. “I stopped after that argument. I just couldn’t bring myself to worry you like that again.”

“Thank you,” Ford pulled away, looking Rick in the eyes. “Thank you,”

Rick smiled again. Ford returned the gesture, giving a quick laugh and looking away, putting his arms back by his sides. He felt himself blush, his cheeks getting warmer. Rick kept his around Ford, biting his lip. He fixed his gaze on a point on the wall just above Ford’s head. He realised quickly that he still had his arms around Ford’s shoulders and moved them away. He didn’t get off the bed, though. It was far more comfortable than the plastic chair he’d been sleeping/sitting in for the last few days.

Eventually Rick snapped himself out of it and got off the bed, sitting back in the plastic chair. He looked up at the IV bag of morphine Ford was still hooked up to. It was pretty much empty by now. “The morphine’s empty, I’d better tell the nurse. You’ll be in a heck of a lot of pain if it isn’t refilled.”

“‘Kay,” Ford nodded as Rick got up from the chair and left the room. Ford watched him leave, sighing quietly to himself. There was something about Rick that was just… fascinating. He was so cocky, so confident, yet underneath his careless outer shell was someone who, at the end of the day, actually cared about someone other than himself. And that someone was Ford. The scientist had taken him under his wing and treated him like family, even though they’d only known each other properly for a little under two weeks.

Ford looked towards the door as he heard Rick come back, unaccompanied and holding a fresh IV bag of morphine. “That was quick. Where’s the nurse?”

“He said I could do it, since it doesn’t take a genius to change an IV drip,” Rick replied. “A genius is going to change it anyway,”

Ford snorted. “Nothing like modesty,”

Rick shrugged and stood beside the bed. He put the morphine down on the nightstand before he carefully unscrewed the tube from the cannula in Ford’s hand. He took the empty IV down from the stand and threaded the tube of the new one through the monitor attached to the stand. He hooked the bag up and attached the end of the tube to Ford’s cannula. He pressed a couple of buttons on the monitor on the IV stand. The machine beeped twice before giving out a gentle hum. “There we go. At least you won’t feel any pain,”

“Thanks,” Ford grinned. Rick gave him a grin and laid back casually in the chair. “I take it you haven’t made any more progress with the ship in the few days I was out of it?”

“Well if I spent the whole time sitting in this chair, then no,” Rick replied. “It’s still in the state we left it before we went to the bar - engine complete, the rest of it in bits.”

“At least we got somewhere with it,” Ford said. “Better than nothing. I’ll be out of here soon, anyway. We can finish it then.”

“Oh no, Pines.” Rick put his hands up. “You’re resting until you’re better. I’m not having you rip your stitches open trying to lift heavy machine parts or accidently overexerting yourself doing work on the ship. Your health is more important.”

Ford was grinning again. His leg twinged with discomfort and his smile dropped. He had horrible pins and needles from lying down for so long. His legs were aching. He lifted his legs up slowly, bending his knees slightly. He moved his ankles around before putting his legs back down.

“Let me guess, you’re sick of lying down?” Rick raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, my legs feel really numb. Reckon you could ask the nurse when I can get out of bed at least?”

“Yeah, one sec,” Rick got up and left the room again. He came back a minute later with a nurse. She had shoulder-length mousy-brown hair and was about the same height as Rick. “You can get out of bed, if you want, but you’ll need support.”

“I’ll help him up,” Rick said almost instantly. The nurse nodded and started unhooking the electrodes of the heart rate monitor from Ford's chest. Once Ford had been detached from the monitor, Rick slipped an arm under Ford's back and helped him sit upright. Ford pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He only now realised he was wearing a pale blue hospital gown and plain white boxers.

“Just be careful not to strain your stitches too much, otherwise they’ll tear.” The nurse reminded him. She came to the conclusion that Rick was more than capable of helping Ford in and out of bed, so she left the room. “Give me a shout if you have any problems.”

“Will do,” Rick nodded. He pulled Ford’s arm around his shoulders and lifted him up carefully.

Ford’s legs shook beneath him and he stumbled forward. It felt as though he was walking with prosthetics - he couldn’t feel his legs. Rick kept a steady hand on his shoulder to stop him falling. Ford had a death grip on Rick’s arm. Gradually, the circulation returned to Ford’s legs and he was able to move them again. He drew a circle in the air with his left foot.

“You okay?” Rick took Ford’s arm off his shoulder. “Reckon you can walk now?” He pulled the IV stand closer so the morphine wouldn’t be pulled out of the cannula in Ford’s hand.

“Yeah,” Ford nodded, clutching the bar at the end of the bed. He took a careful step forward, breathing slowly. Rick moved the IV stand around, keeping it close to Ford. Ford took hold of the stand and walked forwards. His legs gradually grew stronger and his steps became more confident.

Rick leant against the wall with his arms crossed, grinning. “Not bad, Pines,”

Ford rolled his eyes and walked towards the door. “You coming?”

“Yeah, why not?” Rick pushed himself off the wall and followed Ford out of the room. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on you to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

Ford turned left down the hall, stepping carefully and pulling the IV stand along beside him. It felt good to be back on his feet again. He hated being inactive. Rick walked slowly beside him. The scientist gave him a quick grin and a thumbs-up, which Ford returned. The pair walked to the end of the corridor, turned around and walked back again. By this time, Ford was out of breath and exhausted. “Tired already, Fordsy?” Rick raised an eyebrow. “That was quick.”

“I’m… I’m still healing,” Ford panted, sitting back down on his hospital bed. “Not to mention I’m likely still suffering from anaemia due to blood loss, so it’s really hard doing simple things like walking.”

“Well you’d better get more rest, then.” Rick said, helping Ford back into the bed. “Not necessarily sleep, just lie still.”

Ford obeyed, lying back down and tugging the bed sheet up over his chest. “Hey, Rick?”

“Yeah?” Rick looked at him as he sat back down in the chair.

“Thank you. For everything.” Ford smiled.

Rick shrugged. “I haven’t got many better things to do, but you’re welcome,” he grinned.

Ford felt fatigue begin to pull him under again. He fought to keep his eyes open. The simple task of walking to the end of the hall and back had drained what little energy he had had left.

Rick noticed him struggling. “Get some sleep, Ford. Don’t mind me. I’ll be here when you wake up, anyway.”

Ford nodded and let his eyes fall shut. He listened to the sounds around him: the quiet hum of the equipment throughout the hospital, the chatter of nurses and patients in other rooms in the ward, the gentle, rhythmic puffs of Rick’s breathing. He let himself relax, unconsciousness taking him once again.

Rick looked at Ford, noticing the man had already drifted off to sleep again. He figured it would be a good few hours until Ford woke up again, so he pulled a small device out of his pocket and started fiddling with it to keep himself occupied. He eventually found himself yawning, too, despite not having done anything tiresome recently. He settled down in the chair and let himself pass out, his hand slipping off his lap and hanging limply by his side, the device falling to the floor with a quiet thud.

-------

Was once originally based off the bonus bit of this post by the amazing and greatly talented @looloolalalol

Story on AO3 here

#still very gay #so many gay #send help #stanford pines #ford pines #gravity falls #rick and morty #rick sanchez #rickford #human sample

23 notes · View notes

andyangus · 4 years

Text

Tuesday 9th March

3 p.m. I’ve lost a day of my life that I’ll never get back. It started poorly yesterday when I arrived at the café with a pulsing, aching jaw. I’d found that my little pharmacy of analgesia had been gorged on by the ‘pill daemon’. I headed to my shift on 400mg of ibuprofen only, which did nothing.

By 5 p.m., the dinner rush was about to start, and I was about to end it all. My lower mandible felt like it would explode at any second. I wanted to be fit for my 4x4 Guy, so I quickly asked Sally if she had anything remotely therapeutic. After popping two of her pills, my pain subsided instantly.

The walk up Broughton Street was the most holographic I’ve ever experienced. Technicolour to the extreme. It was as if I’d just landed in Oz, with dancing and singing munchkins all around me and a rainbow guiding me home. However, I did feel the most confident and aroused I’ve ever been my entire life, so I decided to hurry my evening along but stripping naked as I entered the main stair. I slightly remember passing someone on my way up.

By the time my 4x4 Guy arrived, my feet were mushing ankle-deep into the hall carpet as I thrust him towards the bedroom. The sex, from what I can remember, was messy and very verbal. I remember saying the most disgusting things to him and riding him practically to the speed of the Benny Hill theme. In fact, in my head, it was playing at full blast. My willy chased his prostate around every inch of his colon. No nook or cranny was left un-probed. I remember laughing like a madman on twenty cans of Red Bull when he asked, ‘Wow, what’s happened to the shy boy I found at the side of the road months ago?’

When it came to the point of ejaculation, I passed out.

I woke this morning on a trolley in the Admissions Unit of the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary in nothing more than my Aussie Bums, an IV line and an NHS blanket. A nurse, who was tending to an elderly lady with some facial injuries in the next bed, saw me stirring and quickly checked my observations.

He said, ‘Careful, you have fluids plumbed in. What were you on?’

I told him, ‘Nothing intentional, but I have my suspicions I’ve been spiked by an irresponsible pole dancing waitress.’ I laid my head gingerly on the crisp pillow and felt the toothache bite once more. A temporary reprieve only. ‘How did I get here?’

‘Your friend, a tall man with grey hair, he brought you in and stayed with you for a few hours. He left late last night as he had to get back to his wife.’

Wife? Was I still hallucinating? I hoped so. I’m no better than Thomas if this is the case. Maybe the nurse misheard him. Perhaps he said, ‘I have to get back to Fife.’ Yes, that’s probably more likely as I don’t know where he’s from.

When I got back to my digs, Tony asked me who the man was that carried me drunkenly down the stairs yesterday evening as they arrived home. Apparently, I was singing You Are Sixteen Going On Seventeen at the top of my voice.

I was too frazzled to create an excuse. ‘A fuck-buddy, Tony. Who else?’

‘But he had a wedding band on. Isn’t that a bit immoral for someone who finished with his ex because he cheated?’

Bloody typical. ‘Thanks for stating the obvious, Inspector Clouseau,’ I mumbled while cupping my jaw with one hand and clutching my forehead with the other. I swung my bedroom door shut in his face.

9.35 p.m. A text from my possibly married knight in shining armour: ‘R u ok??? U were very ill last night!!!’

A little ashamed, I asked if I could explain my erratic behaviour, but really I want to get to the bottom of this wife/Fife nonsense.

He said, as a married man that has to sneak around while having an affair would, ‘I’m pretty tied up at the moment, but I’ll see what I can do.’

0 notes

snoringhq · 5 years

Text

Good Morning Snore Solution Review

Good Morning Snore Solution

Good Morning Snore Solution is a product that I ran across online, but based on appearance alone, I simply was not interested. After a few months, I noticed that it was becoming increasingly popular (See how Good Morning Snore Solution compares to other anti snoring devices HERE). However, at that time, I had already settled on another mouthpiece as being my number one choice. Read our updated SnoreRx review.

Update: From time to time Good Morning Snoring Solution provides us with exclusive coupon codes that we can offer to our audience and subscribers. When the promotions are running they will be posted here.

SAVE 15% Coupon (15% OFF all products) Coupon code: “SNORINGHQ” (copy this code and go here) — No Expiration

Coupon Dates: December 25, 2018 – January 1, 2019 Offer: BOGO – Multi-Pack for the price of a Single Pack. ($30 off Multi-Pack ) Code: BOXBOGO

Get the best deal on Good Morning Snore Solution

A few more months passed, and my wife asked if I had heard about Good Morning Snore Solution. I told her I read about it a long time ago, but I just didn’t add it to my list because it didn’t look like a mouthpiece, so I didn’t see how it would work like one.

We got online together and discovered that Good Morning Snore Solution doesn’t look like an MAD because it’s not one. It is a tongue retaining device (TRD), so it does not even go in your mouth. I still was not convinced, but she wanted to try it, so the phrase “happy wife, happy life” came to mind. I ordered one for both of us that night.

Pros

Design is relatively comfortable to wear because it is soft and doesn’t take up space in your mouth.

GMSS is BPA-free. In case you don’t know, BPA is an acronym for a product known as biphenyl A. It is found in many polycarbonate plastics and epoxy resins, and it is associated with several serious medical conditions. I try to stay away from mouthpieces that contain this chemical in general.

Backed by a money-back guarantee.

It is really easy to clean because the design is so simple.It lasts a really long time. The average lifespan is about a year, but I’ve read people wear their Good Morning Snore Solution considerably longer.

Manufactured by a company accredited by the Better Business Bureau (not always the case in this market).

Device was designed by a dentist.

The United States Food and Drug Administration, Australian Department of Health and Aging, and Canada’s Therapeutic Products Doctorate cleared it.

A new version is now available that is for smaller mouths or young adults. Be sure to read our full review of the Good Morning Snore Solution For Young Adults.

Complaints

The price is higher than some expect to pay (especially after you see the simple design). However, with its long lifespan, it won’t need to be replaced every few months like some do. So if it is a better solution, I think the price still even out over time compared to other options.

Will likely experience tongue soreness the first few days while you get used to it. I’ve read that in some cases the tongue soreness does not go away, so this is probably the biggest risk of you not liking it

Need to be able to breathe through your nose to wear this device.

The device can slip off your tongue in the night. My wife and I have had this issue only on very rare occasions, but I’ve read others complaining about this.

See how Good Morning Snore Solution compares to other snoring mouthpieces HERE.

Good Morning Snore Solution is a TRD

How is Good Morning Snore Solution different?

Unlike other mouthpieces, GMSS is not a mandibular advancement device. MADs sit in your mouth, like a mouth guard you would wear for sports. They hold your jaw in a slightly forward position to keep your airway clear (this is an uncomfortable feeling for most of the products I tried). GMSS is completely different.

Good Morning Snore Solution is actually classified as a tongue retaining device (TRD). So, rather than hold your jaw forward, it works by holding your tongue forward. It basically delivers the same results, but takes a different approach.

GMSS holds the tongue forward

Hold the tongue forward?

GMSS has a suction bulb that attaches to the very tip of your tongue. The rest of the device rests between your inner lips and outer teeth. The concept will likely remind you of a pacifier, but there is only a small bulb that can be seen, when your mouth is closed.

Since the suction keeps your tongue held in a forward position, it can’t collapse back into your throat when you fall asleep. This keeps the airway clear and reduces the risk of soft tissues vibrating against one another to make my infamous snoring sound.

After dealing with a mouthful of plastic for years, this little solution seemed a little too good to be true.

Video Review & Demonstration

youtube

My Personal Experience

I ordered two GMSS devices: one for me and one for my wife. She has tested every mouthpiece with me, and helped me write this Good Morning Snore Solution review. Between the two of us, she is the louder snorer. I’m sure of it! My teenage son tends to disagree, but I’m sure she has bribed him multiple times through the years to say so.

Anyway, when they arrived, I cleaned both devices using Polident denture cleaners sent, so they would be ready for us later. I have to admit, I did play around with it a bit to get the hang of attaching it to my tongue, even though my wife made me swear I would wait for her to get home. Guess she’ll know now, if she reads this!

On the first night, we laughed a lot trying to attach it in place. Not that it is hard to attach by any means, but the simplistic design just had us both a little hysterical. Did we really think this thing was going to work. All you have to do to get it to fit is squeeze the bulb and touch it to the end of your tongue. As you release the bulb it creates suction.

The first thing we both noticed is that it is very comfortable. I immediately loved that there was nothing actually in my mouth taking up space. It felt a little weird attached to my tongue, but definitely not uncomfortable. My first night I thought I may have made the suction a little too tight, but I left it anyway. I figured I would try a looser fit the next night. Although I was saying this was not going to work, in the back of my mind, I was really hoping it would because I was already in love with the design. I didn’t even have drool running down my chin like I usually do when my mouth has to get used to another device. It was effortless to wear.

Initial Reaction: Good sleep – but some growing pains

The next morning, I awoke before my alarm. I was literally wide awake, full of energy, and ready to tackle the day. I’m usually so tired and drained in the morning after a night of heavy snoring, so I knew I had slept well. However, my tongue was pretty sore.

I expected to feel a little soreness while my tongue got used to having something attached to it, but this was sorer than I expected. I should have listened to my instinct and loosened the device a little, but I didn’t. I went online to re-read some other reviews, and saw that a number of people had mentioned a similar soreness issue, especially on the first night as they were getting used to it. I made a mental note to make sure it would be looser on the second night.

I joined my wife in the kitchen, and she had a big smile. She had slept as well as I did. She even said she didn’t hear one peep from me when she went to let the dog out in the middle of the night (we have a senior dog that needs a mid-night bathroom break). She also said that before our son left for his morning track practice, he told her he didn’t hear any snoring from either of us all night. Okay, so we were both ecstatic, but it was only one night. We had been disappointed by mouthpieces in the past that did not maintain their effectiveness.

During the following week I attached it much more loosely. In fact, it was so loose I thought it would probably fall off, but surprisingly, it didn’t. The next morning I awoke after sleeping the whole night through again. My tongue was still sore, but not nearly as sore it was the previous morning. Actually, by the fourth morning, I made it halfway through breakfast before I realized it wasn’t sore at all.

Usually, when we do a trial on a new device, it is for either 7 or 14 days. Our trial never ended with this one – it’s not perfect, but it’s been the best solution for both of us so far.

Who Can Wear Good Morning Snore Solution?

The company’s site says that it can be worn by a wide range of people. Many mouthpieces can’t be worn if you have dental crowns, bridges, or caps (I don’t have these issues). Plus, the design of an MAD makes it impossible to wear with dentures or loose or weak teeth. Since Good Morning Snore Solution isn’t an MAD and does not sit in your mouth, it can be worn in all above mentioned scenarios. For the same reason, you don’t need a prescription, and you don’t need to buy it from your dentist (if they even have it available).

It is also perfect if you simply can’t get used to having a dental appliance in your mouth. Some people just don’t deal with the sensation of a full mouth – it’s a feeling I got used to with other mouthpieces, but certainly never enjoyed. If this sounds like you, then you will probably like the unique design of this tongue retaining device.

Who is Not a Good Candidate?

You have to breathe through your nose to wear Good Morning Snore Solution. So, if you have nasal polyps, a deviated septum, or some type of nose injury that doesn’t permit this then you are probably a better fit for other mouthpieces.

In this case, I would recommend ZQuiet. It was my number one pick for a long time before I started wearing GMSS. Although a traditional mouthpiece, it is super flexible and soft. It has Living Hinge Technology, which provides maximum flexibility. So, you can literally talk and even sip water while wearing it.

I actually still wear my ZQuiet when my allergies are bothering me or if I have a cold. So even if Good Morning Snore Solution ends up being your preferred choice, it would not hurt to have ZQuiet as a backup.

Let’s Talk Price

Good Morning Snore solution costs a little more than some options, but if you buy two the price is in-line with many other products. As of October 25, 2018 Good Morning Snore Solution is $69.94 for a single and $99.94 for a bundle pack. So, if you have another snorer in your home or a friend wants to try it too, you definitely get a better deal buying two. You can even just get both for yourself, so you have a backup. You know, in case the dog steals it off the nightstand to bury in the backyard. Surely these events don’t only take place in my house! Really you’ll only need one though – they are very easy to clean, and it should last a long while (standard time is ~1 year).

Note you’ll also pay extra for shipping – I think around $10 in the US. I think they sell in other countries as well, not sure how shipping cost works there. If you want it expedited, shipping price is around $30.

Update: Get the best deal on Good Morning Snore Solution

Also, Good Morning Snore Solution has a 30-day money-back guarantee. The fact that there’s no risk is one of the reasons I didn’t argue when my wife wanted to try it (and because she’s especially scary after a night of listening to me snore). If you decide it’s not for you then you just have to request a return authorization number. Then, you still have another 15 days to have it back to the company.

Overall, the price is reasonable (if it works for you). There are definitely cheaper anti-snoring mouthpieces available, so if the price doesn’t suit your budget, check out some other options.

Good Morning Snore Solution

4.3 Reviewer

$69.94Price

Effectiveness5

Comfort4.5

Easy to Clean5

Value (Price)3.5

Durability3.5

Easy to Breath4.5

Company Reputation4

Summary

Good Morning Snore Solution is really unique because the design makes it sit outside of your mouth, rather than in your mouth like most anti-snoring mouthpieces. I found it to be very comfortable, easy to clean, and most importantly very effective. As long as you can easily breathe through your nose, Good Morning Snore Solution is a very good option.

Conclusion

If it sounds like I am overly about Good Morning Snore Solution, it is because I truly am. I wanted to hate it simply because I was so sure there was no chance it would work for me. Every day, I’m grateful that my curiosity got the best of me. I know my wife and teenage son feel the same way.

If you are looking for a snoring solution that is comfortable, effective, durable, and safe, I highly recommend Good Morning Snore Solution.

The post Good Morning Snore Solution Review appeared first on Snoring HQ.

0 notes

brightlytae · 6 years

Note

angel, awe, baby, blossom, blush, bright, calm, cozy, cupcake, cute, cutie pie, daylight, dear, doll, dreams, euphoric, fairy, gem, giggles, heart, honey, hunnybunch, kitty, ladybug, love, magic, moonlight, munchkin, paddywack, precious, pretty, prince, princess, pumpkin, rainbow, smitten, snuggle, starlight, soft, toot, treasure, whiffle, whiskers, wiggly, and wispy.

angel: do you have a nickname? people normally just call me P, little P or Paoletta!

awe: How old are you? 21

baby: Fave colour? Purple and blue!

blossom: Favourite book/ movie/ song? book- The Princess Bride, movie- The Goonies, song- (ima stick to bts) Move, Spring day and Baepsae

blush: What was your stuffed animal as a child? I had this teddy bear called angel and I used to take her everywhere with me. I loved her so much seriously she was so soft and i used to buy little outfits for her and everything.

bright: Mermaids or fairies? damnnnnnn like a bitch loves both so much? Ima pick mermaids though just because im so attached to the sea and water in general.

calm: Favourite scent? vanilla!

cozy: eye/hair colour? I have green eyes and ashy blonde hair. Im naturally brunette though.

cupcake: Favourite flower/plant? Lotus flowers, blossoms, cacti, money plants (this is what my famo call them so idk their actual name?)

cute: What did you get on your last birthday? LOTS OF FLOWERS! (i absolutely adore flowers), Jewelry to mark my 21st, money...

cutie pie: Most precious item you own? anything my grandparents have given me. My nonno bought me a vintage typewriter that i keep in my room that i love.

daylight: Favourite album of all time? this is hard. the all time low weightless album is really special to me. The wicked broadway musical soundtrack too. Also the bts Young forever album has a very very special place in my heart.

dear: Zodiac sign? cancer!

doll: How do you like to dress? I wear a lot of jumpers, a lot of oversized clothes, and like loads of culottes- wide flare pants or dungarees. I tend to tuck my jumpers in to high waist jeans (If im wearing jeans they will always be high waist), or skirts. Also long flowy patterned dresses. My wardrobe is pretty made up of long flowy dresses. I also either wear all black or i live in very vibrant patterns- its one or the other! also i wear a lot of rings and earrings like all the time.

dreams: Do you want any tattoos? I want loadsssss of tattoos but just havent had the time to get any done yet!

euphoric: Talk about someone you love? My grandmother is the strongest, bravest most honest woman i have ever met. No one has so much love and care within their heart as this woman does. She is my everything. I go to her for everything and she will always listen to me, look after me and just be there when I need her. she is the type of person who will drop anything just to help someone out. She does so much for the people around her, she helps everyone no matter what. She’s been through so much in her life yet continues to power through and its really just inspirational to me. If i could give her the whole entire world, i would bc she deserves nothing less.

fairy: Do you have a pet? I have a little doggo called rolo and he is just a sweet little old man who makes my heart melt. Honestly hes freaking precious and i dare anyone not to fall in love with him.

gem: who are your favourite tumblrs? I love a lot of bts based tumblrs but i feel sort of bad tagging them in this post coz its super long and im kinda shy ahahah.

giggles: What is your aesthetic of choice? i honestly dont even know? i dont really think i have one...

heart: silk or lace? ooof i think i look better in lace and i own more lace so...

honey: Coffee or tea? being italian living in england im so adjusted to both. Im a cappucino girl but i love tea. Both with milk and either 1 or 2 sugars depending on how im feeling.

hunnybunch: What sounds help you sleep? I actually sleep with earplugs in because i need like complete silence to sleep. The littlest sound and i stay awake!

kitty: Whats your favorite time of the day? I like the morning period from like 8:30-12:00 when i have nothing to do and can just send the time doing things i love!

ladybug: What’s your favorite artist to listen to when you’re sad? when im sad i tend to listen to musicals. Like the Rent soundtrack is a big go to when im upset! musicals just generally evoke a lot of emotion out of me and that tends to make me feel better

love: Whats your favorite season and why? SPRING! (I actually really love all the seasons bc i think theres something relly beautiful about each one) but spring to me just feels bright? the weather starts to change, everything sort of shines, everything gets a bit more colourful and it always feels like a new start for me.

magic: what are five flaws you have?

I worry too much about everything all the time where i cant ever really enjoy myself

I struggle with my confidence a lot and tend to put myself down

I struggle to keep control of my life a lot

I dont think im great at meeting new people and i tend to give off a bad first impression

I overthink so much to the point where i can obsess for days over the tiniest detail.

moonlight:do you prefer soft pastels, warm neutrals, or cool darks? when i think about my wardrobe its literally a mix of all three. cool darks maybe?

munchkin: what do you look for in a significant other? really i just want someone who is kind-hearted, passionate, shares my interests and makes me smile.

paddywack: How would you describe a perfect date? i think its less about where i am and more about how i feel. A perfect date would be one where i cant contain my smile because the person i am with makes me feel so happy, where i cant help but blush every time my date looks at me because their eyes seem to twinkle and show me that they like me too. A perfect date would be one where theres never ending discussions and conversations, where i laugh so loud at something my date said, or they listen to every single word of what ive said and i can tell the were listening. I want to feel comfortable and secure, like my date wants to be with me.

precious: What is something valuable that you learned in your life? Someone elses success, is not your failure.

pretty: Do you like to cook or bake more? I honestly love to do both but baking is a big hobby of mine!

prince: How would you describe you handwriting? always changing, normally cursive, slants to one side

princess:do you play any instruments? if not, are there any you wish you could play? I used to play piano. I’d love to play the guitar and also the harp would be super cool to learn

pumpkin: favorite fruit/veg? i love watermelon!!!!!! my fave veg is either broccoli, or brussel sprouts

rainbow: what was the last line of the last book you read? “always dancing in the sun. yes. yes. yes”

smitten: do you collect anything? Theater playbills, concert/show tickets, i take and collect polaroids and i also have a small collection of beach rocks and VW camper vans.

snuggle: what is your favorite candy? does chocolate count as candy?

starlight: What was your favorite show as a child? RECESS

soft: describe your favourite spot in your house? white walls decorates with lights, polaroids and patterned flags, anti war posters, a pinboard full of art, a whiteboard full of ‘to-dos’, plants, photoframes, ornaments, a flamingo, books upon books, a television nd the comfiest bed in the world...

toot: What is something you find unique about yourself? I think that i think in quite a unique way. I kind of talk and deduce and speak in a way that i dont think some people always understand.

treasure: What was something that made you smile today? I had dinner with my sisters and their boyfriends and i smiled a lot as we sat and talked. It was really nice.

whiffle: If you could have a magical power what would it be? Ive often wished i could read peoples minds or stop time. Maybe also heal people or change their state of emotion so they could always be happy.

whiskers: Do you usually wear makeup? I love wearing make up and i find it kinda therapeutic to put on. I do tend to wear makeup everyday if im leaving the house.

wiggly: Are you a messy or tidy person? tidy. I love to clean, i love clean spaces, and i also love to organize.

wispy: do you like the place where you grew up? do you think you will live there when you get older? my town is very cute and very lovely and as i grew up i dont think i ever truly appreciated how wonderful a town it is. That being said, with the dreams i have and the places i wanna go, my town is too small and i need to expand my horizons.

Thank you hun!!💜💜💜

0 notes