#work + hour and a half of yard work + laundry

[archangeldyke-all]

Ok ok I have another idea!

What if Reader challenges Sevika to see which of them can last the longest without sex to see who caves first? Reader thinks Sevika will cave in the first couple of days and she does struggle but Reader quickly realizes Sevika's level of self control is far greater than she thought 😈

I'm imagining lots and lots of lots of flirting, teasing, petting, and touching between them

hehehehehehehehehehehe i love this

men and minors dni

it starts as a joke, a halfhearted threat just meant to make sevika laugh. usually, you guys are pretty accommodating for each other when it comes to chores. if sevika forgets to do the laundry on her day, or you're too tired to do the dishes, you'll both happily fill in for the other. but when it comes to clearing the yard of slayer's poop-- you both fight tooth and nail to avoid the chore.

so, as sevika's pushing you out the backdoor with a pair of gloves and garbage bag shoved against your chest, you glare at her and speak without thinking. "sevika, if you lock me out here i'm witholding sex for a fucking week!" you squawk as you try to shove against her body blocking the door frame. sevika snorts.

"yeah fuckin' right, you wouldn't last three days before you're begging for it." she says. you scoff.

"says you. you were begging me to sit on your face half an hour ago!"

sevika raises an eyebrow at you. "you really wanna do this babe?" she asks. you huff, so caught up in the moment that you're not thinking.

"first one to break has to clean the yard for the rest of the year." you say. sevika grins.

"deal." she says, sticking her hand out. you glare down at it and put your hand in hers, gasping when she tugs you toward her chest, not wasting a moment to press her lips against yours, licking at the seam of your mouth. you gasp, melting in her grip, and sevika pulls you back inside, before spinning you around and pinning you to the wall, gripping your hips impossibly tight. you whimper, and she pulls away smirking down at you.

"good luck, baby." she says, chuckling and winking before sauntering away.

you gulp as the reality of the situation you've gotten yourself into hits you.

the first day is fine. you're both constantly teasing each other, but it's nothing you can't deal with. kisses that linger a few seconds too long, hands that wander under shirts and into back pockets, crowding each other into the wall. you're turned on the entire day, but you're able to ignore it.

the next day is different. you guys fuck pretty frequently, it's rare that you go more than 24 hours without touching one another. you spend all day distracted by sevika. in the morning, you burn your eggs, too busy looking at her abs as wanders around the house shirtless. at work, you're biting your lip and trying to come up with ways to fluster her, only to get yourself so worked up thinking about it that you have to go to the bathroom and splash cool water on your face. and when you get home, sevika's working out in the living room, in just a pair of tiny shorts, and you groan before locking yourself in the bedroom. you hear her muffled laugh on the other side of the door.

you start fighting dirty on day three. purposely foregoing a bra, wearing a thin white shirt and nothing else. you catch sevika's eyes on your tits a few times, and each time you grin. you coincidentally keep dropping things in front of her, taking your time to bed over in front of her then slowly, slowly standing up. you catch her ogling you, but she doesn't crack, she just smiles at you and licks her lips.

on day four you become desperate. you've been wet for the past forty eight hours, just from being in sevika's space. she's so fucking hot-- she doesn't even have to try to work you up. just watching her exist gets you going: the way she smokes; the way her shoulders fill out her shirt; that tantalizing strip of skin between her pants and shirt hem; she drives you fucking insane. you haven't been this distracted and flustered since before you guys were dating, when you were still dancing around each other, unsure if you felt the same way for one another.

it's not even an evil plot or scheme when she walks in on you masturbating. you were just so fucking horny and desperate you couldn't help yourself, shutting yourself in the bathroom and leaning against the sink before sticking your hand down your pants. you wish it had been a scheme, because it's a genius idea, and you're a little disappointed in yourself that you didn't think of it yourself, but, regardless, sevika ends up walking in on you with your shirt hem between your teeth to muffle your moans and two fingers in your cunt.

you gasp when the door swings open, and she freezes in the doorway, eyes growing wide and blinking at you. she gulps, and then she lunges, wrapping her hands around your waist and smashing her lips against yours. you moan against her.

"keep fucking going." she growls. you shudder and start fucking your fingers in and out of your squelching cunt again. she groans. "you're that needy?" she asks, chuckling as she ducks down to bite your neck. you hum. "huh? 'm i turnin' you on that much?" she asks. you whimper.

"fuck off." you whisper shakily. sevika snorts.

"i'd rather fuck you. too bad you made a that stupid bet huh? you could be sittin' on my dick right now. makin' a puddle in my lap. or on my face. fuck, i miss the way you taste. i miss your mouth too-- first thing imma do when you fold is get you on your knees, get your mouth on me, those pretty eyes blinkin' up at me."

you cum on your fingers and sevika hums in satisfaction against your neck, reaching down to grab your wrist before pulling your hand out of your pants and bringing your wet fingers up to her mouth, wrapping her lips around them. it's so fucking hot, especially when she moans and rolls her eyes back in her head, that you nearly cum again.

you end up folding the next day. you've had a horrible day at work, and the thought of coming home and not pinning sevika to the bed and riding her until your brain melts out of your ears makes you want to cry.

sevika's a cocky son of a bitch about it too.

you slam the door open, before flinging your shoes and jacket off, huffing as you walk into the living room. sevika looks up from the book she's reading to look at you, and you smack the book out of her hands as you straddle her lap. she grins.

"i can't fucking stand you." you growl as you tear at her shirt. she laughs and lifts her arms over her head, helping you get out of it. "since when are you patient? huh? where the fuck did that come from?" you ask as you unclasp her bra, your hands squeezing her tits. sevika moans, arching up into your touch.

"just 'cause i got my hands on you all the time doesn't mean i don't have self control, baby." she says, giggling. you groan.

"well, fuck you!" you cry, pinching her nipples. she squeaks and you groan, before leaning forward and smashing your lips against hers. "can't fucking stand you-- you were supposed to fold the second i came outta the bedroom without a bra on three days ago." you whine. she snorts.

"honestly, i'm surprised you made it this long." she says. you huff, sinking your claws into her shoulders, and she growls before flipping you over and pinning you to the couch. you gulp, blinking up at her, and she smiles down at you, her eyes twinkling. you reach up, trying to pull her down for a kiss, and she complies, only to dodge your lips at the last minute and grab your earlobe between her teeth, before licking up the shell of it and whispering against you.

"go clean the yard, and then you can have me whichever way you like."

you blink, and when sevika pulls away to smile down at you, you whine and tug your hair. "are you fucking serious!?" you ask. sevika giggles.

"fine, i'll fuck you first. but once your legs stop shaking i'm locking you outside 'til all that poop is gone." she says. you pout and huff, and sevika grins.

"this is the worst dirty talk ever." you say.

she bursts into laughter above you.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut

[rustedhearts]

sentimental reasons (boxer!steve x librarian!fem reader)

summary: sunday afternoon musings in autumn.

uses she her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the king of the ring ✶

tags: pregnant!reader, fluff, that’s about it.

sentimental reasons - nat king cole

hawkins, indiana, october 20th 1996

“I wonder if she’ll have my eyes.”

“Hmm. I hope.”

Steve’s lashes tickled the tip of your finger as it delicately scaled the soft tissue of his eyelid. His lip quirked, nose twitching when you came to trace the slope of it: bent sideways by brutal fists barreling into cartilage. But once, it was smooth and straight. No matter how crooked or left-leaning it was these days, you still found it handsome.

“Hope she doesn’t get stuck with that,” Steve snorted, and you frowned as you smoothed your thumb over the swollen bridge. “Hope she has her mama’s.”

Steve lifted his hand from where it rested on your stomach to bop your nose. You smiled, fingers pushing through the long tresses framing his face. You had been reclining on your back for a few hours now, late-term pregnancy responsible for consistent exhaustion and sore ligaments. It felt like the whole of you existed in the front, and sometimes you worried you were walking on a forward slant.

The house smelled like the slowly-browned roast your mother brought you, warming in the crockpot; the sweet aroma of brown sugar carrots and the bitter snap of celery. From your open window: damp earth and the musk of goldenrod leaves. It smelled like home.

Cheek pressed gently to your stomach, chapped hands feeling for flutters and kicks, massaging your aches through a faded, stretched-out tee: Steve. He smelled like a morning Marlboro—faded and nipped away by the wind—and the woodsy vanilla of your laundry detergent. He smelled like Steve. He felt like Steve: warm and firm and lovely. Cocooned between his half-pressed weight and the softness of the comforter, you felt you could’ve lied there for the rest of your life.

You closed your eyes and listened to the leaves rustle in the afternoon. The distant babble of youthful laughter. The whoosh of rubber on asphalt at thirty-five miles an hour. The crunch of bike tires over the pile of leaves Steve raked and then left on the tree lawn so he could tend to you.

He heard your silence from the front yard. He felt your ache.

“It’s funny,” Steve murmured, eyes wide and alert, finger trailing a path down the roundness of your bump. “I never thought I’d be here. Never thought I’d have…another part of me. Like this.”

He flattened his palm to rub across your belly, spreading a blissful massage that had you shifting. Expelling a breezy sigh, you blindly tucked a patch of hair behind Steve’s ear. Soft, just-shampooed: vetiver and musk.

“She’s all ours, baby,” he whispered.

The room swayed in the stillness. Like being cradled in a lullaby, gently rocked to sleep by one dreamy, autumnal afternoon. You felt like you were floating, gently bobbing to the rush and recede of the sea.

"Kinda scary to think about," you returned a moment later, just as quietly. You peeped your eyes open to find Steve's face.

Smoothed into mindless relaxation, he watched his own hand lift over the mound of your bump. Back and forth, over the swell and down the valleys. His wedding band caught a spark of pale afternoon light: thick silver tungsten around his ring finger. Unbreakable. Irreplaceable.

Work got in the way of him wearing it often, but on long weekends like this—when you slipped away from the busy, sunny California life for a slice of small town America back home—Steve slipped the ring on and never took it off.

He liked seeing it on his hand. He liked hearing it clink with yours when you held hands at night. He liked seeing them together—your ring, his ring—and knowing: this was eternal.

"God I hope I don't fuck it up."

You tipped your head on the pillow, craning to find Steve. You gently scraped your nails over his scalp, watching them create gaps in his mop of hair.

"You won't," you cooed. "No more than all the other parents."

Steve's lips curled into a pursed smile, handsome and boyish. Your chest stuttered a moment.

"Thanks, angel. Think 'm just nervous," he sighed, words tight between his teeth with his chin pressed to your belly.

You shifted again, socked feet rubbing his sides. "Me too. My mom said she used to throw up just from nerves right before she had me, but I think I turned out alright."

He breezed into another grin, a scoffed laugh shooting from his mouth. "Yeah."

You twirled a strand of hair near his brow around your finger. It curled into shape, tickling his eye.

"Wonder if my mom was nervous with me," he whispered.

You took pause, scanning the surface of his face. His eyes flicked away from your stomach toward your own, and he instantly scoffed and shifted on his stomach.

"Ah, shit, sorry. That was—sorry—"

"Baby, hey," you awed, reaching down to cup his face. "Don't be sorry. It's okay to wonder."

Steve halted a moment. Staring at you, head risen from his place on your center body, eyes a little rounder and wider and laced with pleading. Softened and sweet, you flashed him a small, reassuring smile and scratched your nails against his scalp again. He slowly sank back down, rubbing his cheek against your clothed belly.

“‘Kay,” he murmured.

“Wanna talk more about it—“

“No, baby. Just…wanna talk about names.”

You giggled. “Names?”

You could see the coil of his mouth from here, how the side of his face lifted with the small quirk of muscle.

“Yeah. Been thinkin’ about what we’re gonna name little Harrington.”

Your heart swelled to double the size, aching in your chest. You could barely contain the burst of adoration blooming with a pulse.

“You have?”

Steve’s finger made a zig-zag trail on your belly again. “Mhm. So…let me see it.”

You blinked, brows etching together. “See what?”

Steve turned his head, hair dragging across your belly and flouncing from his face. “The notebook.”

You clapped your hands together with a giddy grin. You’ve kept a notebook of baby names since your first sonogram. You knew you were getting ahead of yourself, and there were chances the pregnancy wouldn’t stick—but all you could think about was what you’d name your child. When you found out it was a girl, that you’d have a daughter, the notebook immediately became a place of scribbles and exclamation marks and highlighted stars.

Interestingly enough, when you started to show a bump beneath your clothes and required more assistance for daily tasks, Steve swapped roles with you as the worrier. He helped you up and down stairs, poured your cereal, made you smoothies, cut your steak, and did his best to do the cleaning exactly the way you did it.

Steve was terrified you’d lose the baby, and that it would be all his fault.

For some reason, naming the baby felt like “jinxing it” to him.

“Really, you wanna see it?” you squealed, capturing your lip between your teeth.

Steve chuckled, a deep, grumbling sound that shuddered through you. “Yeah, baby.”

“Okay good, because I can’t get up.”

Steve chortled, shifting on his stomach to press a kiss to your belly, wide hands spanned on either side. He wiggled off the bed and headed toward the door, rounding the corner toward the library room.

The Hawkins house, made the Harrington residence circa 1994, had a gorgeous, oak-shelved room full of first editions and signed copies. Steve spared no expense when it came to your little corner of the house, where he often found you curled up in the window seat scribbling in a journal, or scanning a book. You had a desk against the wallpapered wall, where a type writer from 1935 found at a flea market in Virginia sat with every intention of good use. Steve hated the sound of your clacking, but you said the sound was “transcendent.”

Steve padded into the room, blanketed in a pale grey darkness as the sky muddled with rain clouds. The window came to a peak in a rounded arch, wet with old rain drops from last night’s shower. Collections of leaves from the oak tree looming in the yard congregated on the glass in groups of yellow.

He found the notebook on the desk beneath your piles of paper, all full of ink. Steve fought the urge to filter through it as he returned to the bedroom.

You struggled to sit yourself up, wobbling on your palms like doing the crab walk. Steve flung the notebook toward the bed and rushed to your side, hands at the ready.

“Baby,” he huffed, hoisting you toward the pillows at the headboard, which he fluffed adamantly as you settled back. “Wait for me.”

Your eyes rolled, though you were already out of breath. “I had it.”

He shot you a pointed look through narrowed brows, and fumbled for the notebook at the edge of the mattress. He settled beside you, and as the air followed his motions, you caught whiffs of damp soil from his time outside this morning.

“Okay, open it,” you insisted, voice wavering with delight.

Steve flipped the spine open, revealing the first lined page of paper with your familiar writing.

“Jesus Christ, honey,” Steve drawled, pulling the notebook back an inch to take it all in. His eyesight had been slipping for the past year and a half.

He needed glasses, but refused to wear them.

Cheeks swelling with warmth, you tipped your head over to get a peek of your work. “I had a lot of ideas.”

"And they're...alphabetized," Steve commented, tone thick with amusement.

"Obviously."

Steve scanned the list of names, eyes shuttering half-closed and popping back open like a camera lens. The ones he didn’t like got a screwed up face in response. Steve had a headache by the time he got to the fourth page, and the names weren't stopping.

Only few caught his eye: Alice, Caroline, Catherine, Eloise, Emma, Lily, Josephine, Jane, Winnie.

As he continued to scan, he found himself pairing the names with his own surname. Alice Harrington, Catherine Harrington, Lily Harrington. None had the ring he thought they would.

"Do you have a favorite?" he asked, flipping pages again.

Resting your head on his shoulder, you gently skirted the pads of your finger over the warm skin of his forearm. You trailed them to the bone of his knuckle, feeling the purple veins protruding beneath the flesh, plumped from overexertion.

"Mhm," you hummed. "But I don't want to sway you."

Steve turned his head, lips brushing your temple. "It's Jane."

You lifted your head so quickly that it knocked Steve's chin, and he tongued away the pain with a wordless grimace as your face bloomed with warm thrill. You gazed at your husband in delightful wonderment.

"How did you know?"

"It had five stars next to it."

You giggled, warmth increasing. "Oh."

"And," he added, head cocking to pop a kiss on your cheek. "I remember you mentioned that name before. Back when we were still dating, talkin' about kids. You said you always loved the name Jane, and if you ever had a girl, that would be your top choice."

Looping your arm around Steve's, you squeezed him close and nuzzled his neck. "Oh, Steve, you are so hot right now."

Steve's laughter was sharp and surprised, and he snapped the notebook closed to toss it aside. Hands free and desiring your touch, he gently pulled at your legs until you reclined flat on the bed again.

"I know."

Mounting over you with an agreeable and cautious space between his body and your bump, he pressed a gentle pepper of smooches to your face. You ran your hands across his chest, playing with the silver chain around his neck, thin and linked.

"So...Jane it is?"

Steve pulled back, eyes flicking between yours. His features were soft, a sharp contrast to the scars and bruises they regularly carried. He brushed the back of two fingers across your brow, guiding your hair away.

"Jane it is, my love."

♡ ♡

#rolly! #boxer!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #joe keery #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #boxer!steve #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington au #steve stranger things #king steve #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic

[topsyturvy-turtely]

OTP challenge - day 17

[link to day 16]

17: washing something

"Sherlock?", the name sounded from the laundry room, formed as a question by John Watson.

Sherlock hummed, doubting his flatmate would hear him but not caring. But said man kept going anyways, "Do you have any idea where my jumper is?"

"The hideous one?"

"You find all my jumpers hideous, I mean the grey one! I need to wash it!"

Sherlock eyed his bedroom door. "No idea."

*one week later*

"Where the hell is it?", John asked, kneeling on the floor, looking under the couch. Sherlock rather enjoyed the view.

"Where's what?", Sherlock asked, while continuing to eye John's arse.

"My jumper!", with that John stood up and flapped his arms, frustrated.

"I'm sure it's somewhere, you just gotta look better."

John grunted. "Thanks for your help, Sherlock." Annoyed sarcasm was floating from his voice.

*two weeks later*

"I don't get it!", a very grumpy John Watson stomped through the flat. Almost aggressively searching for the one jumper. The jumper! The John Watson jumper! He had to find it!

Out of a sudden spur, John marched into Sherlock's room without knocking. Sherlock, who was sitting on his bed, looked at him, startled. With John's jumper in his hands.

"Is that... my jumper?", John asked surprised.

Sherlock - looking caught - stared up at John. Looked at the jumper in his hands... and at John again. "It... might?"

"I'm... confused... Did you... keep it?"

"I... might have.", Sherlock said, visibly uncomfortable.

"But, why?"

"It doesn't matter!", Sherlock said, suddenly all of the awkwardness gone. He stood up and moved as if to exit the room.

"Oh, no. You're not leaving-" John stood in front of the door. "-until you've told me why you kept my favorite jumper for over three weeks!"

"It's for-", the smallest pause, almost unnoticeable, but John did notice. "-an experiment."

"Yeah? What kinda experiment is that? Why would you need a sheep wool jumper for it? Hell, the last time I had it I spilled freaking tomatoe-sauce on it!"

"I washed it out."

"You washed what out?"

"The tomato stain, obviously, John. Do keep up. Now will you let me-", Sherlock wanted to push by John, but the doctor wasn't having it.

"The whole reason why I was looking for my jumper in the first place, was, because I needed to wash it, so-", a realization hit John. "For god's sake- did you wash it by hand?"

With two big steps he was at his jumper. The red-brown stain still faintly visible. With an incredulous look he held the jumper up towards- nothing.

Sherlock was gone.

He had fled the scene.

When John quickly walked into the living room, he faintly heard the outside door close.

With an exhausted sigh, his jumper in his hands, John sat down in his armchair. What has Sherlock's mission been? Confused, John glared at his jumper. Then he picked it up, grabbed more laundry and turned the washing machine on. He had missed this piece of clothing. A lot. Maybe... if he looked into Sherlock's room...?

***

Sherlock called a cab as soon as he was outside of the flat.

He couldn't believe he had been caught like that. John is suspecting something for sure. He didn't lie however - he actually had needed the jumper for an experiment. He wouldn't waste his thoughts on this right now, though. He was dropped off at Bart's and immediately started working on some poor guy that had already been half-eaten by chrysalises before Scotland Yard had found him. The murderer was the husband of course - it is always the husband.

Sherlock lost himself in documenting the stage of decay of the corpse and for an hour or two he almost forgot about John Watson and his jumper. Almost, never all the way.

When Sherlock returned home, he found John in his armchair calmly typing away on his laptop. A relieved sigh escaped- and immediately got stuck in his throat when he saw his journal on the coffee table next to his flatmate. It was where he had kept track of all the different smells of John, and how it had been impacted by keeping it in his room. (He would never admit he sometimes would sleep with it. Well- It was for the experiment!) The jumper was the John-est thing he could find. John wore this article of clothing the most. Therefore it was the best sample for his research.

"Why are you still standing there like you've seen a ghost? Sit down!", John asked him. Slowly, like he was approaching a wild animal, Sherlock did as he was told.

The doctor then looked up, smiled, put his laptop away, leaned forward. Sherlock gulped and considered running away again. He was not ready for the conversation that was about to be held.

"So." John started, and Sherlock eyed the door. "Don't run away I am not mad, I promise.", John saw through his flatmate immediately.

Sherlock nodded.

But when he saw, John still had that assuring, patient smile on his face, it somehow put Sherlock off. He was just considering jumping up and running away again when John spoke up, "I'm gonna make a deduction."

Sherlock opened his mouth but John continued before Sherlock could say anything.

"You love-", John began too loudly. He cleared his throat. "You love... my jumper."

Alarmed, Sherlock immediately started to find an excuse. "Look, John. The only reason I took that-"

"Actually, I think you love... me."

Sherlock was dumbfounded. "No. No, John, you're misinterpreting this. I-"

"And I...", John took a deep breath. "...love you, too." John apparently wasn't gonna let Sherlock finish one sentence.

"-never meant to make our friendship... Wait. what did you just say?"

John looked at him, eyes intense. "You love me. And I love you, too.", he said matter-of-factly. A statement - a deduction - in John-Watson-style: Not a long monologue, only the hard facts.

"Did I seduce you, Mr. Holmes?"

"I'm certain you meant 'dedu-'" an abrupt ending. "Oh.", Sherlock said.

A smirk crept on John's face. Slowly, he inched closer towards Sherlock. He was sitting on the edge of his armchair now.

"I'm gonna kiss you now, are you okay with that?"

"John, what-"

"That was a simple yes-no question. So, what is your answer? Yes or no?"

Sherlock gulped and looked at John. "Y-Yes."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

And just like that, something, Sherlock never even dared to dream of, came true.

---

hi!

i, originally, wanted to update Human Urges but i have the biggest fucking writer's block with that fic. every time i open that doc i am immediately mad because i dislike it SO MUCH and do not know how to fix it. and then i just close it, because WHAT. if any of you are reading it - i apologize for the extremely slow updates. please know i will manage eventually and i hope it will be worth the wait!

anygays. decided to finally publish this silly little thing at least. hope you like it! lmk! thanks for reading and reblogging, babes! -🐢

btw i will probably join @fluffbruary - sounds like a cool challenge. maybe i can actually pull through with it :D

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed💚) @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @7arantellgrrl @ssmeowl123 @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @pansherlock @the-smol-bean-libby-blog @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @almosttinycowboy @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @baker-street-blog @psychosociogentleman

#turtely writes #turtely's otp challenge #day 17 #prompt: washing something #happy about reblogs 🥰 #johnlock #johnlock fic #johnlock ficlet #bbc sherlock #sherlock #john watson #sherlock holmes #sherlock x john #sherlock fic

[wewanttofu-kanimeboys]

Just some short drabbles of our favorite Anime Boys pregnant!

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, NSFW content, Mpreg, soft angst

Kotetsu and Izumo

Getting both of your omegas pregnant at the same time was not the plan. Izumo wanted to be the one to carry your pups but after four years of trying, the stress and guilt were wearing on Izumo. The three of you had decided that Kotetsu would try to get pregnant during his next heat and he did his first heat, which made Izumo feel worse. You and Kotetsu tried your best to cheer him up and comfort him. When Izumo had his heat 3 months later, it was a surprise to find out he had gotten pregnant. It was a welcome surprise, after four years of trying for a baby, to find out the three of you were expecting two babies. You kept making jokes that they always had to do things together.

Your favorite part of the day was coming home to both of your omegas curled up in their nest. On this particular day, you came home to find the two of them shirtless with their stomachs pushed up together.

“They’re kicking each other.” Kotetsu smiled at you. He looked down at their stomach and rubbed them. “They're going to be best friends. I can already feel it.”

“He's moving so much today,” Izumo smiled, rubbing his stomach. His stomach was smaller than Kotetsu's since he was only 5 months while Kotetsu was 8 months.

“Hi babies, you're Alpha's home.” you climbed into the nest with them and kissed both their stomachs. “How are my two amazing omega’s doing today?”

“We’re good.” Izumo smiled as you kissed both of them as well. You happily scented the both of them and they moved to have you lay in between them.

“Would you guys like to work in the nursery?” you asked as the two of them curled up to your sides.

“No, let's just lay in the nest all night.” Kotetsu snuggled up to your side. You kissed his cheek as he yawned.

“We worked on it this morning, and we did all the laundry,” Izumo said, “We’re both tired.”

“Oh, dear, you both did a lot today, rest and I’ll take care of you.” You held both of them close and scented them. Kotetsu was the first asleep and Izumo lay half asleep as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Are you okay?

“Ya, our baby has been moving so much today and it's just… feels more real today. Our baby… I’m finally having our baby.” Izumo smiled tiredly.

“I’m so happy for us. We’re growing our family.” You smiled at him.

“Are you mad at me that it took so long? We could have had babies already, maybe a toddler by now…” Izumo sighed.

“Izumo, it's not your fault. Sometimes these things happen. It doesn't matter how long it took.” You kissed him softly. “I would be happy even if we never had kids because I love the two of you so much.”

“I just want to have pups.” Izumo blushed. “Can we try again when I have my next heat?”

“Maybe we should wait a year after the babies are born before we start trying again.” you laughed nervously. “Six months might be too soon.”

“What if it takes a long time again? What if I don't get pregnant again?” Izumo worried.

“Let's get through this pregnancy first. We’ll worry about having more children later.” You kissed him softly.

“I want to give you a hundred pups.” Izumo hummed half asleep.

“A hundred? I think that may be too much.”

“But they would be so perfect and the world needs more beautiful things.” Izuma was soon asleep and you decided that the three of you would talk about how many babies you would have later.

Yamato

Yamato didn't know what to do with himself when he was put on maternity leave. You tried to help him stay busy, with yard work, cleaning out the attic, and anything else around the house you could think of. The two of you spent so many hours decorating the baby's room and getting things ready but now that Yamato was 8 months pregnant, the house was in immaculate condition and Yamato was far too pregnant for projects. So when you came home to find him moving the nest from the room you shared to the living room, you weren't surprised to smell the restlessness in his scent. You showered, letting him finish the nest. He didn't like being interrupted while he was focused on making his nest and tolerated it even less the past few months. You wait until he is settled into your nest before joining him.

“How are you feeling?” You pull him close to you stroking his stomach.

“I hate being so useless,” Yamato grumbled. You sighed. Yamato had been an active-duty ninja for so long, he didn’t know what to do with himself if he wasn’t working or training.

“You’re not useless, you're growing our pup in you. That’s a lot of work. You’re growing our little family to three.” You kiss his cheek. You felt the baby kick your hand and get excited. “He’s kicking again. He’s going to be so strong.”

“He likes you, he’s kicking my spleen though.” Yamato sighed.

“Is there a reason our bed is in the living room?”

“It’s cooler here.�� Yamato sighed.

“Do you want me to turn the air down?”

“No, just cuddle me.” Yamato curled up to you. You happily comply and hold your omega tight, stroking his swollen stomach as your pup continues kicking and moving at your touch.

Iruka

“Iruka Sensei's having contractions!” One of Iruka’s students burst into your classroom. You tell your students to work on some worksheets and send one of your students to tell the principal before rushing to Iruka’s classroom to find him panting in his chair with a hand on his heavily swollen stomach. You were by his side in an instant when Iruka stifled a yell as another contraction hit.

“Iruka love, how long have you been having contractions?” You asked worriedly. Iruka refused to go on leave until he was about to give birth as he didn’t want to leave his students with a sub for so many months. You finally talked him into taking leave a week before his due date but it seems it didn’t matter as Iruka was still a little over two weeks away from his due date.

“Yesterday, I thought it was just false contractions. They’re still far apart. It’s too early” Iruka was trying not to panic, he didn’t want his students to see him like that.

“Two weeks isn’t too early. Let’s get you to the teacher lounge.” You pull him to his feet and practically carry him to the teacher's lounge. Iruka had another contraction hit and he whimpered as you rubbed his back. “That was 11 minutes. We should take you to get checked out before we head home.”

“It’s going to be hours before I give birth, just give me a few minutes and I can finish the day,” Iruka said determinedly,

“I will not let my omega over-exert himself when he’s in labor. You’re going to get looked at then we are going to rest in your nest until it's time to go to the hospital.” You said. You leave him just long enough to make sure that both of your classes were behaving and that subs were on their way before heading back to your omega, finding him in the middle of another contraction. Once it was over, you helped him up and helped him out of the building and to the hospital. It was very close to the school and they took him in right away. You hold his hand comforting him as he was given an exam and told everything was looking good. Iruka was still hours away from delivering so the two of you headed to your apartment.

“Alright, let's lie down for a little.” You guide him to his nest and settle him down between your legs. He lay limply against your chest as you stroked his stomach. “You’re doing so well. You are so strong, Iruka love.”

You scented him as you rubbed his shoulders. You had made him go to a birthing class with you and both of you were glad for it. You stroked his swollen stomach. Iruka smiled at you and kissed your cheek. “We're going to have a baby soon…”

“Ya, we will.” You kissed his forehead. You shower him with praise and kisses as Iruka went through the hours of labor. You spent then helping him into new positions and walking around as he needed. Once his contractions get stronger and closer together you grabbed your bags and helped Iruka up. “Are you ready to go have our baby?”

Kakashi

As much as you loved Kakashi, having him home all the time was starting to drive you crazy. He was demanding and clingy ever since finding out he was pregnant. The two of you never planned on getting pregnant. Kakashi was diligent with his birth control. Both of you worked a lot and you knew Kakashi was stressed enough worrying about you that you never wanted to add more worry for him. It happened anyway, and you were worried about how Kakashi would react. He lost so many of the ones he loved and was so afraid of losing more loved ones. You watched him closely for signs of panic attacks and nightmares returning. He had nightmares multiple times a week for over a year about losing you. Now, after being together for 6 years, he had only had four bad nightmares in the past year. Kakashi, though, was taking the pregnancy well, even after finding out it was twins. He had his worries and he would start spiraling with what-ifs, but not the full-blown panic attacks you were expecting, not yet at least. You were very concerned that they would come after he gave birth.

“Alpha~! I need attention.” Kakashi was laying on the floor of the living room as you were working on the laundry. You were used to Kakashi demanding all of your attention when he was home, only before he was gone a fair amount of time. He came back from missions touch-starved and clingy. You loved that you got to see your mates' soft side and loved being his support.

“I need clean clothes for work,” You chuckled. You were a civilian that owned a small corner market. You did well and it was more than enough to pay your bills.

“No, you could just stay home and stay with me and we could just lay around naked all the time.” Kakashi teased.

“As tempting as that is, I can’t just close my shop for months.” You smiled as you finished doing your load. After you started the machine, you laid down with Kakashi and wrapped your arms around him. “What do you want for dinner tonight?”

“You~” Kakashi teased.

“Maybe dessert,” you teased back. “I think we have fish in the freezer. Or I could make some stir fry with the leftover chicken.”

“I don't care.” Kakashi hid his head in your side. You smiled and stroked his stomach. “Stop, you're going to make them start kicking me.”

“I still can't believe there are two babies growing in here.” You smiled. You moved between his legs and pushed up his shirt. You leaned down and kissed his stomach. “Hi, babies, it's your Alpha! Grow big and strong! Your omega and I are so excited to meet you.”

“They're kicking my bladder. Help me up so I can go to the bathroom.” Kakashi whined. You kissed his stomach again and pulled Kakashi up and helped him waddle to the bathroom. At 7 months with twins, Kakashi was heavily pregnant and struggling to move around. After you sat him down at the table and started cooking dinner. You quickly stir-fried the leftover chicken and the two of you ate.

“Can we go to bed early tonight?” Kakashi asked as you cleaned the dishes.

“Of course, are you feeling okay?” You knew Kakashi got worn out quickly the past few months but you still worried about him.

“I just want to nest with you.” Kakashi gave his normal lazy smile. You chuckled at him and helped him to your shared room once you finished cleaning up. You helped him change into his pajamas and laid him in his nest before getting into yours and laying down with him. “Are we going to have dessert~?”

You chuckled and kissed him softly, reaching under his shirt and groping his chest. Kakashi moaned into the kiss. You continued kissing him and massaging his breast. You pushed Kakashi’s shirt up and moved down to suck on one of his breasts as you reached a hand down to rub him through his pants. Kakashi gasped and rolled his hips. His breasts were just starting to soften and you were loving it. You spent a few minutes sucking and kissing his breast before moving to the other side.

“Alpha~ my chest~ it's good~” Kakashi moaned. You continued as Kakashi moaned and withered under you for a few more minutes before undressing Kakashi and getting him in a comfortable position with a pillow under his back for support.

“Is that good? Are you comfortable?” you asked, kissing him gently.

“Yes, yes, hurry up.” Kakashi pouted. You chucked as you settled between his legs and entered a finger into him and started stretching him out. You quickly entered a second and then a third. “Alpha~ I’m ready~ more~”

“Be patient, my omega~” you teased as you made sure he was stretched out. You lined yourself up and bottomed out, letting Kakashi adjust. Kakashi gasped, throwing his head back with pleasure. He put a hand on his stomach as you began to thrust. Watching Kakashi unravel beneath you so heavily pregnant with your pups made you so excited. You were soon thrusting hard and erratically into Kakashi.

“Alpha~! Knot me~! Give me your Knot~!” Kakashi begged beneath you. You were nervous about knotting him when he was so pregnant but the doctor had assured you it was safe and may even help prevent tearing. Kakashi had been the one to ask the doctor about it after you were too nervous to knot him.

“You're such a good omega, I’m going to fill you up with my knot~ You’re so hot like this~ I wish I could keep you in bed begging for my knot until you give birth.” Kakashi moaned as you teased him. You knew he was always very into dirty talk. He soon came around you. You thrusted as deep as you could as you came into him and your knot expanded. Kakashi was moaning incoherently as the two of you locked together. You took in the sight of your omega completely undone under you with a content hum. You never really cared about having children but seeing Kakashi pregnant turned on a side you didn't realize you had. Once your knot deflated you cleaned the two of you up and laid down with him.

“We won't be able to do things like this after I give birth for a long time so we need to get as much sex in before I give birth.'' Kakashi hummed.

You chuckled. “Okay, I’ll take good care of you.”

#Alpha!Reader #Omega!Izumo #Omega!Kotetsu #Omega!Yamato #Omega!Iruka #Omega!Kakashi #Omegaverse #GN!Reader

[fantasticallyfruity4]

Billy and Eddie got a little place together after highschool.

It’s nothing fancy, really. But it’s nicer than the house on old cherry road, and nicer than Wayne’s trailer. Which yes, is Eddie’s home, and he’d never speak bad of, but god knows is held together by duck tape and prayer.

Honestly it’s only nice because it’s new. It’s a little 2 bedroom apartment above one of the stores on main. The owner used to use it as storage but since the mall opened he could used the extra income from converting it to a little apartment.

It’s got steady heat and electric. And they can even make the room to splurge on a basic cable package. they both know just how much that is to have. just how lucky they are to have that much.

they both know how lucky they are that the fridge isn't overflowing but always stocked enough. that they can afford a few meals out a week when they’re lazy, or as a little treat. that they can have days off during the week, fucking weekends!!! like they're middle class or some crazy shit. ends are met, and there's still some give. fuck, there's even a tiny savings account ($10 a week in the big shoebox Billys work boots came in. they deposit it when it fills up).

The entirety of the apartment is pretty humble. the “new” bed frame was from ikea, on sale because it was the display. the nightstands were from one of the thrift stores. the couch was from garreth’s place before his mom decided to redecorate, and garreth told them if they would lug it it was theirs. the coffee table was a house warming gift from Joyce Byers (and Billys still not sure he deserves her forgiveness or love, but that’s besides the point), the kitchen table from a flea market and the chairs (which honestly look like they could go, right eds? they're a great match we’ll take em) from a yard sale (same as their dressers). but everything works damn fine.

And best of all they were able to take Max in.

See, when Billy got the fuck outta dodge Neil got real mean to Max.

nothing happened, at least they were told so by the girl. and if she lied? billy wouldn't hold it against her, he'd been there- lying to anyone and Eveyone about what went on in that house. but assuming it didn't happen, it did still come too damn close.

And when max called one night and said “Billy I’m scared”, the boys were over with Eddie’s van in a half an hour and packing her shit while eddie Called in a favor from Steve harrington who called in a favor from Jim hopper, who just stood menacingly in the doorway, daring Neil to say or do a damn thing.

And this town is too damn small. Because Jim told Joyce, (the boys guessed), and Joyce must have called around, because when they got home Nancy wheeler was standing outside their door with an air mattress, a shopping bag full of some twin size linens, and a bag from melvads, just of “what her and her mom thought max might have forgotten or might need. there's some uh, snacks too. whoppers are mikes favorite so-”.

And max settles in easy. Eddie took her to the mall that Saturday to pick up some “posters and shit” for her new room, because “babe come on it’s the least we can do, that room is fucking sad”. she replaced a couple of the tapes she left at Neil and Susans, and even got 2 new ones. she picked up some posters for her wall, some stickers. some fuckin girly bath shit or something, Eddie was trying not to get a headache from how much that store smelt like one of Santas elves hurled, and some odds and ends clothing wise. (”you forgot your raincoat but not your boots?” “no you need a real jacket for the cold its fucking November your bother would kill me come on, pick one” “how many pairs of socks- no honey we don't do laundry that fast you need another pack... maybe two”) 

and billy spends the morning calling around the thrift stores, flea markets, the god damn churches, to see if anyone has anything for a bedroom set for a teenaged girl. saint some-fucin-one had a dresser he could come get, and the sally anne had a decent bed frame and a desk too (fuck the kid needs a desk doesn't she, billy realized), and he saw a little nightstand on someones curb that was fucking fine condition just needed a good cleaning. but he had to bite the full price bullet on a mattress and that hurt a little but okay. and... shit she’d like that rug. it'll make it more homey. the kids had to hard, she deserves it.

after everything they were a little low on their usual comfy pocket change and 80 bucks into the shoebox fund, and fuck were they so lucky to have it. max was overjoyed, and so happy with it. and she looked so relaxed, so comfortable. 

they never even mentioned kids. not even in a far out future way, but here they were.

max slowly casually slips into calling billy her brother. and then one day her and Eddie are getting tacos on the way home from a movie billy thought was “way too stupid to sit through, you two dorks have fun” and they bumped into one of max’s classmates and she introduced Eddie as her bother in law and fuck, did Eddie feel a lot of things at that. not as many as when he heard her on the phone say “sorry my brothers hosting his d+d thing tonight and its like, a family thing so I can’t”

the apartment is a weird mix of metal and Kate bush, but they’re all so comfortable with eachother.

Eddie hosts his D+D nights in the apartment and the kids are still a little bit skittish around Billy but he’s getting better. He stays out of the way, spends most of the nights in the bedroom, but occasionally comes out to make the party snacks and put out some water or iced tea. Interrupts with a kiss to Eddie’s cheek, saying “time to take a fucking break there’s snacks on the counter”, virtually court ordering a 10 minute recess so he can ask Eddie to catch him up on the campaign. And Max, who only really comes out of her room on these nights to bully Lucas and sit with El on the sidelines spectating (making fun of the boys), realizes that Billy doesn’t give a fuck what the campaign is, or how it’s playing out, he just wants to see how excited Eddie gets talking about his hobby, watching with soft eyes as he gets the full eddie munson: DM experience. And it seems like even if he doesn’t understand, Billy does encode what Eddie tells him, with the questions he asks and the comments he makes. Her brother is in love. And yeah she kinda knew that, they did move in together after all, but he’s really, really in love, Max realizes.

Billy’s a better cook than Eddie. And Billy isn’t great by any means, but Billy had to learn how to keep himself alive at a young age, whereas Eddie kinda always had Wayne looking out for him. So Eddie’s in charge of toast and coffee in the morning (which he burns more often than he’d like to admit) and Billy does the honors of real breakfast on the weekends, when they aren’t rushing around for work and school. Billy usually handles Dinner, and Eddie tries to help, god knows, but he’s a safety hazard and a half, as max has screamed while shooing him out of the kitchen many times.

Eddie takes good care of Billy too. It’s like he reads his mind, face getting worried and asking if he’s okay out of no where, catching a triggered Billy before even billy knows sometimes. Eddie takes care of Billy emotionally, which Billy’s never had before. He holds his hand and rubs his knuckles and promises him the world and delivers it. Max never really saw Billy cry before she started living with them. And it’s only happened twice, but she’s caught Eddie holding Billy while he honest to god Sobs, and she thinks it should probably freak her out but it’s kinda comforting to know Billy feels safe enough to do that, and that Eddie’s gonna take care of him.

Max thinks that maybe this is what normal parents are like. Loving each other, looking out for each other, taking care of each other. Trying to appreciate the others interests.

And they support her too. Much to her discomfort. Her report card is on the fridge, (held down by a magnet that’s a bottle opener) and both young men had stars in their eyes that she did so well her first quarter living with them because that means they haven’t fuck up too bad. (“It’s 4 Bs and 3 A’s Billy it’s not that great” “it’s better than I ever did! Fuck, Eddie get over here look that this! Isn’t this amazing!” “Yeah max holy shit! I had to re do senior year like, twice, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten an A in my life!”) Eddie was digging through the drawers desperately looking for anything magnetic to hang it up the second he finished talking. Eddie never really got into skating himself but some of his friends did. He gives max rides to the park a few towns over some evenings, swears it’s no sweat because he likes the record store here better anyway. And sometimes cassettes just show up on her desk randomly, songs and albums she maybe said she liked once on the radio in Billy’s car.

At first max doesn’t know how to interact with Wayne. She never knew her grandparents too well, and neither her dad or step dad were worth their weight in salt. So the first dinner he’s around she’s a little stiff. So stiff that Billy takes her aside to make sure she’s alright.

But Wayne’s alwyas been good with skittish kids with fucked up families, and he gets on her good side pretty fast. Wayne helps max replace her old skateboard wheels that Sunday.

It’s not a normal family, Max is well aware of that. But it’s the best she’s got, and the best she’s ever had. She likes it fine enough.

#mungrove #billy hargrove #Eddie munson

[unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin]

Comfort

Soft Yandere!MJF x Reader

Summary: Max comes home to see you, and you get some awful news

An: I got this idea from an addition from @wrestlingfanfiction01 on my Basic Headcanons for Yandere MJF

Taglist: @fiskers7136 @peachmango-kombucha @kcloveswrestling @bellalutionn @xkennyxomegax @tummyyellin @cuzimacomedian @auburnwrites @damnnhausen @thesusbunny @blaquekittycat @writtingrose

The house was oddly quiet when Max walked in. There was no music playing, no tv, the laundry wasn’t going, just dead silence.

“Y/n?” He called out, taking his jacket off and exploring the house to try and find you. He looked in the kitchen, living room, your bedroom, the half finished nursery, and each of the bathrooms.

“Where is that woman?” Max mumbled before walking to the back door. He glanced through the window on the door, and saw a body on their knees in the garden. “Jesus..” he groaned before pushing the door open.

“Y/n!” He called out. You turned at the sound, smiling when you saw Max. “What are you doing?” He questioned while helping you to your feet. He helped to steady you as your very pregnant stomach threw your sense of balance off.

“Just pulling some weeds.” You brushed the dirt off of yourself before giving Max your full attention.

“I thought I told you no yard work until after baby’s here.” You reached up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, giving him a kiss.

“Well maybe I wouldn’t have to if someone wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.”

Max just rolled his eyes before walking you back into the house. You went to the kitchen to wash your hands while Max went to relax in the living room. Once you were done you made your way to sit with him, cuddling into his side.

“How was your day?”

“Uneventful.” You mumbled, resting your face in his side. You both sat in silence for a bit before Max’s phone started to ring. “Nooo” you groaned as he moved a bit to answer the phone.

“Hello?” He gave you a playful glare as he answered. In response you stuck your tongue out at him. “This is her husband. She doesn’t have her own phone, but she’s right here.” He held the phone out for you. You were surprised as you did t normally get many phone calls, but you took the phone from him.

“Hello?”

“Is this y/n Maxwell, daughter of y/m/n?”

“Yes, is something wrong?” You sat up at the mention of your mother. She didn’t care for Max, but you both had always been close.

“This morning your mothers body was found in the local creek. We believe she had been dead for 10 hours.” You felt your heart stop at the mama words. This had to be a joke, there was no way she was gone.

“W-what?” You whispered. You felt a tear run down your check, and at that point Max grabbed the phone from you. He quickly finished the conversation before hanging up and pulling your body to his chest.

“He said he would be getting a hold of your sibling to have them take care of the funeral.” He told you as you buried your face in his chest. Because of your stomach you couldn’t climb on his lap, but he did his best to hold you as you cried.

With how your face was covered you didn’t see the small smile on his own. After he caught your mother telling you that Max had to much control over your relationship, he knew he had to make adjustments, and that phone call had assured him his plan worked and she wouldn’t be an issue anymore.

#aew #fanfiction #request #mjf x reader #maxwell jacob friedman x reader #MJF #yandere #oneshot #aew oneshot #yandere!mjf

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Beyond the Blood Tie - Chapter Five.

Another update to see us into the weekend, besties. We have a new character to introduce, and a few little revelations, too. Enjoy! :)

Previous Chapters - One  Two, Part One Part Two  Three  Four

Words - 5,414

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

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Edie's POV

Ahhh, shit. You know when you’re so tired, you don’t notice that you didn’t shut the curtains all the way together the night before, and then you wake up to a beam of light hitting you right in the eyes? Welcome to my morning, everyone.  

The alarm goes off shortly after, prompting my agitated grumble. I don't like leaving my pit after only five hours of sleep, but I do have good reason to. I'm going to Vic's for breakfast, to help him enjoy his first day of a long-deserved vacation period from work. He isn't actually going away anywhere; he says the only thing that is calling him is the hammock in his back yard. I haven't seen him for two weeks because our shift patterns have clashed (he works with his brother at the twenty-four-hour grocery store they own) so I'm looking forward to catching up with him.

Eventually sliding out of bed and then falling over where I left my clothes when I got in, I snort laugh at my own ridiculousness, rub a newly carpet burned knee, getting back up again and taking my laundry to put in the wash. I treated myself to a new machine recently, after the one Aileen kindly gave me eight years ago finally gave up. Her husband Mike is one of these guys who enter all those competitions you never think you're going to win, and wins them. He won the new washer dryer just six months after winning a Kawasaki motorbike he and Aileen gave to their eldest son as a twenty fifth birthday gift. Some people have all the luck. Well, I guess I benefitted from their generosity, so I have little cause for complaint.

After putting my clothes in with a few towels and other jeans awaiting the wash, I then go and take care of washing myself. I'm a low maintenance girl, I don't wear makeup unless I'm out socially, and I let my hair dry naturally almost always since it has a nice natural wave to it. I'm still in love with lilac, even if the dead guy I’m punishing continually pokes at me over it. It would seem someone else isn't keen on it either, when he sees me roughly half an hour later.

"Dear god, what did you do to your hair?" Vic exclaims, after swinging open the screen door to me on the porch.

"I fancied a change, I dunno. I never went through that dye your hair crazy colours phase as a teenager.” Heading up the step, I pause to kiss his cheek, continuing into his lovely, rustic home.

"Then why the hell did you start now?" he teases with amusement, giving my damp tresses a little tug as I walk into the kitchen, the smell of bacon, sausages and pancakes becoming stronger with every step, until I'm sitting before the array of goodies at the table, pouring coffee from the pot for us both while Vic fetches the syrup from the microwave. Just as I'm putting the pot down again on its stand, my eyes are distracted by the images on the television. I didn't get chance to turn on the TV and check out the news before I left.

"What the actual fuck? Woah!" I exclaim as I see the images being streamed live from a gas station up in flames, Vic pausing to listen to the news caster before taking a seat opposite me.

"I guess the protesters finally decided to take action. How this kind of behaviour will help though, well I don't know.” Because of course our ties to the East (and their fuel) were well and truly severed over a hundred years ago, the USA has had to use their own stocks of gasoline since vehicles began to be imported again (all Japanese cars, one of the only manufactures left after the disaster) and whereas we all know we've got enough fuel, the USAC are whacking up the costs so much that people just cannot afford it.  

You'd be honestly surprised at the amount of people who use alternative transport, like bikes, or in more rural areas people even use horses instead of having to pay for gas. The prices of it are the reason alone why I don't drive, preferring to either walk or use the bus. Cabs are pricey too, again because of the gasoline.

Okay, I think I need to put the brakes on here and back up to explain a few terms you're about to hear me and Vic discussing. The USAC stands for the United States Authority Coalition, and that is this day and ages' version of a government. It was all formed many years ago by the men and women who became the leaders and figureheads of their towns (or rather settlements) after the disaster, needing to form some kind of unity and routine in law from state to state.  

As the title of the organisation suggests, it is run in coalition. Also, we no longer have a police force, but what is known as the Enforcement Officiating Unit, with Enforcement Officers (or E.O's as they're more commonly known as) instead of police officers. They're fully armed and very efficient at their jobs, and usually great people who are very un-corrupt. That differs a lot from how law enforcement used to be, so I'm told.

"They're ridiculous, to just set it on fire and waste the fuel like that! The USAC will just put up the prices even more now. Oh lord, is that footage of another one? Jesus!" I exclaim, after the coverage switches to a scene over the other side of town to where another gas station has gone up in flames. I just hope no one was seriously hurt, I really do.

"You're right, they will if people keep on setting the stations alight. I haven't checked the national news yet, so I don't know if the protestors are doing the same in other states.” He grabs the remote to change stations to CNN, where we find that gas stations in California, Washington, Virginia and Georgia have also been subjected to arson attacks.  

As we eat our breakfast, watching the news unfolding as Enforcement Officers arrive to the scenes en masse to control the unrest, we witness it all becoming a hell of a lot worse. The arson attacks lead to protestors fighting with the E.O's, rubber bullets being fired left and right, enforcement dogs barking at the end of their leashes, burning debris being hurled into the road and endangering people trying to pass the area safely, mounted E.O's falling off their startled horses and being dragged up the street. It is, without a doubt, fucking mayhem out there right now.  

"Good golly! Someone's going to be busy over the next few weeks!" Vic exclaims, nudging my leg with his soft slipper covered foot, shaking his head at the images on the screen.

"I was just thinking that! I will be, you're right, which means we're probably going to have to take in two per chamber. Great, that's all I need, a human sack of crap and the vampire to deal with," I mutter into my pancakes.

"Oh, you got a vampire in right now? Ooooh, I don't envy you! What's he like?" Vic questions curiously, spiking a sausage with his fork and using it to mop up some maple syrup.

"He's an asshole," I begin while chewing through a mouthful of bacon. He laughs immediately, probably more at the disgruntled look on my face more than anything. "Seriously, he can't just take the punishment. He yaks on and fucking on at me, trying to bring me down or figure me out, but that's not all. The first night I was in there with him, he tricked me and I ended up getting attacked." I then finish, watching Vic's eyes widen.

"He attacked you? Son of a bitch!" he exclaims angrily. "But you look alright, I can't see any scars on you or anything."  

"The vampire we have overseeing his punishment gave me a few drops of her blood to heal me. That's where it was, all along here. He nearly tore a chunk of me away with him, it took three silver throwing stars to the back flung by Ahmed to get him to let go," I further explain.

"Well, I hope you gave him hell for it," Vic states, sipping his coffee.

"I went back in there and chopped both of his arms off," I reply casually, making him burst into hysterics.

"That's my girl," he praises fondly, shaking his head as he laughs. "How fast did they grow back, by the way? I don't know much about these vamps; they creep me out too much to even want to learn anything about 'em!"  

"They're about half grown back now. It'll take time because we're not letting him rest properly or giving him what he requires in blood either, in an effort to keep him under control. I haven't noticed him getting much weaker in the week he's been with us for now, though. He's trying to play mind games with me, and he's winning. He can feel what I'm feeling, you see. When he attacked me, it wasn't to hurt me, it was to get his blood into me. Vampires can form blood ties with humans, which is something I've been reading up on since it happened.  

“What happens is, that when their blood goes in your system and vice versa, they're able to pick up on your emotions, just like I can pick up on some of his, flashes of his memories, too. According to what I've read, the more blood in the system, the stronger the bond. He only bled into the wound he inflicted on my shoulder a little though, so it isn't that bad," I explain for him.

"Well, he sounds like he's all rainbows and bunny rabbits," he begins sarcastically and somewhat darkly. "Won't he get further punishment for doing that to you, attacking you for such gain as this blood tie?"  

"Yeah, he did. Me chopping his arms off. No, seriously though, there's nothing anyone can do now he's done it. It'll last for a while, apparently, and then it'll begin to fade after time unless the blood is topped up, which it definitely won’t be. I just have to deal with him playing with my head for the next seven weeks, which I'm not looking forward to. I'm a week in, well eight days to be exact and already, I just can't wait to see the back of him," I grumble sourly. I really cannot fucking stand that vampire.

"Why'd you let him get to you though, letting him play with your head? If you just ignored him, no matter what he felt, you wouldn't be dignifying him with a response to anything nasty he has to say to you. I assume that's what he's doing, being spiteful?" Spiteful. Yep, that’s Angel, alright. He is spite personified.  

"See I tried doing that, but he's too smart for it to work. Also, some of the things he tells me are so interesting that I find myself drawn in, and it's hard to stop that. And yeah, he's spiteful. He rips it out of me over everything he can pick at. I’m an idiot, my tits are too small, my hair looks stupid,” I begin.

"I agree with him about the hair. Ouch, little tyke!" he interrupts me with, receiving a foot to his knee under the table for his comment over my hair.

"I could continue with the insults, but I'm not going to bother. It's him picking up on shit that I really don't like," I voice, while reaching for my coffee.

"I know I always taught you to never be a quitter, but if this is really bothering you then why not just switch with another punisher or something?" he suggests, giving me a concerned look.

"Because of what you always taught me, that quitting is for losers and I'm no loser. Also, doing that shows him that he's won, that I can't handle his taunting and I am not having that. No one does that shit to Edie Bailey and wins, no one. I just have to stop myself from finding the things he says interesting, because he's working me out so much more than I even realise, and he's dropping things that I think he's worked out will interest me. Like I say, all mind games. Vampires are famed for it, so I've heard," I reply strongly, determined that I will not let him get the better of me.

"Well, you stick to your guns, and keep me informed over how it's going. Man, is it a beautiful day out there. I think I'm going to get out and cut the lawn, and then move a few of those shrubs over to the shade as they're not doing well over in the sunnier part," he says, changing the subject to that of his beloved back yard. He really puts in the effort, and as a result it's incredibly beautiful.

"Do you want a hand?" I offer, getting up and taking his empty plate with mine over to the sink, running water into the plugged basin when I get there.

"You, you who hates gardening and leaves the grass until it's almost as tall as she is before she goes out to mow it?" he snorts, laughing with much amusement. It's at this point I have to proudly pull my phone from my pocket and show him the pictures of how my garden currently looks. "Oh wow, who'd you pay to do all that?" he adds when I show him the pictures of the cut grass and the newly dug flower beds around the perimeter of my yard.

"I'm proud to announce that this was all my own effort. I realised that after finishing my decorating project I was left with a lack of anything to do, and you know I like to keep busy, so I thought fuck it, no more excuses, I'm doing the yard work! And that's just what I did," I tell him proudly, returning my cell to my pocket with a smile.

"In that case then, there's an extra pair of gardening gloves in the shed, you go find them while I clear up in here. You don't have to do the dishes, go on, go." I’m shooed away from the sink, Vic grabbing the dishcloth and waving it at me. I do just that, heading through to the back door, scratching his lovely old dog Sadie on the head as I pass her, lying in her usual spot across the back porch.  

I have a really nice rest of the morning with Vic, helping him move the shrubs and also planting a few of the trays of flowers he has waiting and ready, even being given the ones he has no room for to plant in my own bare beds. On my way home, I take a bus to the local hardware store and plant nursery, buying myself some more bits and pieces that I have to take home in a cab, to the tune of thirty dollars for a ten-minute journey. Ouch, looks like the gasoline crisis is much worse than I'd envisaged. Envisaged, my word of the day and there we go, I just used it.

I then spend an hour in my own garden getting everything planted, remembering what Vic said to me about not watering them when the sun is at its hottest, as the water will heat up and scorch the plants, so make a mental note to go back out there this evening with the hose pipe and give them a good dousing when the ball of fire in the sky has set. After fixing myself a huge sandwich and a bowl of fruit for lunch, I then settle down on the couch and have myself a bit of a nap, setting my cell alarm to go off at 6pm, so I have plenty of time to do chores and get ready for work.  

Just as my eyes are blinking shut, I get one of those strange hallucinations I've been having, one of those flashes of memory being played through my head because of the blood of the vampire they belong to being in my body. The memory I see as ever is through his eyes, of a beautiful woman with a pretty tattoo across her throat smiling at him, kissing his shoulder, reaching to run her hand over the head of the sweet little baby he holds on his lap. It’s gone almost as quickly as it came.  

I wonder if they were his family, when he was human? Probably. Actually, I don't even care, if I'm honest. I'm more bothered about getting in a few more hours of sleep before I have to go back to work and be taunted by him all over again.

Angel's POV

"No way, no fucking way! I ain't going in there with him, that's a fucking vampire, fuck off! No, no, no, no! I don't even belong here, those fucking E.O cunts started on me!" Those are the screams that disturb me from my rest, my state of switched off, which is all I'm able to achieve. I haven't slept properly in a week because of these damn chains around my ankles and throat, and now I have to suffer a problem with overcrowding here at the Correctional Department, because of wide scale rioting over gasoline prices or something. I didn't pick up much of the talk from outside of this chamber I've been hanging in for just over a week, since I've been resting as best I can between punishments. I feel weak and tired almost permanently, and now I have to share my quiet space with this noisy fucking human.

"He's bound in silver so he can't even move, let alone get to you. You should have thought about all this last night when you were torching a gas station and beating down female E.O's, shouldn't you? Dumb bastard,” Ahmed, the gigantic Arab tells the man as he hauls him in and then shackles him to the ceiling and floor a few feet down from where I’m standing.

"Wow, brave man attacking a female. What, the male E.O's too scary for you, pussy boy? Humans like you nauseate me," I spit coldly, without actually looking at him.

"And that's about the only thing to come out of your mouth in the last week that I agree with." Ahmed states, while pointing a finger at me, before turning and leaving the chamber.

"A vampire lecturing me about morals towards women, hah!" the man (and I use that term loosely) next to me exclaims, while I turn my head all I can to eye him.

"Even I draw the line at striking a female. You want to show that you're top dog? Find the biggest guy you can and beat the crap out of him. Don't pick on a woman thinking just because they've got tits, you'll win. You're about to find that out in painful detail, though," I smirk, before shutting myself down again and not listening to anything else he has to say while I prepare for Edie's arrival. I could feel the sunset a few hours ago (we have a built-in sense for sunrise and sunset) so there's only another couple to wait before she gets here, and I'll be in worse pain than I am all of the time. Now, I suppose you're thinking I'm quite the hypocrite for what I just said to the human, but let me explain.

You're probably thinking how I could have those kinds of morals when just last week, I attacked Edie. I didn't attack her to hurt her, I attacked her to bleed into her, and that's it. I would have done it to any punisher I'd have had, male or female. So, as I was saying, I never hit women when I was alive and I'm not about to start now I'm dead. Sure, I adhere to far fewer morals than I did when I was human, because being dead has made me have little to no conscience, but not striking women is something that stuck with me.

It's a coward's pursuit, men beating women specifically because they're women. It fails to impress. I know I expressed a desire to strangle my punisher when I first came in, but hey, the bitch had just chopped my arms off. I was annoyed. Mentally unravelling her will suit me fine, though. I have to find some way to keep myself amused and make her time in here as unpleasant as possible. I'm not taking this lying down. Chained up maybe, but lying down? No. I won't verbally submit unless I'm forced to by liquid silver.  

I'm only being unpleasant to her because she's torturing me, she and the rest of the humans here have me in a position I don't want to be in. Otherwise, I'm pretty much indifferent to her. She doesn't much interest me.

Alright, fine. I’m lying my fangs off.  

When I tell her she's ugly and trashy, it's to dent her and nothing more. She's very attractive to me, she has beautiful blue eyes, muscular arms, a nice ass, and I know I'd enjoy fucking her. God damn, right now I’d piledrive her right through this steel floor, I’m so fucking horny. I don’t like going without sex, it makes me cranky. There's her anger, too. I really like it. It arouses me, and I like the fact that she fights back verbally against me, even though she can't win.  

She has tremendous spirit, but I still don't like her all that much. Mainly because she's beating me senseless five nights out of seven, obviously. Still though, I'd like to haul her off to bed and fuck her for about a week. What pisses me off is the knowledge that I can't. I could seduce her, absolutely no problem. I've done it to vampire women who've hated me in the past, and I know that even through her curiosity, Edie hates me for definite.

I just can't have sex with a human full stop. I have a slight problem with it, and have had that problem manifest itself a grand total of fifty-three times now. Quite simply, if you're a human and have sex with me, you won't survive it. I can't control myself at the point of orgasm, suffering a complete loss of control, and whoever I'm with gets drained dry. This is why I don't have sex with humans any longer, and if I slip up and do, it’s always with the false belief that 'this time, I will control myself’ before I bring them to my bed. But still, they never leave it alive, and I’m left with a corpse to bury before the dawn.

Despite what you might think, I’ve always felt a little bad for them. Vampires can still feel guilt, but more than that, I just feel pissed off for myself that I can't enjoy living flesh. One good thing about being in here is not having to listen to whichever human EZ brings home with him, screaming her lungs out while he performs the sexual equivalent of bludgeoning upon them. He does it just to piss me off half the time, the bastard. I still miss that bastard's presence, of course I do, he’s my brother.

I miss Ursula the most, though. I miss picking a period in time, a specific year or even month and asking what she was doing at that very point. I've learned an awful lot from just sitting and listening to her talk about times throughout the thousand years plus she's walked this earth. As a human, I wasn’t the most intelligent of people really. That shit had changed drastically in my death.  

So yeah, I suppose this is why I'm so hard on Edie, other than the fact she's putting me through massive amounts of pain. She doesn't interest me to talk to, and I want to fuck her and I can't. There you go. I can feel my mood getting lower as the hours pass now, a week with only half the blood I should have had making me feel like shit. Yet another reason behind my vile mood, I'm hungry and tired. I'm not overly friendly, but I'm not usually this angry. I'm merely bad tempered some of the time.  

As I've said before, I don't mind humans all that much, and in my line of work I have to be people friendly to a degree. Some assume just because vampires are dead that we need no money. In a way that is true, but you will find a large population of us who actually do have jobs. My present career differs greatly from the one I had while I was alive. I wouldn't want that again now even if I could have it. Being an outlaw without the MC, nah. Brotherhood was part of the reason I joined in the first place, that sense of belonging. I haven’t even ridden a motorcycle since before I was turned. No point, with how fast I move.

My current job is something where I can put my artistic side to use. I've always been talented with art and drawing, something that Ursula brought out in me more (she is a talented artist and then some, the portraits she draws look like they're photographs) until I became so good that I decided I needed to do something with it, so I did. I am one of the three owners and operators of the all vampire run tattoo shop, After Dark. Yeah, it’s a cheesy name, but it fits, since we obviously don’t open during daylight hours.

It's actually a thriving shop if you're willing to only have your appointment between the hours of sunset and sunrise, mainly because as vampires we're much quicker than humans in the application of tattoos. This is what makes us popular, as well as the fact that the designs by me, Eric and Salvatore (Sal to his friends) are the best in the whole of Las Vegas. Our skills cannot be beaten, hence why we've a waiting list that stretches into June next year. Even with me being away for two months and having to cancel all my appointments, it won't dent the business much. I'm good enough to wait for.  

Ahhh, I smell a woman coming my way, a very specific one, too. Edie is here. I can detect her scent as soon as she walks into the building, even from down here. I know where all the humans are when they're here at any given time, because I've picked up on their scents.

"Well, what do we have here then? According to your arrest sheet, you're a man who likes to pick on female E.O's, including stabbing one in her left breast with a broken bottle, and throwing another into a pile of burning debris. Oh, I'm going to have so much fun with you," she chuckles, after walking in and approaching the human, his rap sheet in her hand.

"If you think I can be intimidated by some little bitch with pastel purple hair and no tits, then you've got another thing coming," the human replies with a snort, spitting on the floor.

"Funny, that. He said more or less the same to me when he came in, when he had both arms still,” she replies, gesturing to me with a pointed finger. Aha, that was pretty clever, I'll give her that.

He’s defiant in the face of her assertion. "Well, I'm not him.”  

"No, you're not. You're several rungs below him in the food chain, in fact. If I have no problems putting him in his place, you don't pose any issues for me. Now, shut your mouth. Actually, you've no need to. I'll shut it for you.” Recoiling her fist, she swings hard, punching him straight in the jaw, her right first following the left before the left follows again and so on, until the chamber is filled with the sound of her raining blows upon his face.  

"I'd have loved to have gotten my hands on you out there in the riots, I'd have torn you to bits in five seconds flat, bitch," he taunts her with as soon as she stops punching him.

"You really think so, huh? Okay, I'll let you keep on thinking that." She changes up her attack tactics to kicking, spinning off one foot to throw the other straight into the side of his ribcage. His beatdown continues while he carries on taunting her, using anything he can to try and piss her off, with none of it working. He's truly pathetic, but it’s as I hear his words and taunts that I suddenly I’m given something to think about. I have lowered myself in the insults I have personally thrown at Edie. Hearing them all handed back to her through the mouth and words of a human, and such a lesser human to myself, it's made me see that in handing her the same insults, I am lowering myself to his level. Pond scum level. Fuck. Ursula would be ashamed, and that is what smacks me the hardest.

I know what she'd say, I can hear her voice in my head. 'Angel, we do not lower ourselves in our retort to petty insults. Unless you can say something of significant cleverness with that mouth, it is best you keep it shut. Be dignified in your spite, my child.' That's exactly what she'd say to me, I know it. Messing with her head over her intellect, or lack of it, and getting her to say far more than she wants to me at times are all I should resort to. I know Ursula would tell me to just take my punishment without even acknowledging the human at all, that as a vampire I must find that aloofness to them and the situation. I struggle with it, though, that part of my nature is yet to mature, even though I turned a hundred this year.

I think I've got a little better, so much in the fact I can at least tolerate a human without wanting to kill them if they annoy or piss me off (for the most part) even if I can't control that impulse when having sex with them. This is why I don't do that any longer. Fuck, I'd do anything to fuck someone right now. Not that I'd be much good. I'm surprised I have a libido at all, I feel so weak, and lack of blood means I couldn't even get hard. We physically can’t, unless we’re fed.  

The constant touching of silver to my skin is enough to drain me of my strength, Ursula's blood that I drank from her wrist before I was brought here now all worn off. Vampires seldom drink of each other, but when we do this is the only way, a creator giving their offspring blood if they need it. Any other dead blood will kill us. That was what made me that extra touch malevolent and powerful when I first arrived. It is also why I'm stronger than most vampires my age (EZ for example) because I was made with such ancient blood.

Still though, that strength fades from me with each day that passes. I have to endure sharing space in this chamber with many more humans, who all get on my last nerve, and of course, I also have to endure more pain from Edie, loathing her for every single ounce she inflicts upon me with such gusto.  

I was wrong when I said she wasn't built for this job, for she's very enduring with her punishment. She doesn't tire, and with each time she inflicts pain upon me or a human that comes here and passes on again, her tenacity grows. She shows me two things in the first three weeks I'm here. The first is that she's much stronger than I even realised, and the second is as that while her strength remains constant, mine continues to weaken.

#angel reyes #angel reyes x ofc #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes smut #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes fic #vampire!angel reyes #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

[niennanir]

Hurricane Ian did a number on my neighborhood. We had over 24 hours of heavy rain, more than I’ve ever seen from a hurricane in 40 years. Houses a few streets over were under water a couple of inches. We lost a truly distressing amount of grand trees and both of my trees suffered a lot of damage. The storm, technically, didn’t ‘hit’ here and wasn’t forecast to be even half as strong as it was and also didn’t behave in any way it was predicted to which is how you know that what we actually know about meteorology as a science is basically nothing and I’d do well to remember that when these morons start throwing darts at the wall to make their guesses. 

Telling the story of a hurricane is a little like telling the story of a party at which you had probably slightly more alcohol than was good for you and then some bozo roofied your drink. Everything is a blur and when you come back to reality there’s this vague sense of unease because you know things went sideways but you’re 200% unsure exactly how.

I need to regrade my lawn, this became apparent when, about hour nine of the hurricane, my pump and french drain could no longer stay ahead of the water pooling in the low spot of the back yard and water got into my lanai and then into my laundry room and studio.

 It wasn’t a distressing amount of water, except for the distress of having to mop everything three times. I hope it’s three, I haven’t got as far as three yet but everything’s still dirty.

My neighbor, bless his brilliant working class heart, declared that he’d thought of a way to dig some trenches in my lawn to divert the water out to the street and would I be upset if he tore up my grass? Not nearly as upset as I would be if the water got any higher in my house, go for it, ‘A’. He came back 5 minutes later with a 4 wheel drive pickup and spun the tires out the entire length of my yard. There is mud splattered everywhere but A has proven well over that he’s a good guy to have on hand in a crisis because the water started going down immediately.

Shortly after this my generator conked out. 

Somewhere around hour 15 most of the branches blew off my maple tree, A’s tool shed blew down the block and one of the grand trees on the corner blew out by it’s roots, blocking the entire street and also one of the storm drain.

I feel like the folks in charge of our storm sewers maybe need to look at capacity. This wasn’t storm surge. This was flat out more rain than the sewers could handle. The water could have run off, neither the creek nor the canal broke their banks and that means we would have had less damages to both people and plants with better drainage, something to take up with the local government I think.

At about hour twenty two I completely freaked out because that’s when the cell phones went down. The power had been out for a few hours by this point but the idea of not even being able to see where the hurricane currently was and how much longer it planned on hanging around sent me right over the deep end. I’m generally really good with the contingencies but I’m not really good when plans A through G go completely FUBAR. I do not have any ideas for a plan H, I’m currently taking suggestions. 

When the storm finally passed there was water almost knee deep in the street. There were actual schools of minnows in my driveway

My least favorite part of any hurricane isn’t the hurricane, it’s the cleanup after the hurricane. Cleaning up with no electric and way more mud than is healthy isn’t fun. But on the up side I live in an awesome neighborhood and as soon as the wind died down everyone was out starting in on the worst of it. One of A’s kids cleared the small debris from my front lawn and I cleaned out another neighbor’s fridge so it wouldn’t form sentient life. And one of the neighbors farther down the street brought his skid steer down and pulled the tree out of the street and away from the sewer. We do a decent job of looking out for each other. The Pub on the corner didn’t have power but they fired up the gas griddle and made $10 dinners to clear out their fridges before everything spoiled. 

This wasn’t actually the worst storm I’ve ever done. (That was the blizzard of ‘78) It’s not even second place. It was the longest and I found myself at several points wishing for storms more like Hurricane Charlie. It’s been a week and a day, I got electric back last night and internet restored today and right now I’m sitting on my couch in the A/C watching Mythbusters reruns. So I guess I can’t complain.

A few places around town are going to have to work hard to get back to normal, including the Venice Theater.

but we’ll do what we always do. Another week of cleaning and the fundraisers will start. I’m told several groups out of state are already hosting fundraising events for us. I have a list on my fridge of all the things I can do better for next time, so I guess that’s the next step.

#hurricane ian #hurricane nienna

[meltingpenguins]

The Hero Unraveled! (A Hero Unmasked! FanFic)

A little OneShot to celebrate the 5th anniversary of The Hero Unmasked!'s original release. <3

Firebrand's having an epiphany and a bit of a crisis.

(Mild spoilers for the game, female MC)

Well, this was certainly unexpected and unplanned. The only question Firebrand had now was if it was unwelcomed too. Should he actually tell her the next time he'd see her? She knew his identity (admittedly, he was glad and a bit surprised she hadn't ratted him out yet), so this could provide some much needed leverage. True, he had anticipated she'd find out who he was one of these days, but… No, that wasn't right. He had anticipated that the Swashbuckler would find out who he was. But this wasn't actually Swash, was it? It was, Firebrand was certain of it, her twin sister. All because he had decided to clean his apartment after that little totally-not-a-date-according-to-not-Swash date at the Golden Eagle to clear his mind. Just sort through some old papers, try not to think about the evening (in part to not get angry about Lee, in part because he was maybe still a little flustered about Swash asking him out for a date), that kind of thing. Maybe figure out where half of his socks went, because he was certain they didn't get lost in the laundry. This plan had panned out quite well until he had fished up some receipt from last summer for an odd job at the edge of Dockerstown. Little terraced house in one of the odd folds of the city, with an overgrown backyard chaotic enough that Firebrand had almost suspected to dig up some archaeological sensations there when he (in his civilian guise, of course) was called in by the neighbors to see about cutting the grass. He faintly remembered the jokes he had cracked about it, but only now, upon finding the receipt, did he remember a peculiar detail. The name of the woman owning that mess of a yard.

Gentry.

Like Ellie Gentry, the tv star who is meant to marry the mayor in about a week's-or-so time, and who currently has been kidnapped. Just that that yard did not belong to 'Ellie Gentry', but to 'Mag Gentry'. The longer Firebrand looked at the receipt, the more bits and pieces he remembered. Things like Miss Mag Gentry's neighbors telling him that, yes, she absolutely looks like Miss Gentry on TV, and if Miss Mag would be two inches taller they might be twins. Things like Miss Mag watching him work from the roof of all things as he faceplanted into her backyard after discovering a long lost flower pot (not an archaeological sensation), and the two even talking about scaling the buildings of the area as workout.

And then something that Lee had said just hours prior to now had sank in, and the epiphany had hit him like an 18-wheeler loaded with sledgehammers.

Lee had, maybe genuinely, maybe jokingly, said that Swash (in disguise, of course) looks so much like Miss Gentry from behind. And hadn't Firebrand often mused that Ellie Gentry was the Swashbuckler? Sure, he had assumed that the Swashbuckler now and back at the station a few weeks ago had been a body-double meant to throw off people suspecting the same thing about Miss Ellie, but this way things started to make a lot more sense. Because a body-double would not have much of a reason to risk their hide like that, no matter how much Swash might have been paying them. But a sister? Especially one who already made a living out of doing almost the same stuff as Swash? A sister would. So, the Swashbuckler he had faced at the station was the genuine deal, the one he faced after the kidnapping was Ellie, stepping in for her sister, who was the one who had gotten kidnapped. No wonder she had kissed him, he doubted the actual Swashbuckler would ever do that, as much as he'd like for that to happen.

Firebrand would by lying if he said this hadn't made him a little giddy. Then he had remembered that Ellie had quite certainly found out his real name and address. And he would also be lying if he said he wasn't torn right now. He should actually tell her he knew, and press her to not tell Swash. Then again, Ellie was trying to save her sister's live, and Firebrand did have a conscience, no matter what the media said, thank you very much. He couldn't really bring himself to just waltz up to her in such a situation and threaten the two of them. He opted for counting on Ellie not being an asshole. She hadn't been so far, so there was a chance she wouldn't even tell her sister once all of this was over.

There was, however, something about the entire thing that was worrying: Who had gotten the upper hand of the Swashbuckler? That Firebrand himself had managed to ultimately best Swash in the first battle after the kidnapping was obviously due to that being Ellie, not Mag. So, who would have the skill and means to best the actual Swashbuckler? And another thought sank in. Ellie was up against the King of Diamonds. Not that Firebrand thought her incapable (for all he had heard she bested Bloodmist but then bargained her own life against that of the old bloodsucker's hostage or something? Typically Swash, even if it's not really Swash), but it wouldn't hurt to hang around the casino the following night.

Firebrand got up and stretched. He still had to get his mail, and then he needed a good night of sleep in preparation for tomorrow.

This was really a mess.

At least things couldn't get more convoluted than they already were.

#choice of games #the hero unmasked #hero unmasked firebrand #interactive fiction #meeps writes

[nancypullen]

Soooo...

The counter tops are gorgeous, even prettier than I’d hoped. But in true Eastern Shore tradition, the plumber was a no-show.  I didn’t have a functional kitchen last night or this morning.  The plumber called and said he was on his way, but he’s coming from Philadelphia.  Does this make sense to anyone? There wasn’t a plumber in all of Maryland or Delaware that could do this small job?  Mickey could hook it all up  (new faucet, garbage disposal, etc) but that would void the guarantee on the contract. We have to use their guy and apparently he lives in Pennsylvania.  Does this smell like mafia to anyone else?  Just kidding. I don’t want to sleep with the fishes.  If they think the most efficient way to finish the job is to have a guy drive two hours each way, who am I to argue?

I also threw the whole crew for a loop when I told them I only wanted three holes drilled for the faucet.  I don’t want the sprayer.  I never use it, and I’ve never had one that didn’t leak or dribble. Sprayers are overrated.  I just want the center faucet and a hot and cold handle. Simple.  You’d think I’d said I wanted a water pump out in the yard.

  There’s a bit of a language barrier - the counter crew and the plumber are speaking what sounds like Russian but could be any Slavic language.  Yesterday the guy in charge kept asking, “No spray???”  I was tempted to just say, “Fine! Give me spray!”  But I want what I want. No spray. Fast forward to the plumber arriving (earlier than expected, so bravo to him!) and getting to work, then calling out, “Hello? I can not do. No hole for spray.”  I had to convince him that I don’t want it. What is this love affair with sprayers? I don’t hate them. I’m not anti-sprayer. I just don’t need one and I am willing to live with any regret that may pop up in order to have my sweet,simple faucet and two handles centered above my sink, thankyouverymuch!   Geez.  Give me water and leave.  It all seems so straight forward, surely this has got to be one of the most problem-free calls that a plumber gets.  Boy, I sound cranky.  Apparently a day and a half without the use of my kitchen puts me in a bad mood. I need to do something crafty. That’ll put me right.  Yesterday while the counter guys worked I got busy with that old cradle from the auction. It was rusty and dusty and so very brown.  I don’t mind brown.  If it was meant to sit beside a fireplace and look vintage, it was just fine.  But this cradle is going to swing in a pastel room where a princess dwells.  So I sanded it a bit and wiped it down, and hit it with a whole can of white spray paint.  It wasn’t quite enough, but it’ll do for now.  I can touch it up later.  I wanted it ready for play this weekend.

White and pink paint and a few rosebuds later it’s ready!  Those roses are leftover from the little canopy I made for her bed in Tennessee, I knew I’d use them again some day.  The baby doll has open and close eyes (a preference of the little miss) and a mouth that takes a pacifier and a bottle. She can decide if it’s a girl or boy and give it a name.  I’m personally hoping for a girl named Princess Petunia. I also started on a piece for the entry hall. Oh, that sounds too grand. The front hallway?  The space just inside the front door?  Whatever, you know what I mean. There’s a weird little corner there and I didn’t want to put another table there, seemed too busy.  I stuck a big fake plant in one of the baskets I used in my laundry room in Mt. Juliet and that was a start. There was already a nail way up on the wall so I hung the window frame thing that I had in the living room in the old house. It doesn’t work for me either.

It’s not bad, it’s just kind of bulky.  Something smaller and less imposing is needed.  I thought about a mirror there - it would bounce the light from the door back and really brighten things up.  But I don’t have one the right size and shape for that wall and I’m not buying one.  I’m determined to repurpose as much as I can from the Mt. Juliet house.  Since we don’t have the same wall colors or decor that usually means fussing with it and changing it, two of my favorite activities.  BUT, then I remembered those pictures that I bought at the auction- I only wanted the frames, so I was thrilled to pay something like $3 for the lot.  I grabbed one and slathered it with gesso. Then I started slapping everything on there from washi tape to a paper doily. I had a big letter P from the old house and I slapped that on too.

I may add more, take something off, or scrap it all together.  But if I get it right I think it’ll be just the thing to sit above that plant.  We’ll see. Two hours later:

I think I hear the plumber packing up. Oh, JOY!!  He tested the garbage disposal and then started carrying stuff out the door.  Hallelujah! I still have to put the kitchen back together and decide what bits of pretty go where, but that’s the fun part. Stand by for annoying and boring kitchen posts. He’s gone! Sneak peek of the most beautiful sink in the world.

 She was worth the wait.  If you need me I’ll be in the kitchen, blocking anyone trying to come in and mess it up.

[susiron]

I've been roped into dogsitting my neighbor's beagles semi-regularly now and it is such an annoying experience

Every time I go over, I'm just letting her two beagles out into their side yard and then bringing them back in-- sometimes trying to see if they will eat dinner

Which SOUNDS easy, but her dogs are Neurotic Messes.

The one beagle, Ellie, is actually very sweet and we're becoming besties. She's SUPER anxious though and won't eat anything but treats when I'm over. She also pees in the house a little too easily when excited/nervous, and mostly just nervous wees on the patio and then hangs by the door outside, begging to go back in

The other dog, Huck. This dog.

Huck is a nightmare.

This dog spends the Entire visit barking at me. Just a nonstop chorus of beagle noise. He will just glare at me the entire time, barking. Barking. Barking.

Which wouldn't be so bad, if it weren't for the fact that he Refuses To Reenter The House.

The moment this dog is outside and on high alert, barking his ass off at me, he decides he wants nothing to do with the house. I can offer him his (supposedly) favorite treats, or ring the doorbell, or sit inside and wait for him, or so anything and this dog will stay outside barking. At most he might walk into the threshold, before immediately bolting back outside if I try to sneak back out

And to make matters worse, my neighbor has a camera on the roof over her side yard and actively uses it while I'm over there. So I'm trying to get her beagle inside, and she's texting me a laundry list of things I should do to get him in-- literally NONE of these things working. She keeps insisting he'll come for treats, but this dog has only shown an Inkling of interest in a treat if I've thrown it across the yard, far away from me.

The Only way I've been able to get him inside is to either physically HERD him to the door, or get their dog leash and loop it over his head. Which probably isn't helping Huck warm up to me, but after spending half an hour trying to get a beagle that will not stop barking at me inside his damn house, it's all I got.

They also have these bushes he hides behind which makes the act of trying to lasso him-- knowing they're probably watching on camera-- all the more embarrassing

I try to pet and calm him down once I've got him on the leash (he's actually pretty chill once it's on and walks easily), so I'm hoping he eventually will chill out around me

But dear god this dog.

Also, even once he's inside, Huck will try to bolt between my legs to get back out. He's tiny and it's VERY hard to close the door with him doing this. He like doesn't growl or show aggression to me (tho he HAS bitten my dad so I'm wary), but it's like he's just hyperfixated on being outside and it's the only thing he can rationalize the entire time

Ellie's a good girl tho.

#susi howls #susi barks

[gorlsgurlsgirls]

Actually, I didn’t want to do this here bc I don’t want to be another person complaining about their husband, but I don’t have a lot of spare money for therapy at the moment and I don’t feel like I can talk to friends and family. I was nervous about that before I got married - who do I talk to when I need to talk about my marriage, my husband? I went into this not really knowing the answer. But this is my private tumblr damnit, so I need to get this out, if only for me.

Marriage is hard. And I knew it would be, even if I didn’t know specifically how. I’m trying my hardest but I don’t think I’m doing well with it. J works 60 hours a week in shipping/logistics and now that it’s the holidays, he went to work today. Who knows how many more weekends he’ll volunteer. I asked him not to, that I’ve been stressed with Teddy, but he said that the time and a half was too good to turn down. This hurts me. I know money is a huge stress factor, but it feels like he’s putting money before my sanity. I do the grocery shopping, the laundry, the cleaning, and try to manage his spending habits. I don’t want to paint him out as some loser - he is in recovery for opiate addiction from a gym injury years ago and a doctor that was too eager to prescribe him stronger and stronger meds. He’s three years clean, but his addictive behaviors show up in other ways that we’re working on. He didn’t have a good example of a healthy marriage or home/family life growing up, so I know he wants to overcome that. He tries, and I am grateful, even if I am impatient sometimes.

I had a meltdown last night because Teddy was being difficult all day. I am the one who is home with him the most - who wakes up to feed him and take him potty at 6:30 before I get ready for work. I buy his treats, prepare any snacks or puzzles for him during the day, take him for walks, feed him dinner, try to tire him out before bed. I work on training new skills and reinforcing things he’s already learned. There is mostly dirt with some patches of grass in the front yard where he goes potty so I wash his feet off daily and bathe him often. I don’t have a lot of free time bc he’s like a toddler, and some days it’s just very difficult. My MIL is home with him so I try to make things as easy for her as possible, but there are times where I feel like he’s annoying her and my FIL. So I look into obedience classes so I can get some help in the areas where I’m struggling.

I’m grateful that they let us live with them, but I’m so tired of living with my in laws. They should have been divorced 20 years ago and they snap at each other often. Their language can sound harsh sometimes when it’s a normal conversation, so I can never tell if they’re fighting or talking about the weather. My body always assumes fighting, so I try to hide in our room. But that’s difficult with a puppy. I think my FIL has dementia or something. He makes choices that are seemingly based in no logic, and it makes things stressful or difficult for everyone in the house, as he has hoarding tendencies and often leaves messes everywhere.

The house itself is quite old and has random holes and poorly done renovation that lets in bugs and pollen and so much dust. So there’s always always always something that needs to be cleaned. I’m desperate to move out but finally just replaced J’s 20 year old car so much of the savings went to the down payment. We live in Orange County and it’s just a difficult time to try and find a reasonably priced place to live.

I work in special education which wasn’t my plan, but last year the principal asked me to as a favor so I did. Even though I had no experience in special ed, it’s been alright for the most part. My schedule has changed about 8 times at random and they pull me to work wherever is needed, including things that were not in my job description. I have to be an expert on my 7 kids that I am with throughout the day. 4 of the kids are in a class where I hate the teachers management style, and that has led to a lot of disrespect from his students (not my kids) when I’m in there. Nothing gets done about this. I hate the new principal who is a raging jerk and think he’s gods gift to this earth. I don’t think I’ll stay past this year, if I make it through this year.

Earlier this year I decided I had to leave Mormonism. This has been one of the most devastating things in my life to experience. It felt like this was no longer my home, that they were becoming more extreme in beliefs that I couldn’t agree with or reconcile, that my personal beliefs didn’t align with them - the place where I learned my sense of integrity. It’s a strange thing to comprehend. Then after a lot of uncomfortable research, I realized it wasn’t true. I think there are so few experiences in life where you realize that everything is a lie, and I never expected my religion to be one of them. That has led to so much grief and an identity crisis, because the beliefs of Mormonism are so deeply intertwined with your sense of identity, how you move throughout the world, how you see others, what you think is coming after this life, what the purpose of anything is. I don’t have many answers now. I don’t know what this life is all for and must now create my own meaning. I’m also in the process of deconstructing the ways I’ve been hurt by sexuality and a strict purity culture and how this has affected my relationship with my husband. Mormonism also informs my sense of community so I’m not quite sure how to develop one outside of the church and I’m lonely at times. But the worst part is that I don’t feel like I can be honest and tell my family about it, because I am afraid of the way they will treat me, or how our relationship will change. The idea of love, in Mormonism, is somewhat conditional, so I have no idea how they will accept this news, and the ways I will disappoint them.

I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder around this time in 2020 after a difficult year. During a recent first time meeting with a psychiatrist, she informed me that she wasn’t sure this diagnosis was correct. I have often wondered this myself, which has been uncomfortable to think that you’re making things up about yourself, like it’s for attention. She thinks I could have a lesser version of it, as more people are starting to view bipolar as a spectrum, but at the very least, she says it’s some sort of mood disorder. All I know is that several times a year, I think I’m going insane. I try my damndest to keep my emotions under control, and wish I could get credit for how hard I try to be nice to others and to not destroy my own life regularly.

It’s not bad all the time. Some beautiful light is shining through the window right now. I live somewhere that keeps me warm at night and relatively safe. I have people who love me, even if they live far away. I’m listening to good music. Christmas is coming. I’m working on our room with holiday decorations so I can enjoy them. My car is running. We have food to eat. In this moment I am happy to get this all off my chest and give myself space to realize that I am sad about a lot of things, both yearning and contented. That is life, I suppose.

#read for some emo girl hours diary entry stuff i guess #this isn’t really for anyone but it feels so much better to let it out and to be witnessed by someone

[whatdoesshedotothem]

[KISS] Monday 14 August 1837

8 ¼

12 5

she began the thing last night and seemed having too good a kiss to bear I therefore left her and she moaned and fidgeted half the night after and got up this morning out of sorts temper I think also what a queer discomfort making person! very fine morning F75° now at 9 ¼ am in the sun thermometer hanging out at my study window as usual – [asp.t] south – roof hanging close over the window 2ft. + breakfast now at 9 ¼ with Mr. Gray – A- was gone (to Crownest or the school, I suppose of course) – out at 10 with Robert Mann ordering about 1 thing or other – G- can make most of him – so gave him on Saturday the lime and sand fetching concern to manage, and today told him to look after everybody and see that nothing was wanted – he and Jack Green and Sam Booth began to take up the steps under the yew trees to be made do for the conery garden steps – then ordering wit Booth about terrace tower steps and west tower steps the latter to be placed on Thursday – then with Frank and Mark Hepworth trenching in clay from where the terrace entrance gates are to be, in the hall croft just under my walk-gate – told Robert Mann to talk to me some other time about Mytholm middle back cottage which he had the key of and took his son David to look at yesterday  I hinted at Robert living in the farm house that Frank is going to leave, more especially now that Robert has given up Mr. Haighs’ coal – getting and says he has thought of taking his 2 or 3 daughters from working at the mill at some time – came in at 12 25 – wrote all but the first 4 ½ lines of today and at my books and papers till went down to Robert Mann at 1 ¼ about Mawson’s carts taking the laundry court road stuff to underneath the farm yard wall east side – could not do with it there – to be taken to form embankment in the paddock about midway – Holt the engineer came about 2 said I was going to H-x so he waited for me in the road while I had done with Robert Mann and Mawson – Holt would willingly persuade me to fix as soon as possible about my steam engine – said Iron was rising in price – he had given us a vote – said I would settle about the engine as soon as I could – in no great hurry yet – glad he had given us a vote – if he had voted altogether against us, I should not have thought more of him or his estimates – down the old bank to Mr. Parker’s office – there at 3 35 P- and A- had just sat down to dinner so said I would call again in about ½ hour – went to the bank – gave a check (as usual) for £600 to be paid to Messrs. Hammersley and co. bankers London – Mr. Davidson say they would advise their bankers in London of it tomorrow and the money would be paid on Wednesday – dated my check tomorrow Tuesday 15 August – then to Gill’s the shoemaker for shoes – Gill not at home – to come and measure me at 8pm. on Thursday – Mrs. Gill had wished to see A- to tell her that if she wrote to Mrs. Rawdon or Miss Briggs now staying with her she (Mrs. Gill) thought Mrs. Rawdons’ place might be got for Charlotte Booth – then to Whitleys’ – bought Eloge on Dupuytren translated by Mr. Ikin surgeon of H-x and pollbook and Mudies’ popular mathematics and at Mr. Parker’s office again at 4 20 till 5 ¼ - read P- the copy of letter I intended writing to Messrs. Hammersley and co. to invest the £400 + £24 interest for the infant son of Mrs. Sarah Ellen Graham (daughter of Mrs. Ferguson) it was what Mr. Watson wrote P- curtailed the letter a good deal and very well – then read him copy of what I wrote to Mr. Hodgson on Saturday about the hotel – nothing, said P-, could be better – gave him the Liverpool letter to answer – to say I did not wish to increase my outlay the hotel being very complete, and in superior style, well with the attention of anyone who had capital – then talked over Mr. Carr’s proposal – P- evidently for my

SH:7/ML/E/20/0111

agreeing for house and furniture and everything – said I only wanted the coaches – should be glad if I got a tenant for the hotel, and I would leave him to agree with Mr. Carr – but I should not like to miss the coaches – P- to try to gain time – said I had a person ready to take the tap of the tenant – I had not named the subject except to one gentleman whom I had consulted (did not mention CP. and sure Mr. Parker could not guess) P- not croking [crooking] today – said Carrs’ retiring was very lucky – and the hotel not costing near so much as people thought would be a good speculation – would make my other property adjoining much more valuable – I hope the hotel will turn out well, and if the coal does, too, I shall be thankful – I do not despair – Just mentioned Holts’ offer to Mr. Jeremiah R- to buy the low bed sough, and JR-‘s laughing and saying it was worth thousands – I said H- wanted to persuade me to give a thousand pounds for it – but I only consented to give £500, and now I would not give as many pence – I had convinced H- I should be better without it – I did not consider R-‘s coal worth anything – I would not take it a gift if I was obliged to work it – I ought to have added if obliged to work it as R- does – I thought he must have laid out £15000 – returned up the old bank – sometime on the embankment in Allen car against the road wall – then in the gardens and stood talking to the gardener about Hemingways’ son – thinks he could not well manage him among so many men – I should very well like him to take little John Booth if he the gardener thought he could take it entirely from his father and made anything of him – sometime on the home-terrace with Mr. Gray – and about – came in at 7 ¼ A- having returned from Crownest 5 minutes before – very much tired but right as to temper dinner at 7 35 – went into A- sitting for a few minutes but came up with A- at 9 put her to bed – had Cookson to help me till 9 20 then left them for 25 minutes and sat reading Mudies’ popular mathematics – then a few minutes with A-who had had tea, and tho’ tired seemed better – then till 10 35 wrote all but the 1st 16 lines of today – very fine day – F61° at 9 20 pm – sat reading in my study till 11 20 – looking the directions in Dodsley’s cellar book, Clarkes’ Innkeepers’ guide

[abrahamshipwreck]

Had a massive scare rn.

Magellan has been ill and I have been wantinf him in my sight in case he starts to do that 'dying cat hiding' thing.

We also have a broken slat in our back fence that jas been there foe over a year my stepdad INSISTS he will get to (IE play foreman while I do the work to his proceedure/specifications)

I lost Magellan this morning to see the slat carefully pulled aside large enough to get through and worried he had finally bolted to go die somewhere or be killed or worse

Thankfully after half hour of trawling the neighborhood block and calling him from the backyard he came home. I managed to put 3 nails into the busted part of the slat bc trying to find drillbit parts and suitable screws in stepdads garage is a nightmare

This fence has caused neifhborhood dogs to get into our yard (one dog almost drowned in the pool some years back so thisnproblem has persisted for SO LONG) we have had people randomly showing up in our backyard at night to knock on windows. My stepdads solution? Put a small wood sode table and a bag of soil in front of it until he can fix it (IE- telling me to make a barricads until he can play construction foreman to me)

The fence, the fact that any 'chore' he has promised to do became added to my larhe chore list, the fucking bedbugs (bringing them in, refusing to call am exterminator initially, never doing his laundry- but of course having opinions on HOW the landry should be done) it is all almost too much and my resentment for him grows.

[kevinszabojrplumbing]

Tips and Tricks for Preventing Pest Infestations in Your Plumbing System

By Teri Silver

Dealing with pests in your plumbing is a problem no homeowner wants to deal with. Critters crawling through your pipes and drains are not only bad for your plumbing but can cause major damage to your property and pose health risks for you and your family.

Here are the top 5 ways to protect your plumbing from pests:

1. Seal Off Entrances and Exits

Rodents, like mice and rats, can squeeze through even the tiniest cracks. Because of this, it’s important to seal the doors and windows throughout your home as much as possible and to quickly repair any cracks or damage. You can also use door sweeps and weather stripping for extra security. If there are holes or tears in your windows or screens, make sure they are replaced, and patch up bigger openings with mesh, wood, and concrete. ●      Mesh screens can keep even the tiniest insects out of your home.

●      Drain covers, especially those with raised edges, can be beneficial for showers and tubs, preventing larger bugs from entering while also trapping hair and debris.

2. Inspect for Moisture

Rodents and insects are most attracted to moist and humid areas. Make sure you don’t have any leaks in your crawlspace, basement, laundry room, attic, or garage. Handheld moisture meters are available at home improvement stores and online, and if necessary, you can also buy moisture absorbers to help rid the dampness.

3. Conduct Regular Inspections and Cleanings

Bugs, like cockroaches, are the most common creepy crawlies found in plumbing. Because of the dark and dank corners to hide in, you’ll often find roaches in bathrooms and in the kitchen behind the stove.

Unfortunately, roaches multiply pretty quickly, so if you see one, there are likely a lot more, and you may have an infestation on your hands. So check your plumbing and drains consistently. Leftover food and residue in drains are the perfect place for pests like roaches to survive and thrive.  Roaches find these damp spaces ideal for laying eggs which sets the stage for an even bigger infestation in your home. 

To combat this:

●      Establish a regular cleaning schedule: set aside a day every week to conduct a thorough inspection of your pipes and to clean the drains. Use natural cleaning solutions like baking soda and vinegar combinations. Pour a cup of baking soda down the drain followed by a cup of vinegar. Let it sit for about a half hour and then pour a boiling cup of hot water down the drain to flush it all out.

●      Declutter your home. A messy home with garbage strewn about can attract rodents. Aim to clean not only on a weekly or daily basis, but conduct seasonal deep cleanings.

4. Be Careful When Remodeling

Home remodeling presents a lot of unique challenges. For instance, termites may be drawn to wooden structures if they are not kept dry. Mice and rats can find their way in while your equipment is being replaced. And of course, open pipes are a perfect entryway for bugs and rodents.

5. Hire an Expert

The best way to protect your property from unwanted pests is to hire an experienced plumber. Here at Kevin Szabo Jr Plumbing,  we can inspect your pipes to ensure everything is sealed and secure. So, give us a call. We are here to service you anytime, including emergency plumbing services across the Illinois area and suburbs.  Call us today at 708-845-7922.

Teri Silver is a journalist and outdoor enthusiast. She and her husband live on 5 acres with a vast lawn, three gardens, a farm, a pond, many trees, and a lot of yard work! The best parts of the year are summer and fall when home-grown veggies are on the dinner table.

#This Summer #Guest Author #Guest Blogger #Guest Contributor #Guest Post #Guest Writer #Best Ways To Prevent The Most Common Plumbing Problems #Plumbing Problems #broken pipes #leaking pipes #clogged toilets #garbage disposals #prevent drains from clogging #plumber in tinley park #tinley park plumbers #plumber in orland park #orland park plumbers #plumber in homer glen #homer glen plumbers #plumber in frankfort #frankfort plumbers #plumber in mokena #mokena plumbers #plumber in lemont #lemont plumbers #plumber in new lenox #new lenox plumbers #plumber in oak forest #oak forest plumbers #plumber in homewood

[100dayproductivity]

97/100.

Am I incapable of doing chores without turning them into a blog post? Seems so.

You know what it is? It's avoidance. I am avoiding a couple of unpleasant tasks (not household chores) that are causing me deep anxiety. So instead of facing them, I do nothing. Which also causes me anxiety. So I try to do housework to feel like I'm "too busy" to get to those unpleasant tasks. But I can only motivate myself to do housework by writing a Tumblr post about it. I think I feel like I can't properly focus on the unpleasant tasks while I have housework nagging at me. Like when you can't get down to studying or writing an essay until you clear off your desk. Kwim?

So... Let's start at the kitchen drying rack again. This seems to be my current modus operandi.

Clear off drying rack ✓

Empty dishwasher ✓

Do a load of laundry ✓

Take dog for a walk ✓

Have a healthy lunch ✓

Hang laundry outside ✓

Have healthy snack ✓

(Lol, it looks like all I did between lunch and snack was hang laundry but I was actually working all afternoon.)

Now it's dinner time already.

Oh! I actually did a half-hour of yard work too! Almost forgot.

Yard work ✓

Healthy dinner ❌

I had a leftover slice of pizza and too many Doritos.

Run dishwasher ✓

Take in laundry from outside and put in dryer ✓

#100 days of productivity #100dop #to do list #chores #kitchen #cleaning #procrastination #avoidance #anxiety