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jodilin65 · 9 years ago

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THURSDAY, DECEMBER 31, 2015 I wish I could say that 2015 was ending on a good note, but instead, it is ending on a horrible note. I am filled with fear, doubt, and worry galore and have made another appointment with Dr. L.

My PCP is going to start me on Lexapro for my anxiety, which is persistent and intense nearly every day now. It is absolutely horrible. Had anyone told me that they could feel this way for no reason at all, I would have simply laughed. Any time I've ever felt emotional in the past it was for a specific reason and I understood what that reason was. That reason may have seemed very depressing and even a little scary, but it didn't seem nearly as terrifying and as hopeless as this does.

To add to my anxiety, Doc A warned me that this drug does have side effects and that not everybody responds to it well. It can make my anxiety worse, she said for the first couple of weeks, including suicidal thoughts, and may take up to 4 weeks before I notice any difference if I can get that far without having to stop the medication and contact her. The thought of becoming any more anxious than I already am is utterly batshit terrifying! I think I would definitely end up in the looney bin for damn sure.

The problem is I'm alone so damn much. I don't want Tom to throw away his job, though, and all he’s worked for (he just got an award of excellence), and ultimately risk us losing the house all because his wife has turned into a basket case.

My PCP said anxiety is a medical disorder and from what I read it has to do with transmitters in the brain going awry. I guess we all have chemicals in the brain and mine’s putting out too much adrenaline or whatever it is that makes us feel panic and fear. Something like that, anyway. What the hell “broke” my brain, I don’t know, but SSRI drugs are supposed to block some of that.

I am just so terrified of trying this new medication, yet I feel I have no choice. The lorazepam is only helping so much. I haven't slept through the night in ages without either waking up, with or without my heart racing. It’s been absolutely terrible. I'm so afraid that this is the new me and that I'm going to suffer from this for the rest of my life in which case, I don't think I can stand to do so. There are people who believe that if God leads you to it, then He’ll get you through it. Oh yeah? Well, God led that reporter to ISIS and He certainly didn't get him through it, did He? I'm smart enough to know that sometimes we really do get more than we can handle in life and

I worry that this is going to be one of them. I also worry about the trip. I was first starting to think we should maybe cut the cruise part of the trip out and just see my sister in FL, but now I worry I may not even survive to do that much, I feel so bad.

Last night, Tom got up from napping at 9pm (he managed to work today, though he is still very sick with what we now suspect was the flu and not a cold. I wondered as much just because of how draining it was on me). He was worried about me, knowing I’d be stressed. I cried on his shoulder for a while, and then emotionally I felt better (despite sleeping shitty) until around 6:00 this evening. An hour later I took my lorazepam. I couldn’t even get through my entire Bowflex routine with my heart racing. I then did Stacey’s breathing exercise, but if this is a medical issue and not something “eating�� at me, then I don’t see how those will help much. I still do them anyway. She’s the expert and she told me to do them, so I “hit the floor on my tummy” for 10 minutes twice a day like a good girl. I’m not saying none of this is psychological. If it weren’t, then Tom’s presence wouldn’t calm me down.

Ugh, I wish Tom were awake now as I just want to run into his arms! I want to run to my big sis, too. wipes tears But sometimes I fear I won’t survive long enough. She left me a message today and said a friend suggested contacting the media about our 24-year reunion, which was kinda funny. But we’ve always known about each other. The media’s more into stories about lost siblings, etc. that were separated when they were adopted or something like that. We couldn’t just tell the media, “Well, our mother was a bitch who pitted family members against other family members, our dad was spineless, and we all stopped talking for many years until they croaked.”

Back to my pity party… I miss the old me so much! The one who hasn't been afraid to be alone since she was a kid.

Tom looked online at the various SSRI medications, including the Prozac, which I had suicidal thoughts on and had to stop, and compared the chemical makeup of these different drugs. Prozac seems to have a little of everything, but Lexapro seems to have only a little of one thing and he believes it's the most promising in the mildest. She's only starting me on 5 milligrams. That doesn't mean I'm any less terrified. I have always been prone to side effects.

Yet I have to do something. I am struggling with everything. Working out has become a struggle. Cleaning has become a struggle. Sleeping has become a struggle. Even writing has become a struggle. I'm sleeping much longer because my sleep is so disturbed. The only good in this is that I have lost a little weight since my appetite is down.

If there is a God, and I highly doubt it, please let next year be better! Please bring me back to myself! My energetic, confident, secure self who may be a worrywart at times, and who may get angry and stressed out, but who is never afraid to be alone. Or just afraid for no apparent reason. Please let me survive 2016!

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 30, 2015 I don’t have a more positive update to make this time, but I do have a more interesting and promising one.

First, though, my niece Sarah had a seizure while with her mother at the grocery store yesterday. How terrifying it must’ve been! She was at the checkout when she had to be taken away by ambulance. I don’t believe in prayer, but I believe in at least being thankful she wasn’t alone when it happened, and hopeful that her new medication helps her.

My anxiety was through the roof last night, though my heart was never racing. You know that saying about butterflies in your stomach? Well, that’s exactly what it felt like. I could feel waves of adrenaline push up from the pit of my stomach and up into my chest and even my face, causing my lips to tingle. It’s the same kind of fear you would suddenly feel if you were walking down the street and were suddenly faced with a big mean-looking dog.

I cried on Tom’s shoulder and while this helps make me feel better, I also felt guilty because he has the same cold I had and I’m sure he doesn’t need this right now as patient as he is.

I am now taking the lorazepam more as prescribed, which basically means every 12 hrs. Even if I don’t feel that anxious, I don’t want to wait and let myself get there.

I’m also still waking up overheated and with a racing heart which calms down after a few minutes. This one I’m not sure is connected to whatever’s causing my “artificial fear.” I wonder if this could be the perimenopause. I sleep with just a thin blanket, nothing but my panties, drop the temp to 68°, and I still wake up hot and with a racy heart.

My gut feeling has always been that whatever is going on with me is physiological as opposed to psychological, not that I’m not against exploring psychological possibilities and ways to help myself with Stacy. Yet my endo has told me my labs don’t indicate that I could have these symptoms, and my adrenaline test that was done through bloodwork shows that I do not overproduce adrenaline. Still, I find it awfully hard to believe this is all about “something eating at me.”

As I was lying in bed thinking (lorazepam makes you drowsy and so I have to lay down periodically for a few minutes) my mind suddenly flashed back 10 years ago when we were living in Oregon and really struggling big-time financially. I’m not normally the superstitious type. Yes, there are psychics who can sometimes know the unknown and have dream premonitions. It’s happened to me. It’s harder to believe the things you haven’t experienced firsthand, like ghosts, for example. I’ve never seen one personally so I wonder if it’s people’s imagination, though I admit I don’t know it all. Regardless… one night in 2005 Tom read about a spell online. It only takes a few minutes to perform it by using regular household items that aren't supposed to make your life perfect but are supposed to improve it and stop the extremes, as in the really bad things from happening.

When Tom asked me to help him perform the spell I just laughed and almost passed. But knowing that we had absolutely nothing to lose, I got up and assisted with the simple formula and performed the spell with him. It requires a small bowl of water in which you pour three drops of oil. Then you stick the eye of a small needle through the eye of a bigger needle and drop it into the bowl. While one of you sprinkles salt the other cuts at it with scissors as you both chant, “Eyes against eyes, return to sender.”

Just five months after performing the spell Tom got a huge promotion which was considered great money for being in the tiny cheap town of Klamath Falls, Oregon. Many other good things started happening as well. I was entering sweeps and winning like crazy.

Wondering if it might not hurt to try to reapply the spell, we performed it again last night. Although I didn’t sleep well, I felt calmer for the rest of the night.

When I got up, I almost dreaded checking my comments on Prosebox. See, part of the reason I keep the negative entries private is that I don’t want to depress or worry anybody, and I also don’t want confusing, conflicting, or unwanted advice that I’m already aware of.

However, a long-time reader and friend suggested I may have an adrenal imbalance. My first thought was… but they just tested for that via bloodwork and said I don’t overproduce. Next?

But then I went on to read her talk about how while she acknowledges that she’s not a doctor, a blood test for cortisol levels doesn’t accurately diagnose adrenal insufficiency. The only way to map out my cortisol is with a saliva test, and she gave me a link to a home testing kit on Amazon.

Not that I don’t appreciate all the advice my readers have given me, but I can’t deny that this one sounds the most promising of all. If the labs come up with anything, they will send it back to me and I can take it to my endo. She said not to bother with our insurance because I would end up paying more that way. Fortunately, it’s legal in my state. It’s only illegal in New York and Maryland. She said adrenal imbalances are common with those with hypothyroidism and are overlooked by Western medicine. I guess there are supplements you can take if you have this problem.

Well, I’m willing to try anything. ANYTHING to stop this horrible anxiety. Even when my heart isn’t racing I feel the same kind of fear one would feel if they were suddenly faced with something that scares them like heights or giant spiders. It’s awful. I just want to get back to myself so bad. I want my sleep back. I want my life back.

So Tom and I read up on it and decided it was worth the $140 to find out. If this isn’t the case, maybe I can ask my PCP to do other types of hormonal testing on me. If I’m entering perimenopause, that right there might be a factor. If all else fails, I guess I either take less levothyroxine and more anxiety meds. sighs with frustration I just want to figure it out, whatever it is… like yesterday.

Met with a different instructor, Ruthann, and group of aerobics buddies down at the clubhouse just after 4:30. Damn, was the walk down there cold! There were 8 of us, including the instructor. This time we didn’t follow the instructor herself, but we followed a video. The video was fun and fairly easy. It would have been perfect for Tom had he not been in bed with a cold.

One woman had really nice long hair like I had years ago. I recognized her from the pool last summer. Her name is Debbie. Her hair didn’t cover her ass like mine did, but it covered her back. She said she’s cutting part of it off. I remember how easy it was after a while to get sick of. The weight of it, the care of it, and the way it would get in the way of things.

Anyway, I had to cut class midway. The same thing happened when I started to get really warm and anxious feeling. I was actually grateful for the coldness during the walk back. Ruthann said they do this Monday through Wednesday.

I felt the same anxiety press up from my gut and into my chest and had to take a lorazepam an hour earlier than planned.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 29, 2015 I wish I could say all is well, and that’s exactly what it would be if it weren’t for this anxiety, which has been horrible lately. I never would’ve thought one could feel so bad when their life was so good. My life isn’t any more perfect than the next person’s, and yes, it gets noisy here during the daytime, blah, blah, blah… but I have a beautiful home in a beautiful neighborhood, and I’m in relatively good health with a husband who loves me unconditionally.

Yet here I sit, day after day, trying to figure out where all this anxiety is coming from. My endo said that since thyroid levels don’t change daily yet I’m not anxious every day, she doesn’t think it’s solely the medication, and Tom agrees with her. My gut’s initial reaction was to believe otherwise since I never had problems with this insane degree of anxiety till levothyroxine entered my life… BUT… then why did I go all those months without incident? Plus, according to my 2014 journal, I quit the levothyroxine on Aug. 23rd after they put me on 75s for the first time, and wasn’t restarted on 25s till Nov. 27th. Yet well into November, long after the stuff would have left my system, I was anxious here and there.

Tom also wonders if something could suddenly be eating at my subconscious that Stacey can help me figure out, though I can’t imagine what. He said it could be something that happened to me 48 years ago for all we know. Oh, great. So with 50 years’ worth of experience, how do you figure that one out? Wouldn’t that be like trying to find a needle in a haystack if that’s the case?

I don’t know what to think anymore. Why would something from my past, if that were the case, suddenly decide to eat at my subconscious and make me anxious and afraid to be alone? Tom says that with my history I’m a therapist’s goldmine to try to decipher and figure out.

I keep going back and forth between the meds being the current cause, and what happened with the meds traumatizing me into carrying on the anxiety myself. But then why did I catch a few months of peace if I’m now anxious about how it once made me anxious? And if my labs never showed numbers that could produce such symptoms, as Doc O said, then why am I having them? Yes, I’ve been calm for months at a time on this dose, but I’ve had problems on this dose, too. If the meds and anxiety truly are unrelated, then the timing was a helluva coincidence, almost seemingly designed that way to confuse me even more.

If it is the meds, then I would probably once again become tolerant to it over time like I did before just as long as we don’t go making any more changes. Nothing against Doc O, but trying me on 88s was a horrible idea in the end. It’s like it threw everything off. I’d just found the perfect balance and now everything’s been turned upside down, inside out.

If it isn’t the meds, then we could be looking at any number of things. I mean there would be a million possibilities in that case.

My symptoms vary. Sometimes I’ll feel anxious and my heart will race, and other times I’ll just feel anxious or my heart will just race. The emotional part of it is annoying and frustrating as hell, but when my heart gets in on the action, it becomes terrifying. No matter how much you tell yourself you won’t die and that it can’t kill you, you still want to run to someone in fear.

Finally fed up, I messaged Doc A to ask what she could recommend for a daily regimen and how it may affect me (positively and negatively). I hate how tired the lorazepam leaves me, but it’s better than being anxious.

I have never had a problem this complex and this scary before. I only hope to hell it gets resolved before I either end up in a loony bin or Tom has to quit his job to be with me more often. This park may not always be peaceful and our house may be 33 years old, but we do like the park and we love the house and would like to stay here till we leave the state altogether. His having to quit his job, as much as I love knowing that he would and that I’m more important to him, could leave us with even more problems in the end than we started with. I’m losing my mind. That’s enough. We both don’t need to lose our home, too. Money can’t buy health and happiness or fix all our problems, but it sure can help keep us more comfortable while we’re trying to get better. If he quit his job, I don’t know that I could keep the same doctors. I’d hate to have to start all over again with a new team, so quitting is a very last resort.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 28, 2015 This entry will be so depressing I might keep it private, especially since my thoughts are getting darker. My anxiety is coming and going, and just like Stacey said, the lorazepam doesn't always help. I can't sleep, I'm anxious as hell, and my appetite is down. Can't complain about the last one, but I would rather feel good and have to worry about not overeating.

I'm so fed up and frustrated with this shit that I am about ready to tell my PCP to go ahead and start a daily regimen and just hope there are no dangerous effects from it. I would rather be tired all the time than feel anxious.

I messaged Doc O to ask her if she's absolutely sure there's no way that the 75s could now become a problem. I know I did well on this dose for 5 or 6 months throughout the summer, but maybe I wasn't pocket-flaring then and maybe I am now. That's what I want to find out. I need her to tell me if that’s possible or not so that I can either rule out the medication as a possibility or do something about the medication. I skipped it today.

I'm really wondering how the hell I'm going to handle the cruise. If my heart keeps racing me awake every couple of hours I'm not going to have the energy to go on fun excursions. May have to cut the cruise part of the trip out and just see Tammy for a few days. If I'm sitting on her couch yawning, so what? But if I'm parasailing or snorkeling or shopping or whatever, I would like to be awake for that.

Two nights in a row now I have had my heart race me awake and I know damn well it’ll do it again tonight. I was anxious all last night and finally, I had to take lorazepam, which caused me to crash a couple of hours earlier than I wanted to, but the anxiety was just too much for me. I'm trying to do Stacy's breathing exercises but they're just not helping. I’m trying to keep busy but sometimes I just want to lay in bed and cry or at least just feel sorry for myself as I continue to worry about how long this will go on, what’s causing it, and what can fix it.

I woke up anxious today at 10:00 and then it came and went in waves and dissipated around 1:00. Just like last night, though, it reared back up shortly after my very sick husband went to bed. I still have traces of the cold in my head and a slight cough, but it’s 95% gone. He only did 8 hours today that’s how miserable he feels. Unlike me, he even has a bit of a fever. At least he’ll get better. I may never get better. That’s a tough pill to swallow to think I may have to live with this anxiety on and off for the rest of my life. I won’t let myself suffer like that. I swear I won’t. If the doctors can’t help me and death is the only way out, then I may seriously consider it. Nothing I have ever gone through in my life was this tough. Nothing. And I’ve had my share of rough moments.

Why is this happening??? How can this suddenly be “normal” for me if Tom’s so sure it’s not the pills??? How can this simply be me being anxious over what the 88s did??? I just don’t get this new and horrible me. Wish Doc O would hurry up and get back to me, but I probably won’t hear from her for a day or two.

I just want to scream and cry in frustration at times. I miss my old self so, SO much!!! Remember how I said my perfect vision would be the one thing I would take back if I could? I was wrong. I want my calmness back. I want to go back to being able to sleep at night or whenever I happen to sleep. And I also want to go back to not being afraid to be alone. Even when I'm not alone I still experience waves of anxiety that I feel both physically and emotionally and it just sucks. I totally miss the me that had no clue what this was like. That only knew what it was like to have stress and worries, but not downright waves of fear and panic. I would soooo rather be dirt poor, stuffed back in Jesse’s little shitbox away from civilization and totally in the dark as to what it means to feel this way. I try transporting myself back there, but nothing I do seems to help.

Just like Jesse’s mutts stole my ability to truly enjoy what country living is supposed to be all about, this anxiety is preventing me from enjoying my life here to the fullest. I miss the days when my biggest problems were other people’s noise, earaches, and little things like that.

My crazy schedule has only gotten crazier. Like I said, even when it wasn’t predictable, it still was. Now it’s gotten much harder to gauge when I’ll be getting up because the constant wake-up calls are throwing everything off, causing me to have to sleep longer.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 27, 2015 Still getting over my cold and still have a lot to write about. Unfortunately, Tom did get hit with it after all. Aw, just when we thought he’d escape it, too. :( He started feeling “off” last night and is lying down now. This is something I definitely have mixed emotions about. I love the idea of him spending more time at home if he needs to call out of work, but hate to see him suffer. It really gets you on the third or fourth day.

I hope Stacey didn’t get it either. Speaking of her… I can now quickly go over what we discussed. She didn’t remember me when I called her the day before our meeting, but once she pulled up my file and saw me, she remembered me from last May. So much for swearing I’d only see her once, as I jokingly said to her. You would think by now I’d have learned that A, one should never say never. And B, never assume something’s over for good.

Like anxiety attacks. Yeah, that shit I still deal with on and off. Haven’t had any major attacks since last Tuesday, but my heart did race me awake following a gruesome nightmare (I’ll get to that later) and I took a lorazepam to help me get back to sleep for the first time since Wednesday or Thursday night.

I know some have wondered if it could be my thyroid medication, but the doctors, Stacey, Tom and I are sure it’s not because I went months on 75s without incident and then there’s what the numbers say. On 88s I was on the low end of normal. On 75s I’m on the high end of normal. Also, when you’re having trouble due to levothyroxine the symptoms are both relentless and brutal. I had a lot of other symptoms when I was “T4 storming” that I’m not having now like lung tightness and other things. Plus, if it were the medication, it wouldn’t give me a few days off here and there. You just don’t get breaks when that’s the case. It’s also unlikely to be the thyroid itself because the thyroid is being treated.

We believe this is anxiety caused by the anxiety that the meds originally were indeed responsible for on the higher dose. It was the most terrifying experience of my life that was truly torturous and traumatizing. It wasn’t something that was just “annoying” or “uncomfortable.” It was utterly horrifying and unmanageable. That’s why my dose was lowered. But the memories and the PTSD are still there, so when I’m alone or when I feel the slightest feeling I find strange, the anxiety has a chance to rear up.

I am hopeful that my “trauma training” with Stacey will help keep me from needing a daily anti-anxiety regimen. She and Tom both feel it won’t come to that and I hope they’re right. Sometimes I just don’t have the kind of confidence in myself that others have. I’m human. I have good and bad days both physically and emotionally like anyone else, and sometimes life gives me a little bit more than I can bear. It’s frustrating and even depressing too, because my life would be so ideal if it weren’t for this awful on-and-off, highly unpredictable anxiety. Even though there are times I know it’s more likely to bite, it’s still unpredictable. It can get you anytime, anyplace, no matter what good or bad may be going on at the moment. That’s the scary part. The asthma attacks I suffered regularly when I smoked were much more straightforward and obvious. Even living in poverty was a no-brainer as stressful as it was, but this is much more complex. There is no simple cause and cure.

Backing up a bit… traffic into Rocklin wasn’t bad at all when we went to see her. On the elevator, a young, tall slim (doctor or nurse?) with a blond ponytail made friendly chatter with us about the weather. She sort of reminded me of Alyssa.

The waiting room was dead and we didn’t have to wait long at all. The first time I saw Stacey I was impressed with how much more knowledgeable she seemed than Dana, and I was even more so the second time around. Another new “trick” I learned from her was the importance of breathing through my diaphragm versus my chest. This is relatively simple for one who’s had singing lessons. Even Tom gets this much being a trombonist in the Air Force once upon a time. She wants me to lie on the floor for ten minutes twice a day to help reinforce this type of breathing (because it’s impossible to breathe into your chest this way) which is to help prevent hyperventilation and use up the adrenaline quicker. Light activity can help with that too, but the hardest part, as she pointed out, is resisting the urge to basically hunker down. You want to hide under your covers, but you also want to run for help, too. Fighting the body’s fight-or-flight response is the ultimate challenge. No matter how much your logic knows you’re not in danger, you totally react as if you’re definitely doomed to die.

She did say a couple of things that weren’t exactly fun to hear. She pointed out that one could go ten years without an attack just to be hit with one after all that time. Once you get an unfortunate taste of these things, you’re never guaranteed to be forever free of them. All you can do is hope to lessen them and cope with them better. I could live another 30 or 40 years, so to think of being under the threat of these things that long is a bit disappointing. On the bright side, they say that just like all good things come to an end, so do the bad things. So hopefully, just like other problems I’ve had in life were resolved some way or another, this one will be too. She gave me a site to go to that has a self-help course.

The only other unnerving question she asked was if I trust my doctors to be thorough and not overlook any possible heart issues. They better be! But yeah, I think I trust them. With all the different doctors who have listened to my heart and who know my family medical history, someone would’ve caught something by now if something were amiss.

Daily medication is still an option but due to how drowsy and habit-forming that can be, I’d still prefer to give Stacey a little more time to help me help myself and just use the lorazepam as needed. If I’m still having problems after the trip, then I’ll consider a daily plan. God, I hope I don’t have problems then! But I’d be more worried about my sleep than actually having an anxiety attack while I was awake.

I removed the flannel sheets from the bed and put the regular ones back on, since the flannels keep you warmer and I overheat enough as it is with the damn memory foam topper, even with a so-called cooling mattress pad. I think part of my heart racing me awake has to do with overheating and not just anxiety. Maybe even the perimenopause. Again, that’s what makes this so tough is that it’s a very complex thing. There’s usually not just one cause/cure.

As he was pulling out to go to the store yesterday one did start to get me, but fortunately, I stopped it within seconds. Same thing… I started to feel really warm and a bit shaky, I ripped off my robe, and then I took slow deep breaths with my tummy. I just wondered if I’d have been able to stop it that fast had my mind known he wouldn’t be back in less than an hour and would be gone all day. So yeah, I’m a bit worried about him returning to work tomorrow as well as how I’ll sleep tonight. Hopefully, I’ll sleep in a bit so I won’t be aware of being alone for as many hours.

I still shake my head in disbelief at times. I can’t believe I’m dealing with this shit. I never had this before last year. I have always loved spending time alone. I focus and work better on things that way. But now I’d rather have someone around even if they were the type that can’t shut up and was always distracting me.

Anyway, I still have more to write about, but this entry’s kinda long, so I’ll sign off by saying that traffic on the way back was a nightmare! Really, why do people have to creep just because there are more than just a few cars on the road?

Later…

With the trip being about a month away, we were looking online at different excursion options. We’re taking a loan out from the 401K and allotting ourselves 6K. We’re thinking we’ll do mostly ocean activities in Cozumel and Roatán. Then when we return to Mexico we’ll mostly shop in the town of Majahual, which Tom can’t pronounce to save his life, haha.

I’m sure we’ll snorkel like we did in Maui and Lanai, but they have this really cool “personal” submarine where you wear what looks like a space helmet and you ride around underwater on what looks like a little motorcycle of sorts. The water only comes up to your chest. That’s $75. For $100 you can go parasailing, but I’m not sure I fancy the idea of being 600’ above water. We just might go for it, though. It’s not every day that we get the chance to visit the Caribbean Sea of Central America. Honduras is Central America, anyway. I glanced at the surrounding countries on Google Maps. Guatemala, Nicaragua, El Salvador, and Belize are some of the neighboring countries.

For $500 you can rent your own private boat for 4 hours and enjoy catamaran sailing, snorkeling, etc. So there are lots of possibilities.

The new kettle I got from Prime Now works great. Love how the drivers are GPS’d so you can see exactly where they are in real time.

Next door had more company than I’ve ever known them to have, but they were quiet. All I heard was people getting in and out of their cars. If this were Phoenix with the freeloaders next to us we’d also have hours and hours of screaming kids, basketball games, barking dogs, blasting music, shouting adults and trash and traffic galore all within 15’ or less of our windows.

Now for last night’s brutal dream. This wasn’t the usual nightmare I have that deals with captivity, poverty and even medical drama in light of my own recent ordeal. Instead, I was in a swimming pool on what appeared to be a college campus. There was a good-sized grassy hill in front of the building and the pool was by the front corner of this area. I was the only one in the pool for some reason. It went from day to night in seconds and I decided to get out of the water now that I could no longer see the few bees that were floating about its surface. Clusters of students were still scattered about the hillside.

Then a bright light suddenly came on that rotated in circles. This was on the opposite front corner. I knew right away something bad happened, but it took a moment or two before I spotted some people lifting a vehicle off a young black girl. She was bleeding horribly and I realized the poor thing might not make it.

This was the first time I awoke overheated and with my heart pounding. I had to take a lorazepam to relax enough to fall back asleep.

From there on out it was just snippets of senseless stuff… Tom and I in a tiny pizza parlor… Tom annoying the blond chick behind the counter by mashing a marshmallow into the head of a nail… me going outside to get something from the wrong car… me nearly running into a black girl who joked about something I didn’t hear… and then him asking me to be sure I could find our lottery ticket if we won on the 5th.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 26, 2015 To say I’m getting behind in my writing is a bit of an understatement, but now that I’m starting to get over this cold, I can start catching up. I just may not get to cover all I want to cover this time around.

Got a wonderful surprise in the mail from my Midwestern buddy today! Japanese Cherry Blossom body spray, purple glitter nail polish, and a sparkly little makeup bag that will be great for the trip. Everything was packed and wrapped beautifully, and the card she enclosed was adorable as well. Anyone who knows me knows I love smelly things and can never get enough glitter, shine, sparkle and bright colors.

I’m still way too exhausted to write about my visit with Stacey, but I’m able to stay up longer and longer. For a while there all I did was sleep. My ears still haven’t drained completely, so I can still feel the cold in my head. Still coughing a bit, but not much. Not much sneezing either. I just hope Stacey didn’t catch this and I really hope Tom won’t be hit with it next either! The first few days seem like no big deal, then it just sucks the juice right outa you. And talk about going from warm to cold, which I do enough of the time anyway! Never did have a fever, though.

Hopefully, the quality of my sleep will start improving. Even though I don’t have a schedule, for the most part, I also do have one at the same time. But when the cold was at its worst my sleep was horribly erratic. At least most of the time I have some idea of when I’ll be sleeping/awake. It’s waking up and not being able to fall back asleep that gets old. Not being able to stay asleep is one thing, but when I can’t go back to sleep versus waking up for just a second or two, it really messes me up.

Amazon Prime Now is way cool. In less than two hours I got some popcorn, some blueberries, and a new kettle to replace the one that broke.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 25, 2015 My “mild” cold turned into the cold from hell and I’ve been sleeping pretty much since Wednesday night. It has totally sucked the energy right out of me. I guess that due to not having a cold in so many years, my body just forgot how to deal with them. All I want to do is sleep. I just cannot wake up. And when I am up, it isn’t for long. My head is completely stopped up. I yawned shortly before going to see Stacey a couple of days ago (I don’t yet have the energy to write about that) and my ears popped for a moment but they’ve been stuck like glue ever since.

My mind and body are at odds with one another. My mind says, “Get up! Do more blogging. Run on the treadmill. Do some coloring. Hit the Bowflex. Do some laundry. Watch a movie. Enter some sweeps.”

But my body says, “Screw you. Just lay around and be lazy.”

I get free samples every now and then and one of the things I got recently are these lavender-scented breathing strips you stick across the bridge of your nose. Never had scented ones before. I jokingly said to Tom, “They almost make me wish I had a stuffy nose.”

Be careful what you wish for!

If my body didn’t have the threshold it has where it won’t let its weight drop under a certain weight, I’d have probably lost close to 10 pounds by now. I’ve only been able to have a few bites of food here and there. Tom has been wonderful. He cooked for me and helped me out a lot. This is the first time, however, that I got sick and he didn’t. Usually, it’s the other way around.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 23, 2015 I want my old self back, but I realized like never before that she’s just not returning. No matter what I do, my old self is gone forever. I have an appointment to meet with Stacy today. She's the counselor that I liked better than Dana. Saw her last May and she didn’t remember me when we spoke on the phone yesterday. That’s ok. I only saw her once and I know she sees many people. She’ll probably remember me when she sees me if she hasn’t already by pulling up my file.

I also notified my PCP about the anxiety and she said that she hoped that seeing Stacey would help and if not they could put me on regular maintenance anxiety medication if need be. I think I just might need that for a while. I'm just hesitant after what happened with the Prozac.

Anyway, yesterday was terrifying and horrible. My heart raced even a little bit with the lorazepam. My anxiety was through the roof that I had to have Tom come home early which brought mixed emotions. I was grateful to have him here because that helped calm me down, but then I felt guilty and worried about jeopardizing his job. He said he's not worried about layoffs, though this would pretty much guarantee to scrap any future promotions and raises. Yeah, that's something God would do… Use my health to screw his job. Funny too, because the older I get the more atheist I become. Yet at the same time, I truly feel - unless I'm just paranoid as fuck - that something up there is hell-bent on torturing me with my health. It can't do it with money right now, so it's using my health. I swear it wants me to go through one long-term problem after another. If it isn't the freeloaders, it's money, and if it wasn't my health, what would it be then?

Words cannot express just how frustrating this is! Sometimes I wonder if I can survive till the vacation or if I'll even wanna go on living afterward. The biggest question is what the hell is causing the anxiety??? These are the same symptoms I had when I had high thyroid, yet logically speaking there's no way the numbers could say that’s the case. Is it possible that it might never have been connected to the medication and that it was just a helluva coincidence that it started after starting the meds? And all despite other complaints out there saying the same thing? Might I have gotten this even if I had never been diagnosed with Hashimoto's? I just don't know what to think anymore. Or did it start with the medication and then become a psychological thing caused by my worrying? And why does it come and go? Why did I have warning signs when I was on the 88s, then why did it suddenly sneak up on me when I was in a perfectly calm mood on 75? I just don't get it.

From what I read, one doesn't usually develop anxiety disorders this late in life unless they're connected to something medical. So is it just my thyroid itself? I asked Tom; if it was my thyroid, then why didn't these beatdowns happen before I was diagnosed and medicated? He said because my body got used to the low thyroid. Yeah well, I wonder if I might have to let it get used to that again and stop the meds altogether. That's not a decision I've made yet. I just hate to invite the unmasked symptoms back, but they're a lot easier to tolerate than feeling like you're having a heart attack and terrified out of your mind.

Anyway, today I really feel my cold. My throat isn't as sore but my voice is very hoarse, I’m run down, and my head feels congested even though I don’t have a runny nose. Just some sneezing and coughing. It's been mild overall. I wouldn't have had to call out sick had I worked outside of home.

I've decided that I'm sick of sitting around at home even though I keep myself busy here. I'm going to go down to the clubhouse in a little over an hour and watch the step aerobics. My PCP said yoga, daily walks and meditation help, but I do exercise nearly every single day. Maybe in different ways, but it's not like I'm not physical.

When I was in Valleyhead and jail and constantly forced to interact with nothing but people, people, people, and almost never alone for more than a few hours, I longed to lock myself alone in a room for days. All I wanted was to be alone. I looked so forward to it because I felt so smothered by the hundreds of people I dealt with. Even just by my husband when he was on unemployment month after month, year after year. I just wanted some space. Now I'm just the opposite. Being alone terrifies me and that's not right. I shouldn't have to feel this way. I should look just as forward to being alone as I do spending time with my husband. I'm tired of this thing running and ruining my life, and if there is anything up there doing this to me, I totally hate its fucking guts. I'm going from scared to mad, not that I'm not still plenty scared. It's terrifying when the adrenaline suddenly pours through you like a waterfall and your heart starts pumping faster and faster, harder and harder.

Later…

I’ve been meaning to bitch about this days ago, but while I adore my friend Alison and she has continued to be a great support, but also drives me crazy at times with her clinginess, her demands, and her reading things in that aren't there. I can't even say the simplest, most innocent of statements without knowing if she's going to misconstrue my words.

The other day I asked her if she has come to like living with her parents or if she would still like a place of her own. For that I get, “That kind of hurts that you would say that as you know it takes time to save for an apartment and I've only been nannying for four months.”

Now why in the world would she think I would intentionally say something hurtful or offensive? I was simply asking what she preferred regardless of what money she had saved.

She said her iron levels were dangerously low the other day and wonders if that's what made her suicidal. Either way, just like I would say about Andy, I sometimes wish she would have less free time or get a boyfriend. She almost had one but from what she said, Leon dumped her for the same reasons that drive me crazy. She was too demanding.

Later…

Aerobics was fun. I'm trying to find a better "people/solitude balance." I don’t want to be smothered by nothing but people, people, people, but I’d like to mingle a bit more given that I work at home and Tom doesn’t. It’s about time we took advantage of more amenities here other than just the pool and spa anyway. It’s nice to enjoy what many people have to pay for.

With me being younger than most folks here, I thought they'd pretty much ignore me, but they were very friendly. In fact, they welcomed me with open arms. Literally. LOL, they like to start their little get-togethers off with a hug, so I got a few hugs from the half a dozen or so ladies that were there. I just wish I didn’t have such shitty vision with or without glasses.

Anyway, the only two names I remember are Nancy and Claire. All were older and all-gray. Nancy was the only one close to me in age and without the gray. They meet Tuesday – Friday and do a variety of exercises both in the mornings and the afternoons. The instructor, in her 80s and a wonderful inspiration, said they used to have 35 people per class but it’s dwindled over time.

Probably because of how easy it’s gotten to work out at home. Even though we have the Bowflex and the treadmill, variety is still nice. It’s nice to run in the fresh outdoor air at times when it’s not too cold, hot or raining, and it’s still fun to work out with others as well.

So we worked out with the instructor leading the way to the tune of some oldies. The oldies weren’t so bad. It was the Christmas music that was lame. It was still fun and I worked up enough of a sweat to be glad I wasn’t wearing long sleeves. We worked out for about 35 minutes, though we had a 5-minute water break in between. Next time I’ll know to bring a bottle of water. In the meantime, one of the ladies showed me the way to the kitchen sink where they had a filtered water faucet.

Claire was fascinated by the seahorse on my shirt before she had to leave for a doctor’s appointment. LOL

For part two, Nancy ventured off to the exercise bike and treadmill in front. A couple of guys played pool in a room off the back of the main room.

The second time around we used resistance bands. She said I could bring my own if I wanted to, but I don’t have one like what they use. She said don’t worry about bringing my own weights because they have so many from 3 pounds and up.

But do I have to bring my own resistance bands? I don’t think I do. It seems she passed those out to everyone. I used the strongest one, which she said she figured I’d want being “so young.”

Only one woman was obese. The rest had mostly slim legs while being a little top-heavy. Overall, we were a pretty fit bunch. Claire was weak and frail, though, and had to sit in a chair for the most part till she left.

The Angels coloring book I won came and it’s just so-so.

In dreams, all I remember is something about contemplating auditioning for a job singing but not having enough confidence in myself, a dog barking out an open window as I was talking to someone, some woman moving and then us moving.

Then I was living in my grandparents’ house when I realized I hadn't checked the mail in days. When I went out front I found there were tons and tons of mail. Some of it seemed like it could be stuff I’d won entering sweeps. I also found it odd that nearly 40 years later the same neighbors were still around.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 22, 2015 I might not get to post this today because I feel so awful. Bob’s hammering and sawing don’t help either. I loved how yesterday’s wind and rain kept it so unusually quiet, but now it’s back to being noisy and it’s only 9am. Just thought I would get a draft started and say that I am really seriously contemplating quitting my thyroid meds altogether. Never before has any medication ever given me such problems and I’ve had it with this shit. Every time I think I'm over the anxiety and the booming heart, it returns to haunt me. And the thing is I was feeling so calm and relaxed last time around, which kind of makes it scarier. I only had a few seconds of warning this time around.

I have a cold, which consists of a sore throat and that run-down feeling. This is my first cold in about 4 years. I obviously got it from somebody when we were out over the weekend. There I was missing the good old days where colds, toothaches, earaches and things like that were my worst problem but I never had to fear being left alone.

Then I get this cold and think, wow, maybe I’ve gotten what I wished for… the good old days back. Yeah, right! I felt wonderfully calm after sleeping ok and didn't think I needed to take a lorazepam after he left for work. After I worked out on the Bowflex and did some online work, including my Dutch lesson, I felt cold and tired and decided to relax in bed. You know how colds make you feel. You have no energy. Well, anyway, that familiar and horrible feeling of being too warm suddenly came on along with the fuzzyish feeling in my head just a few seconds before my heart took off at breakneck speed. Not just racing but booming hard.

I jumped up and took a lorazepam and called Tom. We've been Skyping each other like crazy trying to keep me calm. I am so frustrated and so depressed right now. I feel like I'll never escape this thing and that I’ll live in fear for the rest of my life. We had changed our minds about contacting the doctor this week, figuring there was nothing they could really do, but I'm definitely going to contact Doc A next Monday. This is no way to live. If I have to take lorazepam every single day, so be it. I’m sick of the torture and I’m totally beginning to believe I’ll never escape this shit no matter what I do. I’m fair game to it any time any place.

It's almost like the 75s are now too much for me. I'm not suffering nearly as much as when I was on the 88s, but this shouldn't be happening! Why is this happening? I wonder how much of it is the meds vs. me being anxious, though I didn’t feel the least bit anxious till it hit. Can one really develop an anxiety disorder this late in life? It just seems an odd coincidence that as soon as I start the thyroid meds, the trouble begins. Well, not that day, but within a few months. I just don't understand why this keeps happening. I just feel so singled out, picked on and totally hated from above. Totally.

Gonna just go ahead and upload this without editing or proofreading. Sorry for any errors. Meanwhile, the calm has been replaced with depression. I’m trying to keep busy, but with a cold and a scare like I had, it’s not easy. I just want to sleep and not wake up till it’s time to go on vacation.

I’ll write about my dreams later… if I even remember them based on the notes I jotted down when I got up.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 21, 2015 Saturday I was relatively anxiety-free, but on Sunday I was a mix of calm and anxious. The anxiety was about being left alone today, but right now I feel fine. I slept better, too. I didn’t overheat and my heart didn’t race. While I woke up feeling refreshed, alert and calm, I’m just not ready to face the world alone without my lorazepam just yet. I took one before bed and will take one when he leaves. If I can make it through the week without incident, then I’ll be off the lorazepam by the end of the week. I just hope this time it’s for more than a few days or even a few weeks! Each time I have a problem that basically hits the ‘reset’ button in the progress I’ve made toward gaining my serenity, security and confidence.

In better news on this rainy, windy morning… the trip is getting real! We’re starting to finalize our plans. Tammy said it’s about what WE want and so we should think of ourselves first. Yeah, but we still want to do what’s convenient for her and the girls too, if we can help it. She’s having surgery on January 25th. Two weeks is a bit long, but there’s an appealing Princess cruise leaving Ft. Lauderdale on January 30th that makes two stops in Mexico and one in Honduras. It returns to Florida on February 5th. We would spend until the 8th or 9th with Tammy, hoping that since a weekend falls in there my nieces will have a better chance of being able to swing by and meet us. We’ll be flying first class, and instead of having a layover at the Atlanta hub like we did in 2007 when we went to the Bahamas, PR, and (almost) to the Grand Turks, it looks like we may layover in Dallas. Don’t know for sure yet. Our stateroom will be one of the luxury suites. Not top of the line, but close enough with a private balcony and all that.

Cosco, who we’ll be doing the trip through, rates Princess and Royal Caribbean the same as Holland-America, the line we went on the first time around, being slightly above them. We looked at their cruises but they go where we’ve already gone. It would’ve been nice to at least be on a ship we knew our way around, though. We were on the Westerdam. It wasn’t a very attractive ship but it also wasn’t as overwhelming as I thought it’d be since most floors are staterooms and you only spend time on about 3 of the ship's 10 or so decks.

The Mexican lady that Tom works with says Mexico’s too dangerous. Yeah, but we’re only going to a couple of touristy towns, and there are some dangerous places right here in the US anyway. It’s not like we’re going to the Middle East or Africa or crazy countries like that. This will be my first trip to Central America if we do decide to take this trip. It’s a bit long (twice as long as our Maui vacation), so we’ll think about it for a few days till the passport arrives, and decide if we want to do it or a shorter cruise to just Mexico. There’s also a Jamaica/Haiti option.

We’ve allotted 2K for the airline and 2K for the cruise. We’ve decided that even years will be vacation years and odds will be major purchases. So a brand new side-loading washer/dryer set is on for 2017.

Today’s cardio day since yesterday was strength training day on the Bowflex. Sometimes I still think, hey, this isn’t fair! Most people who do what I’m doing lose weight. They don’t maintain it. But most of them are also younger, so it’s all good and better than gaining.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 20, 2015 Ugh, Kalamata Greek olives suck! Instant rat food. Really grateful to have those furry garbage disposals around. Food is never wasted when you have them. ;)

I’m baking chicken wings in a bag with McCormick’s chicken seasoning. It’ll be interesting to see if it’s as good as the version they have for pork. Tom picked it out and I tried some seasoned pork chops with him, and wow! They were sooo good! I’ll never skillet-fry or Shake-n-Bake pork again. This is also a little healthier, cuz remember, I’m trying to lower my cholesterol and sodium intake.

Just ate the chicken, which cooked for an hour as I read an email saying that royalty payments from Germany were on the way. It was very tender and tasty. :)

I slept long and horribly. I kept waking up. Then one time I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep for a while. I didn’t have to take a lorazepam, though. Not sure if my heart was racing or not. It might’ve been a little bit. Gonna see if removing the body pillow helps the quality of my sleep or not. God knows it’d surely look better without it on the bed. Two pillows and the rainbow teddy bear I just HAD to splurge on at Walmart is enough. The bear isn’t just for looks, though, but to lie against the too-bright digital clock at night. It’s easier to pull it aside to check the time during the many times I wake up than a bulky pillow is.

Anxiety was borderline when I got up, like threatening to bubble up below the surface, but now I feel fine. Eating seems to help, though if I get too anxious that actually snuffs out my appetite. I just know I never had this kind of anxiety before the thyroid pills entered the picture, but I also don’t know that the medication is solely to blame. Some of it could be my thyroid or just me worrying. I’m already worrying about being left alone tomorrow, but this week, depending on what happens, I will contact Doc A.

Tom accidentally stumbled upon an article on anxiety that says the best thing to do is to embrace it, tell yourself it’s ok, you’re not going to die, you’re not having a heart attack, and simply “ride the waves.” Meaning that the body reacts the same when you’re about to go down a steep rollercoaster as it does when a panic attack sets in. The heart begins to race, the adrenaline begins to flow, and we react to these physical actions by becoming fearful as harmless as they are. As I told Tom, though, it’s hard to resist the fear as it would be if a psycho with a gun approached me.

“But the psycho with a gun can kill you. Anxiety can’t,” he said.

However true this may be, and no matter how much you tell yourself it’s harmless, it’s still very hard not to feel terrified and afraid to be alone. Like I said, I’ve never had this before levothyroxine that I would quit the stuff altogether if it wasn’t for the unwanted hypothyroidism symptoms I’d go back to having, and the serious complications I may very well be looking at in 10-15 years.

I guess I just gotta learn to “ride the waves” better. And stop “what-iffing,” and overanalyzing things like asking myself, is my heart beating faster? Does it feel like it’s going to start racing? What if I’m alone and I run into trouble? Etc.

Now for some happier news… Tom’s passport is on the way and this weekend we’re going to throw a few possible dates for Tammy to make sure she’ll be available at those times. She has a lot of medical drama going on, but since she isn’t working right now I’m guessing she’ll be pretty flexible. It’s just a question of how many days we’ll be with her, how many days we’ll be cruising, where we’ll be cruising to, and if we’ll even be cruising at all. There are many possibilities. Tears of excitement sting my eyes just thinking about seeing everybody for the first time in 24 years!

There’s what I want and there’s what would be easiest on me. It’d be easiest to spend just a couple of days with Tammy and do a 4-day cruise to Mexico or even just a weekend cruise to the Bahamas. But since part of the fun is adding new countries to my list, I want to spend 3-4 days with Tammy (which will also give the girls a chance to meet us at Tammy’s) and do the week-long cruise that goes to Mexico, Jamaica and the Cayman Islands.

My biggest worry is my sleep curse. That concerns me more than any potential medical drama. I’m less likely to have anxiety when I’m not alone and when I’m busy and doing fun things.

“You survived 6 months of jail,” Tom pointed out.

True, but I was younger and healthier. Still, jail wasn’t fun or worth being tired for. Vacation is.

I have more to write about but will do it later on. I want to hit the Bowflex now!

Later…

Ah, my first workout felt great. It was more of a refresher course than anything the first time around. It all came back as I went about the routines. Our last one didn't have a tower and Tom would've laughed if he saw me cuz I hooked up to it incorrectly at first. Now if only the intermittent anxiety could back off…

I've trained on and off in various ways for years, so the names of the muscles and exercises are familiar, and since the body has memory, it can spring back to life quickly enough, not that I've let it "forget." A 50-year-old doesn't have boobies this lifted unless she's been doing something or another (push-ups and planks). Ass isn't northerly, but it's not southerly either, so that's good. Call it a Midwestern ass. I'm not 34 anymore so I expect to always look like shit to a degree, but it's fun being a Bowflex Babe just the same!

I was at some party in last night’s dream where some chick started to come onto me. Then she backed off and someone else gave me a huge container of popcorn. I took the container and decided what movie to watch while I ate it.

Then, I don’t know if I observed this through a movie or what, but I watched as a bunch of cops tried to get this guy to shoot some other guy so that it’d look like self-defense or something like that, but I knew in my mind that they were just trying to manipulate and incriminate the guy. Just when I thought the guy might fall for the trap, he caught on and a high-speed chase ensued both on foot and in vehicles.

I was in Nebraska in another dream and met with Aly. She took me to her house and her parents were both tall and slim with ponytails that covered their backs. I suddenly realized that her house was really one of the houses we had back in Massachusetts and asked her father if he bought it in 1987. He confirmed my suspicion with a nod, and I couldn’t wait to be led down into the basement where I used to spend a lot of time hanging out. But the stairs leading down there now seemed so narrow that I wondered if I’d be able to squeeze down them. But I did manage to get down the stairs and then we watched TV.

Aly eventually went to take a shower. I heard water running and glanced upward at these wooden beams that ran across the ceiling. Thick nails appeared every few feet or so and water trickled from each of them. I wondered if I should go upstairs and tell someone.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 19, 2015 Heard from Lana again. Apparently, Facebook is fun for her and I got a little too “serious” with my questions. I can understand how she’d feel that way, but one wouldn’t blame me after the hassles I’ve had with some people. Stranger requests always make me suspicious. Especially when they won’t tell me what friends we supposedly have in common after I fail to find any on our lists. No biggie, though. However, I am pretty sure now that she’s not connected to Andy. Besides, I wouldn’t expect him to have friends in Nevada anyway.

We had fun flying Tom’s new drone around our huge living room, but it’s not easy to fly! It’s very tiny and easily fits in the palm of my hand. I kept bouncing it off the cathedral ceilings. The rats were peering out of their cage with their usual curiosity, and I tried to fly it over to them, but couldn’t quite get it there. Rats love to chase things, and of course, had I not been cursed with asthma, Simone would be here to enjoy it, too.

Because I had to return a dress that was too big on me, we had $20 credit which I’m surprising Tom with a cool gadget that combines my love of color and his love of electronics. He said he’ll begin guessing when he’s not too busy (I told him about it at work via Skype). It’s a multicolor wave light that shines upon the ceiling and makes the room look like it’s under water. You can also hook an iPod to it and play music from it.

So glad I discovered pin4ever being the pinaholic I am on Pinterest, as now I can back up my boards/pins to my drive, then store them on the Cloud. Yay!

Our Bowflex has arrived and I’m looking way forward to getting stronger even though I don’t expect to ever lose weight and probably only a few inches all around if even that. I’m still older, I still come from a genetically heavy family, and I still have Hashimoto's. We Hashi’s do a great job losing and gaining the same 5 pounds over and over. The last time I lost 30 pounds I was about 43 and I couldn’t even keep it off a year. I’m okay with keeping the weight, though, because then I won’t have to get new clothes too soon or have my wedding ring too loose. My body definitely reached its middle-age comfort zone years ago and I’m content to leave it at that and not set any unrealistic goals for myself. But nothing can stop me from building more muscle! :)

The only bad news is that I felt a little anxious yesterday morning and took a lorazepam. I’ve found that if I take it early in my day it won’t knock me out. Then my heart raced me awake 4 hours after crashing. I’m skipping today’s dose and will be contacting my PCP to let her know I’m not quite as over the effects of the higher dosage, though I am still better. I just hope Tom’s right and that I’ll eventually get back to normal for good. I’d hate to think that this time around I may have to live with this forever.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 18, 2015 When I got a friend request a couple of days ago from a Lana L, I immediately noticed a resemblance to Alyssa, plus the location made me think of her as well. She’s from Lake Tahoe and I’m pretty sure that’s where Alyssa's parents live.

I then jumped on Alyssa's wall and found the “add friend” button no longer visible, and started to wonder if she’s been on my friend list all along and I somehow never noticed. Facebook is glitchy like that at times. Normally you’re notified when a friend accepts your request, but notifications sometimes fail. The ones that notify us of comments and likes weren’t working the other day. So glitches are nothing new there.

But then I found it strange that Lana wouldn’t answer my message asking how she found me. I asked her again on her wall and she said she just liked my cute rat profile picture and that we had it few mutual friends.

My first thought was… We do? I looked at her friend list but didn’t see any mutual friends and began to suspect that Andy may have put her up to friending me, probably to see if I was talking about him on my wall, or maybe even to steal some pictures in which to make his silly little Photoshop alterations with.

The truth is that unless I feel someone may stalk, pester or harm anyone, I don’t discuss those I have a falling out with on my wall. After I go directly to the source I will probably blog about it because that’s what journals are for.

But Lana, while continuing to remain oddly evasive, did acknowledge knowing the doctor, saying she had low thyroid too, Alyssa was a great lady, and she was glad I found her.

I then stated that she was no longer my doctor and asked if she was her doctor or if they were just friends. This question went unanswered as well.

I noticed Lana had a friend with Alyssa's last name and I added her. After she accepted I asked her how she knew Alyssa, but the only Alyssa C she knows is her four-year-old niece.

So then I checked Lana’s friend list and found that Alyssa wasn’t on it. Then I checked my last message to Alyssa and at the very top of it, it said that we weren’t connected on Facebook. Maybe she really did get the few friend requests I tried to send and she disabled friend requests or something. But did she ever get and read my messages?

No one in their area appeared to have visited my blog either unless they’re doing it secretly.

I sent another message to Lana which was not only ignored, but I found that she had unfriended me when I got up. Very strange and suspicious. I’m back to thinking Andy probably put her up to friending me. I tried to see if I could find his name on her friend list, but since he’s got me blocked, his name probably wouldn’t show up. Whatever he had her looking for… I’m not changing my mind. If I dump you a second time around (and especially a third) it’s forever. And no, it wasn’t for any one reason, including the fact that he’s a registered pervert, but for many reasons. I just don’t like the guy as a whole. I don’t hate him. I don’t think he’s a bad person. I don’t wish him any harm. I just don’t want anything to do with him.

If I’m wrong about him being behind it, then it could’ve very well been a scammer trying to pose as a sweepstakes site. For example, 4 people claiming to be from Women’s Freebies, one of whom tried to tell me I won a million dollars, a brand-new Dodge Ram, and a “lop top,” tried to friend me. First of all, Women’s Freebies doesn’t award prizes of such high value, and that’s not the way they go about notifying winners. Smaller prizes will usually email you, and larger prizes will usually send you a certified letter and call you. I was a professional sweeper for years. I’m not stupid and I know how it works. I found others who reported being contacted by the same scammers anyway.

Lana doesn’t seem like the typical spammer or scammer, though. She’s a real person with a real account. But she had to have friended me for some reason. I asked Rhonda if she knows Andy and told her why I’m suspicious of her friend. It’s no biggie, but I am curious.

Lastly, I posted a public note letting people know that if I don’t recognize their names or we haven’t talked before somewhere, I’m not adding them.

In one dream Tom and I were in the car getting ready to take off somewhere. Some crazy guy was making strange faces and hand signals in the rear window. Fortunately, we were able to pull away without hitting him.

Then I was running with what might’ve been my mother and Jesse over these grassy hills. Exhausted from our trek, we all collapsed next to each other to catch our breath.

In the last dream, Tom and I were trying to get an apartment back we once had that I just loved, LOL, even though I hate apartments in reality. There was even more traffic in front of it, but it wasn’t as close to the windows as it is to our house in real life.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 17, 2015 I started a little “drama log” seeing that I have now had three incidents in one week. First I have a major panic attack on the 9th that leaves me trembling uncontrollably afterward, and that was the most terrifying of all. Then on the 12th, I have an elevated pulse followed by the runs, and yesterday my heart raced me awake. Am I ever going to be able to live without being in fear of my own damn heart?

Tom thinks that within 2 to 4 weeks after I fully get acclimated again to 75s, the racy heart will back off and that 2016 will be virtually free of this shit. I wish I could believe him! I just hope he’s right! At times I totally feel like something up there is getting a genuine kick out of tormenting me with my health. I actually miss the days of worrying about money. All the little problems I had seemed like nothing, and the bigger problems didn’t seem so big in comparison to living in constant fear of what my own body may do. It is a truly torturous way to live, always wondering when the next attack is going to hit. I’m guessing my next one will be Sunday or Monday since I seem to be getting them every 3 to 4 days.

In the 90s I used to be afraid to go to bed for fear of having an asthma attack. A few years ago I was afraid to go to bed because of all the nasty dream premonitions I was having. Now I’m afraid to go to bed because of my heart, which also torments me while I’m wide awake. I’m either suffering or I’m worrying that I’m going to. I just want it all to end! I can’t afford to deal with this shit while we’re on vacation. Having to deal with my sleep issues is overwhelming enough. Like I said before, being tired is one thing, feeling like shit is another. In fact, my heart started racing again after Tom left and I had to take a lorazepam. sighs I’ll never get better. Never.

I always feel really warm when I wake up with one of these things and even when they occur when I’m awake. Tom thinks that because I was having a medication-related dream, it triggered the attack. Something about rinsing out a pill bottle that I was drinking from.

But if this were suddenly to end now, wouldn’t something new just come to replace it eventually?

Later…

Before I get into an even bigger mystery than the cracked mirror in the Indian diary (in my next entry), my energy levels have been good so far today as well as yesterday. Two days ago, however, I felt so blah. I didn’t even have the energy to work out that day.

After Tom left yesterday morning I felt a little anxious, my heart started to race, and I took a lorazepam which knocked me out several hours sooner than I’d have liked. Oh, so we’re going to play these anxiety games every day now? Really, I am so, so fucking sick of dealing with this shit. Once again I feel like I’ll never get back to being my usual self. Sometimes I even think of stopping my thyroid meds altogether as I’ve never needed anti-anxiety meds before starting the stuff. But I don’t want to gain a million pounds, always be dizzy, lose my hair and memory, feel freezing cold even in the summer, and a million other symptoms.

But it’s no wonder those with depression want to slap those who tell them to just smile and be happy. If only it were a choice and that simple! It rules us. We don’t rule it. Like it or not, I could say “fuck you” to anxiety and declare that I’m never again going to allow myself to feel anxious and that I’m in charge of my own mind and body, but that’s not the way life works. There’s only so much we can do, and I’m afraid we don’t have as much control as we’d often like to think we have.

I’ve also been getting headaches more than usual, right above my eyebrows or just above my right temple. Since the vast majority of the anxiety has backed off, I have been having coffee, though only one cup a day.

Oh, to be back in the days when I didn’t have a clue as to what this kind of anxiety was like and I was never afraid of my own heart. I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d rather be dirt poor all over again than go through this shit. Being poor was an easier kind of hard. I hope Tom’s right in that it’s just about my body needing another couple of weeks or so to readjust to the 75s. I’m still a million times better than on the 88s. The only time it really got scary was last week. But still… enough is enough already!

Meanwhile, I slept better. I started to overheat and almost had a racy heart, but after I got up to pee and then returned to bed, I was fine.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 15, 2015 Ok, this is too fucking spooky. I just went into the bathroom to pee, glanced at the counter, and saw that the little round mirror on the front cover of the diary I was recently given from India was cracked. A single slightly wavy line now runs across it. But I never dropped it or bumped it against anything! Nothing heavy fell on it either. I’ve learned that if you look hard enough you’ll find that there’s a logical explanation for things, which doesn’t involve any magical gods, fairies, angels or devils, but I can’t find one in this case. It’s almost spooky. Isn’t a broken mirror supposed to represent the start of a seven-year curse? The only thing I can think of is that it might have weakened over time from handling and pressure and it finally cracked.

The only thing in my life that includes angels is the adult coloring book I won in an Amazon instant win. Like I said, these days you have a better chance with instant wins than you do with random draws. Funny too, because I was just thinking how I have enough coloring books to last a long time and won’t need to shop for anymore for quite a while.

Andy picked a fine time to drive me away with his arrogant, know-it-all attitude because Ask completely changed the look and function of their site. It’s absolutely horrible and I know he would be pissed. Both of my accounts are now deactivated.

I don’t miss him at all or checking in and sharing pictures like we did for years. It was fun while it lasted, but there are so many other sites to share/view pictures on. I certainly don’t wish him any harm, but I don’t miss his repetitious and obsessive ways. Or his immaturity, selfishness, and airheaded ways. It’s no wonder he has remained single all these years. Until he can grow up, get over his trust issues, and stop being so judgmental and assuming too much, he will likely grow old and die alone, but hey, it’s his life. It’s not up to us to change people. All we can do is decide who we wish to have remain in our lives, and who it’s time to move on from. I always try to exercise my best judgment when it comes to these things. If I’m going to cut ties with somebody it’s going to be for a damn good reason. I’m not going to walk away because you fart too much or because you might think tarantulas look cool. I just got tired of the little insults and annoyances that added up over time, and when one is offended one too many times, it’s time to move on no matter how much they may be missing the point. As they say, we can explain something to someone, but we can’t make them get it.

Got a friend request on Facebook from a beautiful woman named Lana who bears a remarkable resemblance to Alyssa. This one has nicer eyes, though, and appears to be married and living in Nevada. The account looks legit and all that, but I’m still curious as to how she found me. I sent her a message and will decide later on whether or not to add her.

A while back Alison noticed a “Khayos” as one of the NaNoWriMo writers on their account on Twitter and brought it to my attention. At the time I doubted it was her because there was no mention of her obsession with rescuing feral cats. Just for the hell of it, I tweeted to her: Khayos from Kiwibox?

After not thinking I was going to hear from her, she replied with: Yes! OMG, a kiwi?

So Aly was right, and I followed her. We’ll see if I hear anything else from her. Her real name is Amber. She’s the one I kind of used to have fun bickering with on the old KB site, however childish it may have been. She was one of those who was attractive at the same time she wasn’t. She was in her early 20s at the time so now I’m guessing she’s in her late 20s.

Last night I had a very depressing dream about Kevin, a.k.a. Nervous. I gave him that nickname because when he felt challenged or you dared to disagree with him he would literally become nervous and shake all over. He was the guy that was obsessed with me back in Massachusetts in my 20s. He was a lot older than me. He died in the mid-90s of a heart attack at age 53.

I admit that in real life I did and said some mean things to the poor guy. Apparently, I reminded him of his ex-wife. Anyway, I admit I took advantage of his fondness for me and used the guy for rides, favors and money. Andy used to joke and say he sometimes wished he had his own personal slave like that. I didn’t have as much compassion or as much conscience back then, unfortunately. I would never bother with the guy these days, especially since the attraction wasn’t mutual. He was tall, mostly slender, and very ordinary-looking.

He was about 46 when we met. The landlords were bombing the building and ordered everybody out for a few hours. I had two guinea pigs and no car. He was getting into his little maroon Chevy Citation when I bravely opened the passenger side of his car, piggies in a cardboard box, and asked if he wanted company. This was in late 1986 or early 1987. Our “friendship” took off from there.

He was argumentative and arrogant, but damn was he loyal. If I asked him to jump off a bridge he probably would have. Like most of us in our youth, I could rarely go anywhere without getting hit on, so if anything the dork kept most of the guys at bay for me. Other than Tom, and very few other male exceptions, I still prefer women.

In the dream, however, I was living with him. I’m not sure if I was forced to or if I felt obligated to live with him because of how I treated him in the past. Of course I would never trade my husband for anyone no matter what history we may have and no matter what they looked like. But it seemed I did just that in the dream and was determined to get over Tom and deal with my depression and sadness over missing him. It was almost like I was punishing myself.

The dream started with Nervous and I discussing what we liked and didn’t like in bed, even though it was understood that just like in real life, our relationship would be strictly platonic. I told him that as long as he wasn’t verbally or emotionally abusive, I would stay.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” he said as far as putting tasty treats down there before – uhem – actually going down there.

“To each their own,” I told him, “but that wasn’t my thing.”

Then I was walking across a grassy area toward where he stood because he said earlier that he needed my help with something. Several other people were around and I suddenly became aware of the tight red dress I was wearing. I wondered if people found me sexy-looking or just fat.

He spotted a snake nearby and hit it with a shovel. When I approached him I asked if he still needed my help and he said no.

I turned and walked away and realized it was noon, Tom was due to visit one time to see where I would be living and say our goodbyes. Again, very, very sad dream.

I also remembered in the dream that my sister and others were coming to see me and I felt tears well up in my eyes consisting of a mix of sadness as well as excitement.

The second dream I had didn’t last as long. My parents were still alive and I had just returned to an apartment after visiting them. I lived alone and didn’t seem to know Tom. Panic gripped me when I realized I didn’t have my keys or my smartphone, and I raced back outside the building where several people were present. I asked if anybody had a cell phone I could use. People began to ignore me at first, but finally, a kind tall, slim black lady pulled a cell phone from her bag and held it up to me. That’s all I remember of that one.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 14, 2015 In one of my dreams last night Tom and I got into bed. He said something about being tired but still able to go a long way and then he asked if I was ready. I knew he was asking to have sex. I said I was, but then without thinking about it I rose from the bed and sat at a nearby table separating these orange rocks or beads by size. Then I felt bad for suddenly getting out of bed.

Nane was in one of my dreams and it was strange because I was seeing the dream through this other girl’s eyes. Nane and I were supposedly an item in person and I watched this girl approach her as she sat by a lake where she and I had just been swimming. The girl said she had something really important to tell her about me. Nane looked wary for a second and then the girl told her that she believed I was psychic. Nane sort of laughed at that point and said, “Oh, I thought you were going to tell me she was seeing someone else.”

In another dream, I was living in a huge house with a huge family, and I was also on probation and taking classes all day. My routine was to check in with my probation officer on the way to school each day. However, I couldn’t fall asleep one night. I sat in my room and when I saw it was 3 o’clock in the morning I started to get a little worried about how I would get enough sleep to function for the day. By 5 o’clock I’d pretty much given up. I fell into bed exhausted, trying to think of the best excuse for why I skipped checking in as well as school, figuring “I was up all night” wouldn’t cut it, getting old or not.

Later…

I’m still dealing with burning and itching right around where I pee and wondering just how correct Alyssa was with her enlarged hair follicle diagnosis. Should I be THIS itchy? I just wonder if I could have infected piss. I used the cream she gave me, then later a Vagisil wipe, then I rinsed off in the tub and I’m still itching. Usually one of these things helps it. Perhaps I need to use the cream twice a day for the full two weeks instead of just once a day here and there.

It will be interesting to see if my white blood cell count comes back too high when they do blood work on me in May. If this is still irritating me when I see A in June, and I’m sure it will be, I’ll bring it up. Anything is better than killer anxiety, though. Still, why must I always suffer in some way or another? Why can’t I get a break for a while? I’m now beginning to worry more about what problems I may have on vacation than how hard my sleep issues may be on me.

A coworker from India returned from a visit home and brought back gifts and gave Tom a gorgeous pen and little diary, as she called it. India’s really big on glitter, and colorful, shiny things, which I just love. I will use it to jot notes of whatever dreams I remember when I get up. Then we’ll eventually move someday and I’ll leave it here for the newcomers to try to figure out what the hell it means. ;)

The damn drain is now clogged after I fed it the remainder of my cod. What’s the point of having a disposal if all it’s going to do is choke on the fucking food we feed it?! Never should’ve gotten a new one. Gonna treat this sink just like most sinks I’ve had from now on… disposal-less!

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 13, 2015 Tammy confirmed that she did get my message (and isn’t on BP meds) even though it’s appearing as unseen, so yeah, the doctor could have (hopefully) gotten my message. Either way, if the doc stumbled onto my Facebook page from there and then into my blog, she did it in a way I can’t see.

Had a bit of a rough night last night but fortunately, it didn’t last long. I was watching TV when I noticed my heart was racing and beating a little hard. I got up and lay down on the bed but it continued to do so. Then my stomach hurt and I ended up having the runs. I took a Lorazepam after that, but I probably didn’t need one because my pulse seemed to start slowing down before it had a chance to set in. In fact, I was sitting there doing some coloring and thinking that it wasn’t going to make me drowsy when all of a sudden I felt intense drowsiness come over me. I climbed into bed and was astounded to sleep over 12 hours. I haven’t slept that long in years!

I woke up for a minute when the power cut out for a few seconds, kicking my sound machine off. Tom said there was a huge storm while I slept with tons of wind and rain. He also saw next door’s vehicle in their garage, so I guess they’re not on vacation. The garage light went off last night and it’s not on tonight. They were probably just at a Christmas party somewhere.

I wish Christmas was in the summer. It’s too cold to go riding around the park at night, so you don’t see much of the pretty lights and decorations unless you’re in a car. I miss riding around in the middle of the night, but we’re soon going to have plenty of reason to work out inside. We’re getting a new Bowflex home gym!!! We had one in 1999 which cost us $1200. As with any form of activity, it won’t make you lose weight if you’re not willing to cut your calories low enough to do so, but it definitely builds muscle and gets you in shape. Only these days you can get one that’s even better than the one we had and all for just $385. twirls excitedly

I mentioned to Tom how I kind of missed having one, and that I thought of getting one. This got him thinking about it and he was shocked to discover how much cheaper they are. I thought the cheapest one was $450, but nope! So we rearranged the living room since it’s something like 100” x 72”, and moved the treadmill closer to my desk so I can watch my show while I use it. Thank God for closed captioning since it’s a bit loud.

Anyway, last night I felt really cold. I was cold everywhere, especially my hands and the tip of my nose. I began to wonder if I was going a little hypo again, though I’d rather that than the constant hell I went through both physically and emotionally when I was on a higher dose. But then I got warm right before my heart raced and I wondered just the opposite. I mean my T4 couldn’t have dropped that much or else I’d feel a lot worse a lot more often. Still, I’m tired of these scattered spells here and there. That’s two heart “beat downs” in less than a week. Really hope to hell this doesn’t happen when we’re on vacation. I’d rather be a little tired than feel like shit. Just like last time, though, it happened after I ate quite a bit, so I really have to make sure I don’t overeat or even let myself get slightly full.

Tom believes he can and will lose weight, but I’ve accepted the fact that I’ll never have the willpower to put up with the hunger and sluggishness of lowering my calories consistently to lose weight. But we’re both determined to eat healthier, not overdo it, and he wants to become more active. He’s not as good with sticking to exercise routines as I am. He feels this will motivate him. Plus we also made more room for him to use his Wii easier.

Thank God for huge living rooms too, since it now houses a desk, a huge L-shaped couch, a treadmill, a rat cage, two 6’ fake trees, and soon our new home gym. So I’ll be a ripped fatty, LOL.

Also grabbed a few more fairy and animal figurines for my collection of 70-something pieces while he got some things he needed (on Amazon).

Had to return the pink Sakkas dress I ordered because it’s too big on me. The purple top I got fits fine, though.

I also had to switch back to my old mouse because I just didn’t like the feel of the new one. It also had a problem with the wheel clicker occasionally zooming out my windows instead of opening things in a new tab.

I checked out ant farms and wonder if it may be an interesting thing to have and observe. I laughed when I thought of my sister, who would no doubt say that only I could be interested in such a thing. LOL, well, it’s better than spiders.

Anyway, I’m finishing up the remaining granola bars and crackers and am slowly switching over to healthier snacks. I don’t know if dried fruit is as healthy as fresh fruit, but I got a little of both. Plus I have fish for meat instead of chicken and beef. I got soups, pasta, beans, and other high-protein foods, plus cherry tomatoes to snack on as well as dried peas. Dried cranberries are just ok, but the pineapples and banana chips are better. For fresh fruit, I got blueberries and grapes. Trying to do everything in moderation and not eat unless I’m really hungry. Not famished but hungry. Really hope this will lower both my cholesterol and BP! Will find out in May.

May.

Damn, that seems so far away.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 12, 2015 Their garage light is on next door. Wonder if they’re just out tonight or on vacation. Vacation would be nice as that’s a week or two off of hoping Bob doesn’t do any loud projects, even if it means that light has to be glaring through the kitchen window till they return.

So I won another coupon for another candy bar. Not very exciting, but better than no wins at all, I guess.

While I am always consistent with my journal, I have continued to be lazy as far as creative writing goes. Maybe my dreams would make good writing prompts in which to create silly but fun short little stories around. I don’t mean the dreams that only last a split second either. I mean more like last night’s dreams.

In one of them, I was walking with someone somewhere. It wasn’t here in the park. There were many people around, including Alyssa. I spotted her ahead of me but didn’t say anything to her. Then I started feeling dizzy and commented to the person I was walking with about it. I knew Alyssa heard me and I wondered if she’d want to help being a doctor and all that, or if she would just ignore me. The dream ended before I could find out.

In another dream, a heavy young woman kept insisting she knew me from a town called Pleasant, but I had no idea who she was. We were at a large restaurant in which I thought Tom accompanied me, but when I glanced away from the woman, I found my mother at my side. She guided me into another section of the restaurant with these ugly chandeliers hanging all over the place and ordered some rather disgusting-looking food.

“Is that chicken?” I asked her.

She said it was, but it was just “mashed” instead of in a roll.

In the last dream, I was stuck in some weird coed jail. At least the “waiting room” was coed. I was observing a guy who was propped up on a built-in cement bench sound asleep. He suddenly woke up and told someone with a laugh that since he was never assigned to a room, he never had to leave that bench whether he was asleep or not, until his release.

Shortly afterward I was moved to a room with rows of beds. The room wasn’t very large, though I don’t know how many roommates I had. Then I was given my mail for the day in which I received an anonymous letter. The letter started off saying horrible things (I’m not sure what), but then it went on to enclose a handful of very beautiful nature scenes, leaving me as baffled as ever.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 11, 2015 Wrote out a very different shopping list than I’m used to writing because this time I’m paying attention to nutrition labels and not calories. I got as many things low in cholesterol, fat and sodium as I could.

Last night I dropped one of the frozen dinners I’ll no longer be getting and what a fucking mess! Mashed potatoes were everywhere… on the counter, on the cabinets, on the floor, even in the recycle pail. I had to dump the items in it and wash out the pail. Then I mopped the floor.

Partly due to dropping the food, we decided to move the microwave out of the cubbyhole and onto the counter. Steaming food seeped through the plastic and burned me, causing it to slip out of my hand. This way I can yank things right out onto the counter to cool, instead of having to carry it over to the counter while it’s piping hot. The toaster oven and can opener are now living in the cubbyhole. We just swapped their places as the microwave is now where they were.

Tom picked up my inhaler on the way home from work, and wow. They’ve gotten pretty high-tech since I last used them in the early 2000s. They now have puff counters. Still hope I don’t ever have an emergency bad enough to need any of the 204 puffs available to me, but they’re here if I do.

Less than a week after I began sweeping again I hit my first win, if only for a coupon for a candy bar. I realize that these days, due to all the competition out there, one would have a much better chance with instant wins as opposed to random draws.

I just wish Roboform didn’t suck. It used to be great and then it got worse before I stopped sweeping regularly about 6 years ago. I would’ve thought by now they’d have improved it, but nope. Half the time it doesn’t work properly.

I haven’t been remembering much of my dreams lately. Just scattered bits and pieces, which make no sense.

Sent Doc O a Happy Holiday message on Facebook and I not only didn’t get a reply, but it doesn’t appear to have been seen either. Because she never got it? Or because she doesn’t want me knowing she saw it? Hmm… Tammy's messages are also appearing as unread yet she’s been on playing games. I’ll have to ask her if she got my question and ask if she’s on BP meds.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 10, 2015 Well, this is kind of embarrassing. Just seven hours after telling Dr. A how wonderful it’s been being anxiety-free, I had a panic attack. I got into bed just before midnight and noticed my heart was beating a little fast and hard. I thought maybe it was just because I had recently eaten. Meanwhile, life is good and I wasn’t worried about it… until it took off racing like a racehorse. Scared the living shit out of me too, and of course I was trembling uncontrollably as the adrenaline raced through my body. Since my current thyroid dosage can no longer affect me this way, I worried for a minute that I really was having a heart attack, but fortunately, Tom was home and he calmed me down relatively quickly, knowing it was just anxiety. He’s pretty sure I was just worried about my blood pressure.

Whatever it was, it's a very disappointing setback. Just when I thought I was free of these things for good, I’m reminded that I’m not totally exempt from them. They can strike anytime, anyplace.

So I took one of the lorazepams I was so sure I wouldn’t ever need again and fell asleep an hour later. I expected to wake up with my heart racing a few times throughout the night but I actually slept quite well.

Doc A also asked me about a pap smear, but it hasn’t been three years yet. She asked about a mammogram too, and I said I’d pass for now. Then she asked about a colonoscopy. I’ll definitely pass. She said to let her know when I’m ready. LOL, no one’s ever “ready” to have their boobs squeezed and cameras shoved up their ass.

Later…

We now have a possible travel plan. It’s just a matter of exactly when he receives his new passport. Royal Caribbean takes off on January 30th, which is a Saturday, and goes to two different cities in Mexico. We’ve learned that the tickets actually get cheaper if you wait until it gets close to the date of the trip, as the cruise lines push to fill up the remaining rooms. We would just hate to book this trip and then find that he doesn’t get his passport in time. I don’t understand why these things have to take so damn long in today’s day and age, but they do.

This trip would be for four nights, and we’re probably going to fly first class too. As short as I am, I don’t need the extra legroom, but it has so many other benefits, one of them being that you’re less likely to get stuck next to screaming kids. As long as they’re not sitting up front in the coach section, since there’s only a thin curtain between the two sections and not a soundproof wall, you get a more peaceful flight and much better service. Another benefit is that you only have two seats on each side so I wouldn’t have to climb over anybody other than Tom (I like window seats) to go to the bathroom or anything like that. It’s also easier to find seats available in first class since a lot of people can’t afford it.

His research found that Celebrity X cruises tend to be the most expensive while Princess is the cheapest. Cruises tend to be wild no matter what, so we would rather skip Princess, figuring there’s probably a reason why they’re so much cheaper. Like maybe that line is reserved for the rowdiest and rude of cruisers?

I was thinking of going almost vegan. As a friend and follower pointed out, anything from an animal is going to include cholesterol. I’m not saying I’ll give up stakes and fried chicken forever, but I’m going to try to focus more on pasta, potatoes, fish, fruits and veggies. I know I’ll never lose weight. I’ve gotten too old for that shit and I still have hypothyroidism. But one is never too old to eat healthier. Still working out most days, though. Tuna has less cholesterol than chicken and of course chicken has less cholesterol than beef. Salmon, sardines, tuna and mackerel are pretty healthy, and of course white skinless chicken is better than dark chicken with skin. The problem is that’s the only part of the chicken I like, so I’ll back off of the chicken for now as well as eggs, bacon and red meats. I just have to go easy on the pasta because it’s high-calorie. Just because I can’t lose weight doesn’t mean I want to gain it either, although I’m not holding back for a second when we’re on vacation!

My snacks would usually consist of 90-calorie granola bars or small bags of crackers. No more of that as items like that have trans fats in them. I printed out a list of foods high in trans fats. I’m considering dried fruit for snacks. The Mayo Clinic says they’re healthy as long as they don’t have partially hydrogenated vegetable oil.

We usually only do fast food two or three times a month, and last night on the way home from the doctor we agreed that that would be our last run for quite a while. If I were single I wouldn’t care if I died now or in my 60s or in my 80s, especially since I have no kids. But since my husband has another 30 years or so left to live, I don’t care to desert him so soon.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 9, 2015 My appointment with my PCP went smoothly and I am so glad to not have to see doctors again till March! Dentist in March, ENT in April, endo in May, PCP in June. Will have an eye exam somewhere in there, too. My vision’s been noticeably worse lately.

Anyway, traffic was the usual nightmare, especially coming back. We worried I was going to be late because Tom accidentally went to the lab instead. Realizing we had to go to Roseville instead, we raced as fast as we safely could and got there right on time without a minute to spare.

So I went through the usual process of checking in with the now-familiar staff since I’ve been there 4 times already and was given the same checklist that the shrink gave me just yesterday. I thought it was a bit weird, but filled it out anyway. It asks if you’re feeling worthless, like hurting yourself, having trouble concentrating, trouble sleeping, etc. Do they now give this to everyone, or did they just want to compare today’s answers to yesterday’s? Either way, I didn’t mind filling it out.

The doctor came in wearing one of those masks the dentists wear. She had a cold even though she didn’t sound sick.

My BP is still up, though I don’t know why. The high number was 160. Whitecoat syndrome? Or is this going to be my next problem? My guess is it’s still normal most of the time, but she asked that I check it at home periodically and let her know if it’s 140/90 or higher. I don’t care if it is. I don’t want any new medication!

She said I looked great for my age, and even the shrink said I looked younger than 50. Really? shrugs Benefits of being fat, I guess. Stretches those wrinkles taught. As for the weight aspect of it, I told her I’ve given up. I can’t do the low-calorie thing day after day, week after week, month after month. I can only try not to gain any more weight.

She said not to stress about it and that it’s all about portions and having half of your plate be a salad. I still don’t see myself ever losing much weight, if any. Young me was naturally skinny. Older me is naturally heavy. I do intend to eat healthier, though. I knew eggs and red meats were high in cholesterol, but she also warned me against fried foods and cheese. I didn’t know these things were high in cholesterol, but the fried foods definitely make sense. Also, the obvious… avoid overdoing the fast food and trans fats.

I’m hopeful that my thyroid, BP and cholesterol numbers will be great when I go to the labs in May, but somehow I doubt the numbers will be ideal. I’m still going to do my best to get them as close as I can, though the T4 should be good. Really, REALLY don’t want to have to take any additional medications. She knows I still fear medication in general. You can work through a traumatic event such as what I went through and you can get better, but I don’t think anyone ever fully gets back to where they were before a traumatic event.

I filled her in on the highlights of my meeting with Dr. L and asked about menopause and she said I’m at the age where you usually enter perimenopause.

I also told her about the asthma attack I had and she called in a Ventolin inhaler for me, and to let her know if I ever need it more than twice a week. Hopefully, I’ll never need it, but after that kick-ass attack for the first time in a decade, I like knowing it’s there just in case.

This was the friendliest the doc’s ever been since I’ve seen her, and again I wonder if Tom’s absence had anything to do with it (I left him in the waiting room this time). They always seem friendlier when I’m alone. We got to talking about our upcoming vacation, and how I danced in my 20s and became an author. She said that now she’s curious and will have to look me up. LOL, and assuming she’s got cookies enabled, I’ll be watching to see if she links into my blog. :)

She said she’s been in the country for 10 years. The climate in Ecuador must be so much nicer, though.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 8, 2015 Finally got to meet with the shrink today. Doctor L was very nice. I was a bit irritated with all the traffic we had to deal with going to and from Folsom, then the noisy waiting room, but we didn’t have to wait long.

What was surprising was the appearance of the place. It looked like the typical medical building Mercy would have and not the small office like what Dana and Stacey had with plush chairs. I also didn’t meet with the doctor in the same room where the nurse took me to take my vitals. My BP was a surprising 170/80. This alarmed the doctor a bit, though I assured her I was just wound up about seeing a new doctor, and when she had the nurse take my BP again on the way out it was 150/80. It’s almost always normal. I’m sure right now as I write this it’s 120/80. In looking at my BP measurements since switching to this medical group, 144 was my highest.

Anyway, after the first round of vitals, I was taken to another office where I expected to have to wait for the doctor, but the doctor was already there. She’s a tall, slim woman with dark hair that was piled up with a claw clip I liked that she said she got in Hawaii. She’s from Guatemala too, but I didn’t have any problems understanding her with her accent.

She asked for some past background, and even though I didn’t see what it had to do with the here and now, I told her a little about my bio family, the foster homes and Valleyhead. Even how I would cut myself as a teen and jumped out a window and broke my arm. The system was very different then, as we discussed, and the stigma was even worse. Instead of receiving help for these things I totally regret doing, I was ostracized and made to feel even worse. Shrinks were also too quick to drug their patients up instead of getting to the root cause of things by talking and taking other healthier, safer measures.

I told her I felt that for the most part, it was a waste of our time and money to see her because had my old doctors simply listened to me and not withheld so much information from me, then we could have just lowered my thyroid medication dose the first time around and 95% of the anxiety I was referred to her about would’ve backed off. She understood, but at the same time said they were a caring group and were just looking out for me.

I told her about my old endo, of course, and the drama I went through when my T4 got too high. I said that while I fear medication in general and tend to be prone to side effects, I’m fine on my current thyroid dose and am ok with taking low dosages of lorazepam as needed, but only as needed. I hope to never need the stuff again, but it’s still nice to know I have it if I do. The bottle I have is over a year old now, since I got it from Alyssa, which I’ll refer to her as now, and so she called me in a new one and said I could get refills from my PCP. Hopefully, I’ll never need to do that, though. I hate being dependent on things other than oxygen, water and food same as anyone else. After I broke my cigarette and Navane habits in the '90s, then I became dependent on sound machines, then lotion, then lip balm, then glasses, then thyroid medication, and now anti-bacterial soap so I can have a slightly itchy crotch instead of a seriously itchy one.

I thought we were going to talk more about what happened that led to my referral to her as opposed to the past, but she asked a lot about the past and my family. When we hit upon the subject of my sleep disorder she asked if I’d taken any action where that’s concerned and I said no because it wasn’t much of an issue since I work at home and there isn’t any cure for it, but as she said, it might be a good idea to look into it since I can never know how it may help in the end. Yeah, maybe so, and it definitely would be more convenient to always be on days. Just not right now. Right now I just want to enjoy the fact that after tomorrow I will be appointment-free till March! Yes!

Then it was off to Jack’s for burgers and fries where some pissed-off black guy was shouting that he was tired of waiting for his tacos. I wondered if he’d pull a gun out and get trigger-happy, but fortunately, he didn’t.

Still entering sweeps, most of which are pretty crappy these days compared to years ago. They just don’t have as many big prizes anymore, and again, I don’t feel I can win like I used to.

The park and Bob have been very annoying during the daytime. People are constantly landscaping, along with the park, and Bob was using his saw really early yesterday morning I think to repair his trellis or something.

Tom trimmed the Cypress trees and put a lot of stuff on the street this evening for tomorrow’s bulk trash pick-up. The old toilets, a couple of chairs, a water dispenser, the old disposal, the boxes the toilets came in that are filled with tree clippings as well as old hoses.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 7, 2015 This can’t go on, I realized earlier as I sat deep in thought by the window. If you’ve had this many doubts this often over the years about your friendship with Andy, then maybe it really is time to move on.

It’s true. We’re just too damn different. Our only common ground is collecting photos, and our tastes in that differ as well. Never expected or wanted anyone to be a carbon copy of myself, but you gotta have at least some common ground, don’t you? He’s him and I’m me, but that’s so very hard for him to accept and deal with. He automatically assumes others feel, think, believe and do the same things he does, and I have to remind him that hey, we’re not all needy of this and that. We’re not all into the God fantasy or being chased by devils because we don’t embrace Him with open arms. We don’t all want tons of friends. We’re not all oozing with jealousy. We’re not all obsessed with weight and appearance. We may be when we’re younger, but most people grow up and quit worrying about how others see them.

But if he believes the sky is gray and you say no, it’s blue, then you’re a liar.

But it isn’t just about us being different. It’s about me being offended, frustrated and annoyed time and time again. I get tired of the insults. Tired of the negativity. Tired of his know-it-all attitude. Tired of waiting for him to catch on and get things. Tired of having to repeat myself, even if he may not be pretending to be forgetful as a way of mindfucking me and further adding to my frustration and annoyance. I understand his years of smoking pot led to severe memory loss and maybe even his ability to process and learn things. He’s not very perceptive and he can be incredibly paranoid, too.

And no, he was never stupid. But he’d often say stupid things that just made me want to reach out and slap him awake one too many times. I will always remember and appreciate the good times, but I’m feeling more and more like it’s time to move on. I may not be perfect myself, but I’m tired of his negativity just because he’s so miserable and unhappy with his own life. I’m tired of the immaturity. I’m tired of the repetition. I’m tired of the stupidity, intentional or not. Again, not that he’s literally stupid, but more that he acts stupid at times and makes me feel like I’m talking to a 15-year-old.

We met up for the second time in life when he was 26 and I was 22, yet I feel like he’s forever 26 while I’ve grown, matured and moved on. We all have an “immature” side of sorts. But his star-struck ways and dreamy obsession with celebrities, for example, is something you do in your teens and 20s. Not your 50s.

I’m also tired of him thinking he knows it all where I’m concerned. Yes, he knows me very well. Give him a dozen dresses and ask him which one he thinks I’d like best and he’ll almost certainly hit the nail on the head. But he doesn’t literally know it all any more than I do and when he keeps insisting he knows something he doesn’t, that’s where I get annoyed and even offended. When you keep insisting something’s the other way around (especially when the other person should have a much better idea than you do of just how it is), you’re basically calling them a liar and that’s offensive. Like me insisting France isn’t in Europe. No matter how much I may believe that I’d still be 100% incorrect.

Even though he’s apologized for the HORRIBLY mean and false statements and assumptions he’s made concerning my sleep issues, my driving phobia, my husband, the people that screwed me in Arizona, and my MIL, the hurt and anger have stayed with me.

When you expect people not to judge you but then you judge them for the number of friends they have, for example, that’s not only offensive, but it seriously makes me question the value of your friendship. True friends don’t prank call the shit out of someone they knew was dirt poor at the time, stalk and harass them online, then claim they’re anti-revenge, then say the many mean, untrue and hurtful things he’s said to me over the last few years and insult my husband while he’s at it. My husband and I have never once judged or condemned him for the way he is. We’ve always accepted him as is. Obviously, I can no longer do that, but that’s the difference between him and me… he judges, critiques, condemns, pushes and tries to change those he feels should mirror his ways more than they do. I just walk away from them altogether. Period. He can be just as lacking in compassion and selfish as he can be compassionate and generous. So many times on Ask I’d mention doing this or doing that and would feel a little hurt when he wouldn’t ask me about it, or how a doctor’s appointment went. I felt like he just didn’t care at times and like it was all about him.

I was ready to drop him after the second offense, but the guilt of having dumped him after 11 years or so back in 1999 ate at me and I felt obligated to put up with it. But now I realize and remember WHY I cut ties with him in 1999 in the first place, and that’s for the very same reason I’m doing it now. I didn’t feel guilty for letting my abusive mother go and I’m not going to feel guilty for letting him go. Really, it’s ok to pick and choose our friends… without guilt. I can walk away despite the things I said and did wrong in the past. The past is the past after all and can never be changed anyway. Sometimes we really do gotta look out for ourselves and do what’s best for us, even if that means throwing in the towel and moving on altogether. But for a while, I couldn’t do this. Why? Because I felt so bad for dumping him 16 years ago, that’s why. I also knew his mother and sisters would take it hard if I let him go again, but you know what? I don’t care what they think. No disrespect to them, but again, sometimes we just gotta worry about ourselves and not what others think or how they’re going to take things. How they react or feel about things is up to them and not my responsibility to prevent or control.

It isn’t just the big things, but the little things that irritate me as well at times. Maybe it shouldn’t as I realize this isn’t harming anyone, but when he’d post pics of teens or college kids flipping the camera off, for example, I couldn’t help but think how immature it was. I mean, this is the kind of silly thing a young person gets off on and finds amusing, not older folks. Again, I realize there’s no real harm in his doing this, but it does tell me a thing or two about his personality.

It all started when I excitedly told him about the job I started and instead of getting a “Good for you!” or a “Good luck,” or an “I’m happy for you,” I get, “You’ll be sick of it in 3 weeks for cutting into your daily grind.”

When I assured him it wouldn’t and why, he continued with the negativity and the arguing, insisting he knew me well. Yeah? Well, I know myself even better. This is the same work I did from 2005-2008 and I loved it (I told him I’m entering sweeps for someone else and a few other things when in fact Tom’s just giving me $100 a month to sweep for him which is a very decent amount). It also didn’t interfere with my day-to-day life at all as it only takes a couple of hours a day to do and I don’t even have to do it all at once. I only stopped because the economy went bad and I stopped winning.

At the risk of sounding negative myself, I did tell him that I don’t think I can win for us. I’m going to try my best, but honestly, it’s not so much about the economy as it is about the competition. When I was supplementing our income, mostly in Oregon, by sweeps and contests, you typically had a few hundred to a few thousand entrants. Now you’ve got many, many thousands, and even millions in some cases.

Win or lose, I can still write, read, listen to music, watch shows, interact with friends online, clean the house, care for the rats, spend time with my husband, take showers, eat meals, exercise, go out to stores, and live life.

But everybody’s a liar to him. That’s just how he is. He may truly prefer his solitude same as I do, but did he ever think the reason he can’t get that many decent friends or a BF might be because of HIM? Just like blacks aren’t always shit on for being black, maybe he’s not shit on as much as he may think he is for being gay, but for being annoying.

Well, he may know a lot, but he doesn’t always know it all and not everybody’s lying to him. He flatters himself too much if he thinks he has enough of a hold or any kind of power or authority over others that they would feel the automatic need to lie to him about things. As if he could use the truth against them somehow?

I did tell him earlier that I was contemplating taking a break from him (though I think a permanent break would be best) and he went into his typical counter-attacking mode by saying something about me pissing him off 2 years ago for whatever reason, and how he almost thought of taking a break from me then as well. I don’t remember what he’s talking about and I don’t care. It was when I realized I didn’t care that I knew I was losing my desire to continue putting any work into our friendship, which gets to be more work than any friendship should be and a little too often. As they say, when you lose the will to argue, the friendship has worn off. Why tell him he’s the same exact guy he was at 26, minus the pot and ciggies? He’ll not only turn it around and say the same of me (though I wasn’t a pothead), but he won’t see what I see. I don’t know if he’s not smart enough to see that he’s never grown or matured as a person or intellectually or if he wouldn’t want to see it. I only know that one can’t make people see or believe what they don’t want to. It’s up to him to be the one to take a good long look in the mirror without bullshitting himself. No one can do that for him. In the past, I would at least let someone know why I was walking away from them, but as I said, I no longer have the will or the desire to argue, defend or explain myself to him. I’m just going to make a clean break. Any further messages, emails, comments, calls or postal mail I may get from him will go unread and deleted/dumped as soon as I know it’s from him or a name I don’t recognize. I will give him the journal copies I set aside for him since he’s always been afraid to go directly to my blog for some reason, claiming it’s “too hard” to keep track of where he left off that way.

I wish him the best of luck and I hope happier times find their way to him soon enough and that he will someday see life in a more positive way, work through his trust issues, and be less offensive to others so he can have all the friends he thought I should have. I’m sorry he lives in a shitty neighborhood and that the people he cleans for are homophobic sickos who shit on him as well, but I don’t feel the need to be all negative just because things are going well for me and not for him. Looking ahead at what may go wrong with a particular plan for the sake of looking out for yourself is one thing, but always being negative is another. The guy totally sees the glass as half empty.

Lastly, I get tired of having to pick, choose and censor my words, be it directly to him or on Facebook, knowing how paranoid and sensitive he is, always taking things personally.

Later…

Just thought I’d do a private entry while Tom is out picking up our prescriptions at Walmart and getting a new passport. Well, now that he found the cards you’re supposed to use if you lose your old passport, he can at least get the process underway. Hopefully, it won’t take too long. If worse comes to absolute worst, we’ll just go to Florida only.

I wish there was an option to do some private tweets instead of having to be all or nothing. I could use Histofme for the private tweets or just save private things for private entries. I definitely feel a sense of freedom in my writing now that I have cut ties with Andy, and I also don’t feel a shred of guilt for doing it either. I’m confident I did the right thing. Having to censor journals online is one thing, but I would also want to add things in for him or edit out certain things and it was a real pain in the ass. I did so much for that guy and for what? Because he was too stupid or too afraid to go to the blog? Maybe even too lazy? Even Maliheh would say she was “spoiled” into getting it via email.

Anyway, I was a little surprised that while he didn’t deactivate his Ask account like I deactivated the one I used with him, he blocked me on Facebook. Then I realized it was probably because of Norma. This way he can do to me what he did to his brother and say all kinds of nasty things about me without me seeing Norma’s response to it. At least I think that’s why he did it.

If it were five years ago I would worry about him harassing me and maybe those I’m close to as well, but I don’t see him doing that nowadays, to be honest. I sure hope that by now he’s at least above and beyond that kind of childish revenge anyway.

His shit has really made me appreciate Aly’s friendship all the more. She has never falsely accused me of lying, made fun of my fears and phobias, come off as insensitive, tried to judge or change me, or argued every other thing I say. She’s never been pushy and she cares enough to remember the things I tell her and to ask about what’s going on with me.

I got a friend request from a stranger. No, it’s not connected to Andy because the request came in before he knew I dumped him. I asked if we had spoken anywhere before and they answered in Thai. Google Translate let me know that they were spammers. Wanted to sell me some diet shit or something. The person ended up doing me a favor because I learned something from them. Facebook now has the option of making the message appear to be unseen unless you click “Accept” to allow them to know you saw it. I clicked “Decline” and I immediately thought of Doc C. I seldom get spam so I have no idea how long this feature has existed. All I know is that in the past if you wanted to read something it would appear as having been read, but you could run and mark it as unread once again once you were done.

So she and Nane may very well be reading my messages after all. I haven’t sent Nane a message in a long time and I have no desire to in the future, but I still wouldn’t mind giving Dr. C a piece of my mind where the meds and anxiety were concerned. Maybe I should let her know just how much info Dr. D withheld from me and that she was wrong in blaming most if not all of it on me instead of where it belonged… on the meds. Not that I have anything against her or think she was a bad doctor in general. But maybe she can learn from me and it might help others she encounters who are going through the same thing.

I still peek in on her out of curiosity from time to time, and she’s still with the black guy. In fact, he must be from DC because she mentioned that she went there and met the family.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 6, 2015 Yesterday we took the bikes out, but after just one trip around the circle, I had to come back. It's just too damn cold out there! Really, I don’t want to ride till the spring. I’ll stick to treadmilling for now.

People are starting to have more company due to the holidays and that gets annoying with all the car door slamming.

We installed the new garbage disposal yesterday and a handful of other things around the house.

This morning we went to Walmart but didn’t get much. I wanted to find a long shirt or sweater for my black leggings and asked the girl what she recommended. She laughed and said, “Let’s get you out of the plus size. You’re about a medium, right?”

I said yes and she showed me some options, only I wasn’t impressed with anything I saw. There were almost too many choices, making it seem overwhelming and like I didn’t know where to begin since everything seemed to blend in. I realized I’d be better off shopping online where I can search for specific styles, colors and measurements.

I’d rather be laughed at than run over. Yeah, some psycho on a moped tried to run me over in my dreams last night. Only we were indoors and I was standing in the middle of a long corridor in a large building somewhere. I was with someone, though I don’t know who, and since they were riding too fast to stick a leg out and kick off the bike, we had to scramble into an alcove as fast as we could.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 5, 2015 Now that the economy is better, Tom is going to be “hiring” me to enter sweeps for half a year or so and to manage his AARP and Coke Rewards accounts since I have more free time than he does. I highly doubt I can win much of anything with literally millions of people entering for things at just a simple click of a button, good economy or not, but I’ll enter anyway. It’s about the number of entrants more than the economy. When I was winning you’d have a few hundred to a few thousand entrants. Not 100K to millions of entrants.

Went to Michael’s yesterday and I swear I never saw so many coloring books and one spot in my entire life. I ended up getting six of them… butterflies, flowers, abstract, etc.

Got a GREAT deal on a shot glass display case I intend to use for my animal figurines. The ones that will fit in any way. It was half off so it only cost $30. Those things usually run around $80.

It was kind of weird that they had pajama bottoms being an arts and crafts store, but I loved the ones with the rainbow-colored leopard spots, so I grabbed that and a bright pink-orange T-shirt to go with it.

Lastly, we got the prettiest pair of scissors we ever had, LOL. It’s got a pink and purple design on the handle along with blue rhinestones in the center and blue blades.

I spent most of the rest of the day eating a lot and being lazy. I deserved it. One doesn’t turn 50 every day. Then I dreamed that Hoodie started purring like a cat, haha.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 4, 2015 As usual, I only saw the headline and didn’t read the article, but some black actress has been charged with assaulting a 17-year-old. How black is that? And let me guess… I go down for 6 months, plus probation for a fictitious letter all because my “victim” was black, but this black chick will get a slap on the wrist, right? Famous or not, rich or not, black or not, I’ll never understand why violent crimes are taken so much less seriously than things people supposedly say. Even theft gets harsher sentences. Still, the blacker you are these days, the less likely you are to be held accountable for your actions.

I just don’t understand not only why we don’t do something about our deadly Muslims, but why not these violent, vicious, hateful, race card playing, rioting, looting blacks, too? Together they have ruined so, so many lives. Yet we keep making excuses for the blacks because they had it rough 100 years ago. Well, so did my Jewish ancestors! These two groups need to be addressed and dealt with appropriately!

So now I’m half a century old! Pretty damn amazing and exciting considering that I once doubted I’d ever make it to 30.

I don’t remember turning 10 or even 20, but my 30th birthday sucked (we were having the sex/baby fights we’d often have back then), my 40th was ok, and my 50th is great. I’m not talking about just that day, but my overall life at the time. I didn’t start journaling till I was almost 22, so I’ll have to look back to see what I did that day. I only know I was in the Pacific Northwest at the time. Turned 10 and 20 in Massachusetts, 30 in Arizona, 40 in Oregon, and 50 in California. What state will I turn 60 in?

I saw a headline about something about diabetes medication that could extend your life to 120 years. I definitely must keep active and keep my weight down so I and less likely to become diabetic! As it is my hubby’s 8 years older, though his family medical history isn’t nearly as bad as mine.

My birthday wishes actually started on Facebook at 3:30 yesterday afternoon since I have friends overseas. It’s funny how they start off in other languages, and then switch to English. LOL

I slept well and will be going out today. My heart did race me awake a couple of nights ago, but I had to get up and pee anyway, and it slowed down really fast. Getting overheated or going through menopause is going to do that to me at times, anxious or not.

We got some good rain yesterday but today will be 60° and sunny. If it’s under 70° it’s too cold.

Tammy and I exchanged Facebook voice posts. They’re a pain in the ass, but easier than typing. It’s also easier than chatting live by phone because even with a cell, going to the bathroom if you need to is still a pain in the ass. Facebook is more convenient.

She’s been having fun gardening and shared some pics. Wish the outside of our place looked as good! She’s got the perfect amount of plants. Here it looks like they tried to sloppily jam in as much as they could fit. If I could snap my fingers I’d have mostly white gravel with a few scattered palms.

She still deals with the pain of that fibromyalgia which is said to be a very complex disease that affects the entire body. Damn! And I thought having my thyroid attacked was bad. She also said something about a procedure they’re going to do on her legs, and if it works they’ll cut some nerves so she’s not in as much pain every day. They oughta cut my ear nerves that they damaged, but I’d hardly describe what I go through as excruciating as it is in her case. Mine’s just annoyingly uncomfortable and it’s not constant.

Mark will have to work some of the time, but she’s looking forward to showing us around and showing me some pics. I don’t know why, but at first, I thought it had to do with our parents, and well, no one wants to spend much time discussing those they don’t like for whatever reason and that was abusive to them, right? But she assured me the vacation will be all about us, and that the pics consist of the girls and some of us when we were younger. I felt bad for assuming incorrectly, but hey, it happens at times. As I told her, though, I would never deliberately try to offend her. We’re too old for that shit, and without negative influences butting in and trying to pin us against each other like our parents and brother often loved to do, having an enjoyable relationship as sisters should be much easier.

Oh, I can tell you that the day I get to run into my big sis’s arms and hug my nieces for the first time in 24 years (she thought it was 27 or 28, though 24 is still too damn long), it’s going to be one serious emotional moment. It’ll just be the opposite this time; I’ll have less hair and more of me. Haha, she’s never seen me 24 pounds overweight or with glasses.

Going grocery shopping today, as well as out to some stores, and this will be the first time I will buy foods based on calories AND cholesterol amounts, in an effort to bring my cholesterol down even more.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 3, 2015 This is my first entry with my new solar keyboard and my new dress. The keyboard is easier to adapt to than I thought it would be. I can see why Tom would love his. I’m glad I got mine in silver instead of black. The keys are more visible in dimmer light this way, even if I rarely look at them. The only key I’m not seeing is a refresh key. Love how it’s wireless and can stay charged for up to 3 months even in darkness. It’s definitely worth it for any Mac user, though I suppose they may have one that’ll work with Windows.

So sad about the mass shootings in San Bernardino. Yeah, let’s all “pray” for them even if they’re dead now, because “thoughts and prayers” really do help keep those crazy gunmen in check. Seriously, I know one has a right to their own personal beliefs, but sometimes you just want to grab a needle and pop people’s little fantasy bubbles. I'm not for banning guns altogether as I believe in the right to bear arms for personal protection, but we definitely need to start doing background checks on people. REAL background checks.

Got a call from my PCP's office yesterday. First I thought she was calling to tell me she called in a statin prescription, which I definitely don't want to take with all the medication nightmares I've been through. However, all she said was that it was better (the thyroid meds brought it down) and to do the labs again in 3 months. Yes! As I told her, and plan to tell Doc A on the 9th, I’m actively doing things to help it even more by watching how I eat. I’m just relieved to know she’s not going to try to push statins on me when I see her. I just want to ask her a few questions about menopause, get an inhaler in case of an emergency, and get out.

I also got a call from the shrink’s office. My first thought was oh no! Don’t you dare cancel on me. I just want to get you over with! But all they wanted was to bump me up an hour on the same day. No prob.

Yesterday was surprisingly quiet with one disappointment. The house that’s off by the driveway corner of our house is for sale and it’s a house with a garage. I’ve only heard sawing from that particular garage 2 or 3 times since we’ve lived here, but since that’s what most old people seem to think that’s what garages are for I dread what may move in there, not to mention all the traffic as they show it and move. With my shit luck, they’ll have a loud car stereo or a motorcycle.

Chatted briefly with our really nice mailwoman who delivers on Joe’s day off. That’s our regular. She loves this route since she can use the bathroom at the clubhouse, has no side streets, no vicious dogs to worry about, etc. She tells Joe to hurry up and retire so she can bid on this route.

On the way back from the mailboxes, I caught Bob as he was pulling his golf clubs from Jim’s trunk. So that’s where those two go, huh? Anyway, I waved to Jim and Bob called out a hello. I then asked Bob if he’s had any problems with theft in the nearly 30 years he’s been here. Never, he said. That’s when I told him my bike was stolen and he was quite shocked, pointing out how he leaves his bike out all the time. Yeah, but what I didn’t tell him is that his is a boring typical bike. Mine was a definite eye-catcher.

Speaking of bikes, I was riding one in my dreams last night, only its front wheel was bent.

Then someone tried to tell me that the cast of the show I watch, Criminal Minds, were really FBI agents in real life.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 2, 2015 I was all set to do an entry, fingers poised over the keyboard. But then I realized I didn’t have anything to say. The only thing I can say is that the landscaping drove me crazy from 7:30 yesterday morning until around noon. I could hear it in various sections of the park. I still can’t believe how much daytime noise I hear here. It’s just ridiculous at times.

I also got a message from an Amazon seller saying that one of the animal figurines I ordered was out of stock. Then why did they have it listed?

My new keyboard arrives today and I’m hoping I can get used to it easily enough as I don’t usually do well with change.

I guess that’s it. I think I will go watch my show while it’s still dark and quiet.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 1, 2015 I didn’t read the article, but when I saw a headline about a black guy being arrested for making threats against whites, it put a smile on my face. It’s about time they were held accountable for threats against us, just like we’re held accountable for threats against them. NO Group should ever be allowed to threaten another. It pissed me off how we would just laugh off their threats for the longest time. Well, the more you allow someone to get away with something, the more they’ll do it. We can’t say we're striving for equality if we allow certain people to do things that we don't allow others to do. The double standards simply aren’t fair.

Because my cholesterol is bad but not THAT bad, I’ve decided to eat healthier and less of it, too. I prefer natural remedies to pills and I think I can get it pretty damn close to okay. You know that IF diet I mentioned being the only thing that works for me? Well, I don’t want to damage my metabolism any further by not eating for the first 8 hours of my day, so I’m having little things along the way to “trick” my body into thinking it’s not being starved the first half of its day. Most importantly, I need to back off the red meat.

An important function key on my keyboard is getting stuck a lot, so since Tom recommended the keyboard he’s been using which is specially made for Macs, we ordered me one. Only his is black and mine will be silver. Its batteries are sealed inside and should never need replacing. It’s wireless and solar charges in both natural and unnatural light. I’ll have to keep my nails shorter with chiclet keys, but it’s a full-size keyboard with a very similar layout to the one that I’m so used to.

Tom was amazingly productive on his days off. He took apart and cleaned the treadmill. He also tightened a bolt that was causing the platform to rattle a bit. Then he printed out tablet stands on the 3D printer.

Really hope it’s not as noisy as yesterday was. Between the park doing the streets and common area, and Bob, I had to listen to over an hour of landscaping and it’s totally annoying. But the house across the street is on for today and I’m sure others will be running something loud somewhere. If it were up to me I’d always be on nights unless I had appointments.

I had a dream I was visiting my nieces. Becky had to run some errands, so I hung out with Sarah and the 2 or 3 kids she was babysitting. It was Halloween and we were making costumes. She asked if I figured out what I wanted to be yet and I said no, and that with my luck I wouldn’t figure it out until it was time to go. Then she went to give me a hug but I quickly pulled back because I spotted a spider on the wall behind her. She grabbed a can of bug spray and started spraying the wall furiously, LOL.

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calpalirwin · 3 years ago

Text

The Falcon and the Newlyweds

Summary: After Steve travels back in time to reunite you and Bucky, he retires as Captain America, but you’re just getting started. (aka exactly like TFATWS but better?)

A/N: All credits to original owners/writers of TFATWS series. Added details/characters and minor storyline changes are of my own imagination.

Word Count: 6.2k

And away, and away we go!

Episode 5

When Sam suggested the three of you go find John, you shook your head vehemently. “No. No, I don’t want to,” you whispered.

“Doll, we’re afraid we’re gonna hurt him, too,” Bucky admitted.

You still continued to shake your head. “I-I’m not worried about us… I-”

“Oh…” Bucky said in sad realization. “Oh, doll. You don’t have to be afraid of him. He lost control, and I think even he knows that. He’s still the idiot we hate. And yeah, by the looks of it he managed to snag a vial of the serum, which makes him like me now.” Bucky shuddered at the thought. “But someone needs to find him.”

“I don’t want to…”

“That’s okay. Sam and I can go. We can take you back to the apartment, and then Sam and I can go.”

“No. Bucky you can’t go.”

“I’m not letting Sam go by himself.”

You looked over at Sam, who was standing there with his hands in his pockets. “Look, Y/N. I know you saw an ugly side to John. I get that fear. Okay? I do. Buck used to scare me the way John just scared you. But Buck’s right. Someone has to find him, and it’s better if we do it. And look, throughout all of this, have Buck and I ever let you get close to getting hurt?”

“No…”

“Exactly. And if it makes you feel better, Buck and I will do the talking. Just come with us so we know you’re not alone. Please?”

“Okay,” you finally nodded. “But please don’t fight him if you don’t have to.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say that, much less agree with it,” Bucky tried to joke. “Sam, you still got Sharon tracking him?”

“Yeah, c’mon.”

~~~

Sam led the way to a building that was closed off for construction, easily locating John inside. “Walker,” Sam started.

“You guys should see a medic,” John interrupted. “You don’t look so good.” Long gone was the high and mighty tone he usually addressed you all with. His tone was also void of any attitude or malice. It was chilling to see him looking and sounding so void.

“Stop, Walker,” Sam started again, as John started to walk past you all.

“What?” he scoffed, the attitude and raised voice coming out. “You saw what happened. You know what I had to do. I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!”

“He didn’t kill Lemar, John,” Bucky said simply, keeping his own tone calm to not anger the other man, and cause another outburst of rage. “Don’t go down that road. Believe me, it doesn’t end well.” Sage advice from one previously unhinged super soldier to a currently unhinged one.

“I’m not like you,” John insisted.

Bucky gave a sad shake of his head, and you gripped his hand in yours reassuringly. If John didn’t want to listen to someone who’d been where’d he’d been, and under much worse conditions, that was on John, not Bucky.

“Listen,” Sam stepped in. “It was the heat of the battle, okay? If you explain what happened, they may consider your record. We don’t want anyone else to get hurt. John, you gotta give me the shield, man.”

Slow realization swept across John’s face. “Oh… so that’s what this is. You almost got me. I should’ve known when she didn’t have any smartmouthed remarks for me.” His gaze swept over you, chillingly so.

“Mistakes happen,” you said, your voice quiet. “Let them help you so this doesn’t get worse.”

“You don’t wanna do this,” John said, his attention back on Bucky and Sam.

“Yeah, we do,” Bucky responded.

There was a momentary pause as Bucky and Sam looked at each other, and nodded. In a swift movement, Bucky guided you backwards with his arm, then advanced on John with Sam.

Two against one, you watched as Bucky and Sam tried to outfight John, punches and kicks flying in every direction, vibranium fist colliding with vibranium shield. You pressed yourself against a wall, making yourself as small as possible, heart hammering in your chest as you watched the scene unfold.

Any fear you had turned to blood boiling rage when John chucked the shield, nailing Bucky in the chest as sending him crashing backwards as John advanced, Sam lying on the floor from a hit he’d taken.

“Why are you making me do this?!” you heard John scream as he pressed the shield into Bucky, pinning him between the metal and construction vehicle. He grabbed the shield that Bucky had a firm grip on, throwing Bucky sideways across the warehouse.

Seeing red, you quietly reached down to pull out a knife. Aside from the shootout in Madripoor, you never needed to use any of the weapons strategically placed throughout your suit. And despite everything, you didn’t actually want to shoot John, mostly at the risk of missing and hitting either Bucky or Sam. But while John wasn’t exactly in stabbing range, and you weren’t all that amped to get into stabbing range, you could throw it.

With a slow breath, you adjusted the sharp steel in your hand. You took aim, chucking the knife with as much accuracy and force as you could, watching as the blade hurled end over end before sinking into John’s upper thigh, at the very convenient time that Sam flew straight into him. “This isn’t you, John,” Sam breathed heavily as both men stood face to face.

“We could’ve been a team…”

Not liking the way John didn’t appear ready to give up, Sam launched a rope that locked into the shield, engaging in a weirdly combative game of tug of war.

John lost his grip, and the rope came loose, the shield clattering against the ground. If you were fast enough, you could reach out and snag it. But with Bucky still on the ground himself, Sam holding back John for you didn’t inspire much confidence. Especially when both men dove for the shield themselves. But when Sam tackled John away from grabbing it, both men rolling further away from you, and the shield, you took your chance.

“I. Am. Captain America!” John screamed as he pinned Sam down, ripping Sam’s wings off his suit.

“No, you’re not!” you said, charging into John with the shield with all your might. John’s body rolled off Sam’s, and yours rolled with the shield, clinging on to it for all you were worth as you and John both staggered to your feet. “Shit,” you breathed with a happy grin. “That was cool!” Then, your eyes went wide, before you screwed them shut, raising the shield the block John advancing on you. “SHIT!” you screamed, bracing for impact.

The impact however, never came as Bucky jumped into action at the sound of your voice, raining blows down on John. “Don’t! You! Fuckin’! Touch! Her!” Each yelled word was a new hit, as Bucky fought John away from you.

“It’s mine,” John panted like a child who was being forced to share his favorite toy against his will.

“It’s over, John,” Sam told him.

“It’s mine!” John snarled, taking a swing at Bucky.

Bucky blocked it, grabbing the back of John’s neck with his vibranium hand, and punching him in the face with his other hand. “Y/N, shield!” Sam ordered.

Not needing to be told twice, you tossed Sam the shield as Bucky picked up John, and slammed him into the shield, the force of the impact sending all three men crashing to the floor in a chorus of groaned grunts of pain, the shield lying uselessly on the ground once more.

Bucky was the first to recover, grabbing the shield, and rising to his feet. Wordlessly, he walked over to Sam, dropping it next to him. The look on Bucky’s face said more than his mouth ever could, the anger that he had helped Sam get a shield he’d given up so easily needing no reason to be physically voiced. “C’mon, doll,” he said simply, turning and walking out of the building, leaving John and Sam where they lay.

“We’re not gonna leave Sam here, are we?” you asked in a whisper, jogging to keep up with your husband.

“Right now? Yes.”

“Bucky… It’s been a long day. And I know you still have your issues about Sam and the shield, and what it all means to you. But it’s Sam. He’s our friend, and partner whether you want him to be, or not.”

“I know,” Bucky answered you through gritted teeth. “That’s why I’m only leaving him for right now. Now, let’s talk about you, and what you did.”

You sighed. “What? Are you gonna yell at me about how I should have kept my distance? How you and Sam told me not to engage with John, and how I didn’t even want to go in there in the first place, so I’m completely batshit for doing what I did? That I could have gotten hurt, or worse? I know all that, Bucky. So please, spare me the lecture.”

“That was half of it, yes…” he admitted. “But what you did was also incredibly smart, and got Sam the shield.”

You shrugged. “I just got mad, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but it got Sam the shield. And it potentially saved us too. John was… That’s not a fight I’m eager to have again, that’s for damn sure. Between that fight and the one earlier… Knowing that you’re okay, and Sam probably physically feels worse than I do right now is really the only thing helping me feel somewhat okay right now.”

“Well, let’s get back to the apartment, and I’ll patch you up like old times.”

Bucky smiled fondly at long buried memories. “Mmm. Nurse Y/N. I always liked her.”

~~~

“The GRC is conducting raids to try and find Karli,” Sam reported over breakfast the next morning. “But so far, they only found her followers. They’ve searched a camp nearby, and just like the last camp they searched, nothing. She’s gone. We’ll never find her.”

“Hey, you got your sleeve back,” Torres’ voice chirped as he walked into the living room, and you wondered briefly where he’d come from, but you figured he probably arrived when Sam did, and given him the full run down of the GRC’s movements, much like Sam was giving you and Bucky now. Torres pointed at Bucky’s left jacket sleeve, once again reattached to the jacket he was wearing. “No? Yeah… okay then…” Torres said to no one in particular as Bucky stood there in silence, with his trademark stoic stare.

Still silent, and clearly still angry with Sam, Bucky turned on his heel to exit the room. “Are you off to take care of Zemo?” Sam wondered.

“Alright, good to know you survived,” Torres chipped again in a goodbye of sorts as Bucky stalked off down the hallway.

“He’ll come around,” you said as a half-assed apology for Bucky. “He’s… ya know. So, what else do we need to know about the Karli situation? Or the John one?”

Sam shrugged, looking over at Torres. “What’s our next steps?”

“Captain America killing a foreign national in public? It’s kinda like a big deal. Like international incident big. Folks higher up on the payroll are all over it now. So, unfortunately…”

“They’re taking jurisdiction,” Sam guessed.

“Yeah,” Torres nodded, his attention falling to a duffle bag at Sam’s feet that contained the snapped wings of his suit. “What happened to these?”

“So is there anything we can do?” you asked as Torres started examining the duffle bag.

“Not really. As I was telling Sam, they’ve cordoned off the whole camp, and Karli’s a ghost. After what went down, she’s laying extra low. Like under underground.”

“That’s why it makes sense for us to get involved,” Sam said. “The longer we let her regroup, the harder it’s gonna be to find her.”

“She’s got people helping her from all over the world, on all platforms,” Torres pointed out. “She’s really, really good at this thing.” He ran his hands carefully over the splintered wings. “How’d these break?”

“John,” you answered while Sam sighed, taking in all the information Torres was providing.

“Anyways,” Torres went on, “all we can do now is sit tight, and just chill. Sometimes there’s nothing to do, until there’s something to do.”

“That’s bizarrely wise,” Sam said with a small laugh.

“It means we can train,” you interjected. “Be prepared for whatever comes next.”

“The lady has a point,” Torres agreed with you, his eyes flickering longingly to the shield that lay on the table, remnants of the blood John had splattered on his now gone.

“Yeah, alright,” Sam nodded with a smile, looking at you. “Find your husband, and let’s get to work.”

Thankfully, all you had to do was turn your head, finding Bucky stalking back down the hallway with both yours and his suitcases in hand. “B- Oh, hey. We going somewhere?”

“Home. Well. Sam is. You and I are making a pit stop first.”

“So you finally found Zemo?” was Sam’s guess.

“I have an idea of where he might be, yeah.”

“You know, sometimes you still scare me Buck. The staring. The eerily calm voice. It’s creepy, man.”

“You wanna get to work, or not, Sam?”

~~~

The pit stop ended up being Sokovia, Bucky giving you a full rundown as to why he figured Zemo would be there on the flight over. He also told you of the plan he had. And sure enough, as the two of you walked up to the memorial site, Zemo was standing in front of it, his back facing you.

“I thought you’d be here sooner,” Zemo said as you and Bucky got within earshot. “Don’t worry. I’ve decided I’m not going to kill you.”

“Imagine my relief,” Bucky deadpanned, finger clicking the safety of the gun he had ready at his side.

Zemo turned towards you both, unthreatened by Bucky’s action as his attention focused on you. “The girl has been radicalized beyond salvation. I warned you and Sam, but you wouldn’t listen. Just as stubborn as Steve was, the two of you.” His gaze shifted to Bucky. “But you. They literally programmed you to kill. James, do what needs to be done. Karli has people everywhere. And there’s only one way to make sure she cannot continue her mission.”

“I appreciate the advice,” Bucky answered, his face conveying no evidence of whether or not that statement was actually true. “But we’re gonna do it our own way.”

Zemo chuckled at what he believed to be the naivety of Bucky’s words. “Yeah. I was afraid you’d say that.”

The gun in Bucky’s hand clicked again as he loaded what you knew to be nothing, but Zemo rightfully assumed to be a bullet into the chamber, raising his hand, the barrel of the gun mere inches from Zemo’s forehead. Zemo went pale, but kept his composure calm, even nodding at Bucky like he was giving the man permission to pull the trigger.

You watched as Zemo sucked in his breath while Bucky pressed ever so lightly on the trigger. But all that came out of the gun was an empty clicking sound. Eyes still locked on Zemo, Bucky opened his other hand, the bullets clattering to the ground.

Silently, the Dora Milaje walked up, surrounding Zemo. “Ladies,” he greeted, before addressing Bucky one last time. “I took the liberty of crossing my name off in your book. I hold no grudges for what you thought you had to do. Goodbye James. It was nice getting to know you, Mrs. Barnes.”

Two of the Dora Milaje escorted Zemo away, while the third talked briefly with Bucky about their own plans for Zemo. “It would be prudent to make yourself scarce in Wakanda for the time being, White Wolf,” she added as a small warning.

“Fair enough,” he nodded. Then, “Hey. I may have another favor to ask of you.”

~~~

After your visit with Zemo, you and Bucky headed home.

“Buck said you got a few good ones in on that new Cap guy. Good for you,” Steve smiled proudly.

“I did okay, I guess. Got out better than Bucky and Sam, that’s for sure,” you shrugged in modesty. “Have you heard from Sam?”

“Yeah, he got back a few days ago. But just as soon as he stopped by, he was gone again. Something about seeing the old man in Baltimore?”

“Bradley,” you and Bucky said in unison. “He’s uh… like you and me,” Bucky added as an extra explanation when Steve cocked his head in confusion. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, if that was a few days ago, where’s Sam now?” you asked.

Steve shrugged. “My guess? He went home to see his sister in Louisiana. You guys still not talking after what happened?”

You looked at Bucky, and shook your head. “No. Bucky won’t say it, but he’s still never forgiven Sam for giving up the shield in the first place. And now he’s even more mad he had to help Sam get it back, because-”

“None of this would have happened if he hadn’t given it up in the first place,” you and Steve gave your best Bucky impression together.

“1.) I don’t sound like that. And 2.) I’m right. None of this would have happened if Sam had kept the shield. Not the shit with Walker anyway.”

“But Sam’s still family. And we’re still Avengers. And we still have a job to finish with Karli,” you pointed out.

“What? So you want to go to Louisiana and find Sam?” Bucky asked you.

“That would be a start.”

“Doll, we just got home. Don’t you wanna be home for a bit?”

“Not when there’s still work to be done. And you and Sam gotta put this whole mess behind you once and for all, because all Riga proved was that it takes all three of us working together to take down John.”

“And that barely worked,” he reminded you.

“Which is also why we all need to train together. Not you training me here while Sam does God knows what in Louisiana. We need to be an actual team here, Bucky.”

Bucky sighed. “Alright. I’ll book us a flight first thing tomorrow, okay?”

“Why not book it right now?”

Bucky looked at Steve, clearing his throat before leaning in close to your ear. “Because of reasons I can’t say in front of your brother, doll.”

Your eyes went wide and your cheeks turned bright red at Bucky’s insinuation while Steve clapped his hands loudly together. “Okay. I think we’re done here.”

~~~

You’re sure we’re in the right place?” you asked Bucky as you approached a dock crowded with people and supplies.

Bucky only nodded as he climbed in the back of a truck lifting a huge pallet with ease at the same time you heard Sam’s voice wonder “How do we get it off the truck?”

“You’re welcome,” Bucky said as he set the pallet aside, turning to see Sam’s shocked expression.

“Surprise,” you grinned, waggling your fingers in a wave at Sam.

Sam stepped around the truck to get closer to you and Bucky, the shock on his face now a questioning look.

Bucky set a suitcase down on the bed of the truck. “Just dropping this off. Sign for it, and we’ll go.”

“Bucky,” you hissed under your breath. This was not part of your plan at all.

“I called in a favor from the Wakandans,” Bucky explained to Sam.

Before Sam could say anything in response, or you could berate Bucky under your breath again, a pipe started hissing loudly, and a woman was rushing over. “Sam!”

Sam wasted no time in rushing over to assess what the damage to the pipe was and how to go about fixing it, grabbing a nearby wrench as the woman looked at you and Bucky.

“Hi,” you smiled at her.

“Hi,” she smiled back.

Bucky sighed, watching what Sam was doing before going over. “Hold on, hold on. You gotta go up.” He took the wrench from Sam, pushing him out of the way, quickly tightening to the loose bolt on the pipe until it stopped hissing.

“Why didn’t you use the metal arm?” Sam asked as Bucky set the wrench aside.

Bucky thought about it for a second, looking at the vibranium appendage. “Well, I don’t always think of it immediately. I’m right-handed. So, this is the boat, huh?”

“This is it,” Sam nodded.

“It’s nice,” Bucky complimented. “You want any help?”

Sam looked at Bucky, sighing deeply. “Yeah…”

You and the woman looked over at Bucky and Sam, rolling your eyes. “Men…” you muttered. Then, “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“Sarah,” she smiled back. “Friends of Sam’s, I take it?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Mmm,” she nodded, her eyes roaming over Bucky. “And who are you?”

“I’m Bucky,” he grinned charmingly at her.

Sam punched him in the right arm as hard as he could.

“Ow! What the hell, Sam?!” Bucky growled, rubbing at his arm.

“What is it with you and people’s sisters, man? How did Steve not beat your ass?”

Sarah’s eyes went wide as she looked at you, yours and Bucky’s name clicking in familiarity. “Oh!” she said, a hand covering her mouth as she looked at you, “I’m so sorry!”

You howled with laughter as Sam hit Bucky in the arm some more. “Seriously?! How did Steve not obliterate your ass?”

“He was like a foot shorter and weighed maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet,” Bucky shrugged. “Now will you stop hitting me? Doll!” He turned to you with puppy dog eyes to help him. “Weren’t you the one saying I needed to learn to be friendlier to people?”

“Friendlier, not flirtier,” you clarified, tears rolling down your cheeks from how hard you were still laughing. “Now help Sam with the damn boat, Sergeant Charmer.”

It was an interesting morning watching Bucky and Sam work on the boat, while you helped Sarah in the house making meals. “It’s probably a good thing Bucky’s from another time,” she commented as she caught you staring dreamily out the window for the millionth time.

“How do you mean?”

“A man that looks like that, and knows it? In today’s society? Not usually a good mix.”

“Oh, those types have always existed,” you said with a small chuckle. “Bucky and Steve used to fight them quite a bit.”

“And you? Having to fight off the hoards of women that no doubt threw themselves at a man like that?”

You laughed again. “Very rare occurrences. Bucky is, uh… attentive that way, I guess.”

“Well, you’re lucky to have a husband like Bucky. Men like that are hard to come by, believe me.”

“Oh, I know. Funny thing is, if you ask Bucky, he’d say he’s the lucky one.”

“Well, lunch is about done if you wanna bring these plates out to them for me.”

You thanked her, loading the plates up in your arms before walking outside and over to where Bucky and Sam were. “Lunch time!” you called out.

Both of their heads swiveled in your direction, Bucky clutching at his heart dramatically. “Oh, a woman after my own heart.”

“Sarah made lunch, I just helped,” you told him, handing him a plate.

Sam snickered, taking his own plate from you, “Thanks for helping her,” he told you, then in a louder voice that was almost a shout, “Thank you, Sarah!”

“You think Karli’s gonna throw in the towel?” Bucky asked, as you all took a spot and dug into your lunch.

Sam shook his head as he swallowed his bite of food. “I think she’s gonna double down.”

“Any idea on how to stop her?”

“I got Torres working on something.”

“Well, Zemo says there’s only one way.”

You all said nothing for a minute, eating your lunch and thinking quietly to yourselves before Bucky broke the silence. “Well. Y/N and I gotta catch our flight tomorrow. Gonna get a hotel room for the night. Crash, ya know?”

“So you’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”

“Well, there’s two of us. We don’t wanna impose, or anything. I really just came to give you that,” Bucky nodded at the suitcase the Wakandans have given him for Sam.

Sam snorted. “Like Y/N didn’t all but march your ass on the plane to get here. So just stay here. The people in this town are the most welcoming people in the world. They don’t care if you wear small T-shirts, or if you have six toes, or if your mom’s your aunt-” Sam rambled.

“Okay,” Bucky cut him off with a chuckle. “I get it. I mean, you know, the people are nice.”

You and Sam laughed too, before Sam pointed at Bucky, “But don’t flirt with my sister.”

“Why would I do that?”

Sam looked at you, “He doesn’t get it, does he?”

You shook your head, “He never really did.”

“What don’t I get?”

“It’s how you interact with women in general, Bucky. They find you charming,” you explained. “Niceness is mistaken as interest.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous.”

“Just keep the charm around my sister in check, or I’ll help Y/N cut you up, and feed you to the fish.”

Bucky rolled his eyes.

~~~

That night, instead of a hotel, you and Bucky slept in the spare bedroom of Sarah’s house, while Sam offered to take the couch.

Both of you awoke to the sounds of Sarah’s sons making a ruckus down the hall, and Sam’s tired call out of “Hey!”

You rolled on your side, to find Bucky already looking at you with a smile on his face. “What’s got you so happy this morning?” you asked, kissing his nose.

His shoulders shrugged. “Something about this is nice. Waking up next to you in a house. Sound of kids.”

You gasped softly in a teasing manner. “James Barnes, are you saying you want a quiet domestic life?”

He chuckled, kissing your forehead. “You knew that was what I wanted. What our lives were supposed to be like when I got home. You wanted the same thing too, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did. I still do. I just didn’t know you still did, given how much everything’s changed.”

“For a while I didn’t. My focus was… elsewhere. But it’s been something that’s been on my mind again since you’ve been back. But I wanted to give us both time to adjust. Catch up for lost time, just me and you. And then… ya know. But yeah. This,” he twirled a finger about the room, and the sounds of the house coming alive, “is still something I want.”

“Well, it’s still something I want, too.”

His kiss was heavy with need as his lips crashed into yours. “God, I love you.”

~~~

The shield bit deeply into the tree Sam hurled it at. “Son of a b-” he muttered, dashing over to wedge it free.

“You need something it can bounce back off of,” Bucky told him.

“You need something it can bounce back off of,” Sam repeated in a mocking tone.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “C’mon, I got an idea.”

The idea ended up being taking rubber mats to bound around the trees, Sam giving it a test once they were done. The shield bounced off the mat, flying straight back to Sam who caught it with ease. “Yeah, alright,” he conceded. “That’s way better.”

“How’s the shield part feel?” you asked.

“That part feels weird.” He launched it again, the shield ricocheting off one mat into another before Bucky caught it. “The legacy of that shield,” Sam continued, “is complicated to say the least.”

“When Steve told us what he was planning, I don’t think any of us really understood what it felt like for a Black man to be handed the shield. How could we?” Bucky spoke up.

You and Sam shared a look, Sam jerking a thumb at you, “Well, I understood. And so did she. But glad you’re finally catching up.”

Bucky sighed, “Fine. I didn’t understand. Point is, I owe you an apology. I’m sorry.” He lifted the arm the shield was on towards Sam for Sam to take.

“Thank you,” Sam said sincerely, taking the shield.

“Whatever happened with Walker, it wasn’t your fault,” Bucky went on to say. “I get it. It’s just… that shield… For a while it was the closest thing I had to a family. Or it was a huge part in me getting my family back anyway. Because if Steve never took it up in the first place… Well, when you retired it, it felt like giving up. Made me question everything. Like first Steve retired. Then you retired the shield. Everything that saved me was done. Like I was nothing but a completed mission.”

You and Sam stayed quiet, letting Bucky spill out the confession he now found the words to express. But after a long enough pause on Bucky’s end, you reached out to squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I know both Steve, and the shield mean a lot to you. But it doesn’t define you, Bucky,” you told him softly. “You are not who you are because of Steve. He might have helped, but he is not the reason. You are. You’re the one who put in the work.”

“She’s right,” Sam agreed with you. “You gotta stop looking at other people to tell you who you are. Let me ask you, you still having those nightmares?”

“All the time,” Bucky nodded. “It means I remember. It means a part of me is still there. Which means a part of the Winter Soldier’s still in me.”

“You up for a little tough love? You wanna climb out of that hell you’re in, keep doing the work.”

“I’ve been making my amends.”

Sam scoffed. “No. You weren’t amending, you were avenging. And teaching Y/N in the process. You were stopping all the wrongdoers you enabled as the Winter Soldier because you thought it would bring you closure. But if it actually was, then your nightmares wouldn’t be happening. At least not with the frequency they still do.”

Bucky looked at you, both of you thinking about Yori back home. “You’re not allowed to talk to Sam anymore if you’re gonna blab everything I tell you to him.”

You smiled, knowing he was only teasing. “We’re a team, Bucky. Looking out for each other is what we do.”

Bucky shook his head. “Definitely not a team.”

“Nope,” Sam agreed with Bucky.

“We’re not that good,” Bucky laughed.

“Definitely not,” Sam agreed again.

“We’re professionals.”

“Definitely.”

“And uh… partners?”

“Coworkers.”

“But, we’re also a couple guys with a mutual friend.”

“But the friend’s now gone,” Sam pointed out.

“So we’re a couple of guys.”

“I can live with that.”

“Perfect.”

You snorted at their boyish back and forth antics. “The word you’re looking for is ‘family’ actually,” you interjected.

“Just uh… call us when you have a lead on Karli, and we’ll be there,” Bucky told Sam.

“Yep. And uh, thanks for the help. Meant a lot.”

“Course,” Bucky clapped Sam on the shoulder, and you and Sam gave each other a quick hug. “C’mon, doll. We got a flight to catch.”

~~~

Back home with no idea for how long, you and Bucky set to work on a more rigorous training for you.

Mornings quickly became filled with drilling you in various hand-to-hand combat techniques in which Bucky barely broke a sweat, and you ended up drenched in enough of your own for the both of you.

While you relished in your morning routine with Bucky, it was the afternoons you found particularly interesting after you came out of the bedroom to find Bucky sitting in front of his laptop. “Whatcha looking at?” you asked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you peered at the house listings on the computer screen.

“Domestic dreaming,” he said, not taking his eyes off the screen as he patted the sofa cushion next to him for you to join him.

“Oh, so when you said you still wanted this, you meant you wanted it now,” you teased as you moved around him to take the offered seat.

He shrugged. “Figured it couldn’t hurt. Thanks to Stark, everyone that’s still around is pretty well off. And I forget when exactly, but at some point Steve and I were able to get our GI funds.”

“That’s nice,” you noted, now understanding why finances had never seemed to be an issue despite neither of you actually working.

“Yeah. And I figured raising a family in a shoebox apartment isn’t part of that domestic dream. So…”

“So here we are,” you supplied.

“So here we are,” he repeated with a nod. “Oh, this one looks nice,” he said, clicking on one of the options.

“It is,” you agreed, watching as Bucky clicked through the pictures of the 3 bedroom home. “Big enough to raise a family. Small enough to not be obnoxious.”

“Mhm,” Bucky murmured, the mouse hovering over the link to schedule a viewing. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you grinned.

After that, it wasn’t uncommon for yours and Bucky’s afternoons to be filled with meeting with realtors and attending open houses, weighing all your options in the evenings. And with the type of dedication Bucky had towards house hunting, it wasn’t long at all until you found a place you both fell in love with.

“C’mon, doll,” he roused you one morning like he always did. “Gotta go train.”

Normally you bounded out of bed, excited for a new day of training exercises, but today you swatted a hand at him, batting him away. “No,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket up over your head, and turning away from him, the action making your stomach roll. You let out a long, low groan.

“You feeling alright?” he asked, his voice taking on a note of concern. Hands pulled the blanket from your face, before he was feeling your forehead, checking for any unusual warmth. “You don’t feel like you have a fever,” he noted with a frown.

“Gonna be sick,” you announced, springing from bed and racing for the bathroom.

Bucky followed worriedly, one hand pulling your hair out of your face, the other rubbing soothingly at your back as you dry-heaved into the toilet. “Okay, no training today. We do have the meeting with the realtor later to sign the last of the papers and get the keys. But I can ask Steve to come keep you company while I go do that if you’re not up for it.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head and rising shakily to your feet. “You don’t have to bother Steve. It’s just a stomach bug, I’ll be fine.”

“Well, let me at least help you back to bed, and make you some breakfast, okay?”

“Fine,” you conceded, letting him support your weight as he led you back to bed. “But I’m not hungry,” you told him as you pulled the blanket close around you in bed.

“Not hungry, or worried you’ll be sick if you eat?” he questioned the validity of your statement.

You stuck your tongue out at him.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “At least try to eat some toast for me? Maybe having something in your stomach will help.”

“If you get it to me before I fall back asleep, I’ll try,” was your compromise.

Quickly, Bucky raced into the kitchen, as you closed your eyes wondering why you suddenly felt so miserable. When you’d been sick in the past, there’d always been signs leading up to it. But this sickness had caught you completely off guard.

“Gotta sit up for me, doll,” Bucky’s voice had you opening your eyes again, spotting him standing next to you with a plate in his hand.

You groaned, sitting up against the headboard and taking a begrudging bite of the toast.

He chuckled again. “I forgot how stubborn you get when you’re sick. Way more than you normally are.”

“Not sure how not wanting to vomit toast, and wanting to sleep makes me stubborn, but okay,” you said, taking another slow bite.

“Aren’t there usually signs before you get sick? I thought there used to be signs.”

“There are signs. Or there’s supposed to be. I dunno what the heck is happening.”

His brows pulled together in curious confusion. “You’re not…” his eyes shifted to look at your stomach pointedly. “Are you?”

Your eyes went wide at the suggestion, before you shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe?”

“Shit…”

“Would it be bad if I was?”

“No!” he rushed. “God no. Just…”

“We talked about all of this back in the forties, it became irrelevant for decades, and now that we started talking about the possibility of it all again, it’s all happening at once.”

“And we still have the Karli situation, yeah. But it’s fine. It’s more than fine. Do you want me to run down to the pharmacy?”

“Please?”

Ten minutes later, Bucky held you tight as you waited on the test lying on the bathroom counter with wide and tearful eyes. “Holy shit…” you both breathed in unison, as a small plus sign appeared in the result window. “Holy shit!”

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iamtheblondestblonde · 5 years ago

Text

Temptation

AN: I... I don’t even know what to say except for I’m so sorry? We had some tech issues at work today and I had this idea while I waited and it didn’t fit with Slides so here’s some plot with porn at the end with Mat? I wrote this in first person narrative but there’s no name or description in it. Also this is my first time writing anything like this and I didn’t spend much time proof-reading so please don’t judge too harshly

AN 2: I wrote a sequel called No Control and you can find it here so please check it out!!

Word count: 7.4k (things escalated what can I say..)

Warnings: cursing and smut, like really explicit content

He was only wearing a towel. Again. Seeing him walking around in nothing but shorts was already bad enough but this was on a whole other level.

When Mat had first invited me to come with him to his lake house by Vancouver to wait this mess out I had been thrilled. Fancy lake house overlooking the water with my best friend definitely sounded better than stuffy Brooklyn apartment in a city crammed with thousands of people infected.

Thankfully my online classes made the journey across the country possible and I only had to fly back for a short while to take my final exams. This wasn’t really how I envisioned my summer after graduating college but it could be worse I guess.

As I took a look at him all glistening wet from his shower on his way over to me by the kitchen island, I felt like I was trapped in an episode of temptation island or something like that.

Neither of us had expected this lockdown to last this long and almost two months of being holed up together was starting to take its toll. I’d known for a fact that I’d go batshit crazy if I were to stay with my own family or my crazy roommate though so his offer had truly been godsend. With the fancy club I usually waitressed at closed there was no way I’d be able to pay for my rent either, so I’d given my landlord my notice, put everything that I wouldn’t take with me in storage and followed Mat across the country.

His family was supposed to be up here with us and that way I’d have his sister as a distraction, but they’d decided to stay in the city, meaning it was only Mat and I. And my sexual frustration.

It didn’t help that my quarantine buddy looked like a fucking Greek god either. Any nun would probably go for him as well, frustrated or not. And I was definitely not a nun.

“Do you want to go paddle boarding after breakfast? The water shouldn’t be too cold today with the sun out.”

I looked out through the large floor to ceiling windows at Mat’s question, I’d been so distracted by him running around practically naked that I hadn’t even noticed that for the first time in three days there were almost no clouds visible. With May well underway British Columbia was apparently finally getting ready for summer.

“Yeah let’s do it. I still have to respond to a couple of emails before we leave tho.”

He took a look over my shoulder at my laptop, water droplets from his hair falling down my neck making me squirm.

“You’re getting me all wet”, I huffed before giving him a shove. Not thinking about the way his muscular shoulders felt underneath my fingers at all. Definitely not thinking about that. Nope.

“You’re the first girl I’ve ever heard complain about that you know?” He winked at me before throwing his head back in laughter as I flipped him off. The flirty banter that had been going on between us ever since we met almost two years ago wasn’t really helping my case either.

I was convinced the only reason why we hadn’t hooked up yet was terrible timing. We’d met at a time when both of us were seeing others and by the time we both were single again the previous months of platonic friendship had set our relationship in stone, never allowing for anything more than playful flirting and teasing. I’d thought about it for a couple of times, because honestly who wouldn’t with the way he looked?

Mat filled a cup with coffee and grabbed some of the breakfast I’d prepared before pulling out the chair next to me, looking at me expectantly. I was still munching on the remainder of my overnight oats so it took me a couple of seconds to swallow before I could ask what the hell he was waiting for.

“For you to finish whatever it is that you need to do. I have nothing else to do”

“I can’t concentrate with you hovering over me like this. Go work out or something.”

Mat had a really nice gym set up in one of the rooms and let me tell you if I had to pick one place to plank for the rest of the life, it would definitely be in there so I could at least watch the calming water while I died such a slow painful death.

“I already worked out, that’s why I just got out of the shower.”

“Well then put some fucking clothes on, you’re not some cave man who can get away with only wearing a loincloth”, I exclaimed, slowly getting flustered with him in such close proximity while knowing that one tuck could expose him completely. He cackled but got up nevertheless, making his way back towards his bedroom.

“Me being naked is yet another thing no one has ever complained about either, you wound me.”

“I’m sure Tito would disagree!”, I yelled, desperate to have the last word so I could at least keep some semblance of control in this situation. I could hear him laugh all the way from the other end of the house and quickly shook my head so I could finally get some things sorted out before he got back.

With the way the sun was shining right now I could probably get away with wearing only a t shirt over my swimsuit, which was a lot better than the full-on wetsuit we’d donned whenever we’d spent our time doing any water activities over the past few weeks. Although Mat in a wetsuit was truly a sight to see, with the way the fabric clung to him so tight that you could see every ridge of his muscles underneath.

I hustled through my emails, ready to relax for the day. Perhaps I could even start on my summer tan already, being out on the water always sped things up. Thankfully I’d bothered to bring lots of clothes and a bit of online shopping had closed any gaps that I had in my wardrobe, this bikini being one of the new acquirements as well. It was super cute and my butt looked really good in it and it would look even better once I finally got my tan going.

Mat was already lounging on the couch in the living room, scrolling through his phone and looking annoyingly perfect as ever. I knew for a fact that he hadn’t done anything with his hair and it looked so soft that I just wanted to push my hands through it. And pull it until he groaned.

“That one’s new”, he immediately said once he lifted his gaze to look at me, pulling me out of my fantasies. I hadn’t put my shirt on yet so he was getting the full view of me in the bikini, which might have been on purpose. I knew that quarantine must be getting to him as well and he wasn’t the only one that could be a tease.

I nodded, biting my lip before twirling around so he could get all angles. “You like?”

This bikini was a little bit skimpier than the ones he’d seen me in before and I could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn’t as relaxed at the sight as he pretended to be. Finally.

We grabbed our paddles and boards and slowly made our way out on the water. It still took me a couple of minutes to find my balance, no matter how many times I’d done this before but eventually I managed, Mat now slightly ahead of me. If I had my phone with me I would definitely take pictures of him right now, they’d be outdoor magazine worthy.

“Come on slow poke, what’s keeping you?”, he yelled over his shoulder and I was tempted to splash him but I already knew that that would end up in a fight I couldn’t possibly win so I only stuck my tongue out before working to catch up.

At first we kept close to the shore but eventually we slowly made our way out farther onto the lake, laying down on our boards to enjoy the gentle up and down of the water. The sun was hotter than anticipated so both Mat and I ended up taking off our shirts and using them as pillows instead. I closed my eyes to keep me from staring at him, instead relishing in the way the sun warmed my face.

“This is what life should always be like”, Mat sighed contently, breaking the comfortable silence.

“You’d miss hockey eventually. You belong on the ice.”

“Probably. But right now I’m not missing a thing ‘cause I got everything I need right here.”

I didn’t want to look at him out of fear of what I might see on his face, only giving him an affirmative hum instead.

“You’re seriously the best”, Mat sighed after emptying his drink yet again. I had decided that tonight would be taco night and made some margaritas to accompany them, both of us a couple of glasses in by now. It honestly could be a Tuesday but who even knows anymore. I was convinced that at least part of the reason why Mat had asked me to come with him was because he liked my food so much, especially when I cooked Mexican.

The sun was setting over the lake and we were sitting outside on the porch so we could watch the sun set above the water, music playing quietly in the background. He reached for the pitcher and I grabbed the golf club leaning against the sofa we were currently sharing, even though there was lots of space to lounge elsewhere.

Now I didn’t really like golfing, in fact I thought it was among the most boring sports to watch and not much better to play, but I did like to swing at the ball as hard as I could. I’d found some golf balls that would dissolve into food for the fish so for the last couple of hours Mat and I had taken turns in trying to get the ball as far as possible, both of us with a subpar form that only got worse after every margarita.

“No you need to rotate your hips along with the swing”, Mat commented and I threw him a look over my shoulder.

“You’re not much better you know.”

“Yeah but I’m also stronger than you so I can hit harder.”

“I’m not sure if that’s how it works Matty.”

For my next swing I made sure to exaggeratedly turn my hips with the movement, causing me to lose balance of course. In a split second Mat was there, his big hands resting on either side of my hips so I wouldn’t fall.

“Good reflexes”, I giggled, letting my head drop back onto his shoulder so I could look up at him, our eyes locking in an intense stare. He was standing so close to me that I could feel his breath fan across my neck it was very tempting to take the little step that was needed for me to be pressed against him completely. I knew I shouldn’t be thinking about him like this, but the alcohol wasn’t exactly helping.

I could see him swallow hard, closing his eyes for a second before reluctantly letting go of me. “It’s what they pay me millions for you know.”

“Cocky little shit.” And just like that we fell back into our old rhythm again. I pushed any and all dirty thoughts out of my mind and instead focused back on my golf swing.

With every sip I felt myself relax more, the amount of alcohol in the second pitcher definitely stronger than in the first. I knew that Mat felt the effect of the alcohol as well by now, the way his gaze would turn unfocused from time to time giving him away.

I gave him a curious glance when he got up, knowing for a fact that him with a golf club would be a dangerous combination if he tried anything right now. To my surprise he walked over to the box where all the blankets were stashed, pulling out the fluffy grey one that I liked most before spreading it across both of our legs. He surprised me even further when he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close to his side so I could rest my head on his chest. While behavior like this wasn’t completely unusual for the two of us, it had been a while since we last cuddled. It was as if Mat had been careful to not get too close up until this point, his resolve now gone.

“You know, I really like knowing things and learning how stuff works, but sometimes I just wanna be a kid again who doesn’t have a clue. I remember how I used to think that every star was a little fairy like the ones in Tinkerbell or something, I don’t know. The world used to be so full of wonders and now it’s all science this psychology that, you get me?” I listened to him ramble, the alcohol making him stumble on his words a couple of times as he tried to figure out how to properly articulate himself. I’d listened to his drunk thoughts for years now, still amazed at his ability to get all philosophical out of apparently nowhere.

“Kinda yea, but I also think there’s still lots of wonders left, some of them having to do with science. Why do comatose patients wake up? What must it feel like as a surgeon to be able to give someone a new heart, a new life? How can we know so much and yet still be wrong so many times? So the way I see it there’s still wonders, you just got to know where to look”, I finished my rant, looking up only to see Mat intently staring down at me. This wasn’t our first drunk real talk, but the way I was wrapped in his arms somehow made it feel more personal.

“By the way, I think I got lucky because I wasn’t even looking and yet I still somehow ran into you”, I continued, needing him to understand his importance to me all of the sudden. He’d truly been my rock over the past few months, keeping me from going insane as I approached the final stretch of my senior year. He’d reminded me to take care of myself and practically forced me to whenever I didn’t.

I couldn’t even count the amount of times I’d crashed at his place because my roommate was having some kind of crazy rager in our apartment, effectively making it impossible to study. He’d even offered up his spare bedroom once he moved into his new apartment but I declined because I wouldn’t be able to afford the rent at this place and I wasn’t about to leech off of him when I had other options.

“You are my wonder too, you know. I couldn’t have wished for a more supportive friend.” I smiled up at him, drunk happiness mixed with genuine love for the guy that had slowly turned into the most important person in my life. We’d come quite far.

It didn’t take long until the both of us were yawning so frequently that it was impossible to keep up a conversation, quickly gathering everything so we could go back inside. I hadn’t even realized how cold it had gotten until Mat’s arm dropped from my shoulder and my legs were exposed again from underneath the blanket.

“You wanna have a sleepover?”, Mat asked grinning at me cheekily while walking across the living room. Never one to say no to cuddling with Mat, even before all this quarantine horniness, I nodded before dashing off to my room to get ready.

Mat was already snuggled under the covers and he lifted up one side as soon as he saw me getting closer. He liked to be the big spoon and because that was one of the best feelings in the world I basically let him do whatever until he deemed our sleeping position comfortable. He’d definitely pulled me a little tighter than he usually did, our bodies now practically touching from head to toe.

He’d tangled up one of his legs with mine and my back was flush to his chest, his face nuzzled into the back of my neck. He had wrapped one arm around my waist so even if I wanted to leave or move, I wouldn’t be able to. It was like a big perfect Mat cocoon.

As I laid there listening to his breathing slowing down I thought back to what Mat had said on the paddle board a couple of days ago, about how he had everything he needed right here with him. I knew that that wasn’t exactly true because he missed his family and even if he denied it I knew he missed hockey as well, but he’d also admitted to needing me with him and I would be lying if I said that I didn’t feel the same.

A few rays of sunshine had lit up Mat’s bedroom the next morning, but that wasn’t what had woken me up. Mat was calling for me from the ensuite bathroom and I could faintly make out the sound of water running.

“I need you to bring me your shampoo, I’m all out”, he yelled and I groaned before slowly rolling out of bed. In daylight I could make out the mess his room had become, clothes littering the floor and every other surface and I almost stumbled over a set of weights on my way out of the door.

I grabbed my shampoo out of my shower and even reached for the conditioner for good measure. His hair had gotten so long by now that it would surely appreciate the extra attention.

Making my way into the bathroom I was faced with a problem that I hadn’t thought of up until this point. The lake house was pretty new, meaning the interior design was cozy yet still modern. Meaning all bathrooms were equipped with big glass showers. Meaning that there was currently no shower curtain preventing me from seeing Mat fully naked in the shower.

I could close my eyes but I would 100% trip over his clothes that he’d strewn all across the bathroom floor so my only option was to try and keep my eyes up high. Keyword being ‘try’. At least he had his back turned to me but I was still mesmerized by the water running down his body and the way his back muscles rippled as he reached up to push his hair out of his face. And that ass..

I slowly approached the shower, praying that he wouldn’t turn around to face me but also kind of hoping he would. I opened the door a little bit so I could set the bottles down inside and thankfully he stayed put.

“Don’t put the conditioner on your roots or your hair will look greasy”, I said on my way out and even I could hear how breathless I sounded, the view having my thoughts run a mile a second.

As soon as I had the bathroom door closed I squeezed my eyes shut to try and regain my composure. The image of him in that shower was one I wouldn’t be able to get rid of for a long time. I couldn’t even take a cold shower to cool down because Mat had my stuff and he’d know something was up if I were to simply rinse myself off and I couldn’t exactly tell him that the sight of him naked had gotten me all hot and bothered.

So instead I decided to use all of my pent up energy to go on a run, hoping for the runner’s high to clear my thoughts. By the time I got back Mat was laying in the corner of the couch, an episode of The Office on the big flatscreen.

“We need to go to the store later”, I reminded him, knowing that I couldn’t walk in on him naked again without losing the little control I had left in my body. He nodded and then looked me up and down and for a second I was embarrassed. Even with only wearing running shorts and a sports bra I was still drenched in sweat, probably looking disgusting.

At least he’d put my stuff back so I could finally shower in peace, my thoughts still wandering back to earlier this morning. I wouldn’t have turned him down before all of this shit started but now that I only had my own hands and trusted toy to take care of myself, I was borderline desperate. Two months without sex was the longest dry spell I’d had in years and I couldn’t imagine Mat feeling any different. I knew from firsthand experience that he brought lots of girls home as well. Perhaps he needed something to happen as much as I did.

It was hard to believe that his shampoo had just been empty all of a sudden without him noticing first and then there was the fact that for the past few days he’d been parading around the house in only his boxers or towels.

Two can play this game, I thought to myself, pulling on a comfy shirt and some tight booty shorts, foregoing a bra which he was bound to notice because of how it stretched over my chest.

I pretended not to notice how Mat almost choked on the sip of water he’d just taken as I made my way into the living room, walking over to the kitchen to grab my own bottle. Even if I couldn’t see it to confirm, I was pretty sure that he was staring at my ass as soon as I turned away from him. For good measure I even made sure to lie down with my head in his lap, murmuring something about how he’d taken up the best spot so he really left me no other choice.

The first few minutes he didn’t move an inch, resembling a statue. I knew that he could feel my boobs pressed against his thigh and I made sure to shift a couple of times to make sure before placing one of my hands on his thigh. Eventually he relaxed and even went as far as to rest one of his hands on top of my hand, slowly moving his fingers through the tangles in my still wet hair. When he accidently pulled at a few strands I let out a content sigh while simultaneously digging my nails into his thigh out of habit. I pretended to not hear him groan lightly and instead gave him the most insincere apology of my life, thoughts now definitely elsewhere.

I was royally screwed. Or actually I wasn’t, and that was becoming a big problem.

I’d made it my personal mission to get a reaction out of him as much as I could. Mat was the same, I hadn’t seen him wearing a shirt in days. It was like this competition to see who could make the other one snap first. Currently I was making breakfast in nothing but a shirt and my panties. Granted, the shirt went to my mid-thighs because I’d stolen it from Mat a couple of months ago but still.

One of my upbeat playlists was playing over the speaker system and I was dancing around in front of the stove, careful to not let the our breakfast burn.

“What a sight to wake up to”, I heard Mat’s voice behind me and his hoarse morning voice did things to me I would never admit out loud. I gave him a cheeky grin over my shoulder and wiggled my butt for good measure as my favorite part of the song came on.

“Can you set the table? Breakfast is almost ready”, I asked and he nodded before moving to grab everything. We’d gotten our morning routine down to a t by now and I couldn’t help the warmth that spread in my chest at seeing him do something so domestic. Our friendship had certainly evolved since practically moving in here together. It would actually be weird to not have him around constantly once all of this was over.

The day continued like most of the days before, us lounging on the couch after working out together for a while. It was something we’d made a habit a while ago. His trainer knew that I was with him so he’d give Mat tandem exercises from time to time or he’d ask me to take videos so he could make sure that Mat’s form was okay. I certainly didn’t mind the view.

Mat was always hot of course but there was something to be said about the way he looked after a workout, all flushed and just downright delicious. It was definitely a great motivation to join him in the gym.

This time I had managed to snatch the corner seat and I was sprawled out on the couch, Mat’s head resting on my stomach. While I’d managed to put on some shorts he was of course still shirtless and I’d given in to temptation long ago, my fingers now slowly running across his back. He had one of his arms thrown across my stomach, hand resting on my hip and drawing slow circles on the little patch of skin that had been exposed when my shirt had ridden up. While cuddling wasn’t unusual between the two of us, this was certainly new territory, the show we’d been watching kind of forgotten by now.

“Use your nails”, Mat pleaded and his voice was so raw that I would’ve done anything he asked of me at this point. He let out a groan when I softly raked my nails across his back and I was glad that he couldn’t see my face right now. There was a spot on the left side of his back that would cause him to shudder slightly, goosebumps spreading quickly. I found myself watching him in awe, fascinated by the reaction I could get out of him by such a simple act.

I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what kind of damage I could do if I really worked for it.

It finally happened a couple of nights later after yet another day filled with sexual tension so thick that you could probably cut it with a knife.

Mat helped me clean up after dinner, music playing to help speed things up. I was in charge of taking care of the leftovers while he cleaned up everything else. Obviously I was done before him and since he refused to let me help him I hopped on top of the kitchen counter, making casual conversation while watching him put stuff in the dishwasher.

“This is my jam!”, he exclaimed, quickly wiping his hands clean before motioning for me to come dance with him. I shook my head while laughing, which only led to him grabbing me and lifting me off the counter so I would join him.

His moves were ridiculous, arms kind of just flapping around. I knew that he could dance if he wanted to, we’d been to our fair share of clubs together but right now he definitely wasn’t trying. He held his hand out for me and with a laugh I accepted, letting him spin me around as he wished. The third time while he was spinning me back towards him he pulled a little to hard though and whether it was on accident or not I ended up almost smacking into him, only stopping myself by placing my other hand on his chest.

Both of us were a little out of breath by now and any laughter died down as he wrapped both of his arms around me, pulling me even closer. I looked up at him, gripping onto his shoulder with the other hand. Mat looked down at me with an unreadable expression. We both stared at each other for a couple of seconds, trying to figure out what the other one was thinking at the moment. How had things gone from him twerking to Lizzo to this?

He gulped heavily before bringing one of his hands up to cup my face, ripping me out of my trance. His gaze was flickering between my lips and my eyes and he leaned in a little closer, yet still waiting for me to take the final step. Deciding to throw all caution to the wind I moved my hand to his neck, finally pulling him down to where I wanted him.

When our lips met it was as if everything was falling into place. The kiss started out slow, both of us still kind of figuring out what the hell was going on without scaring the other off. As soon as he realized that I wasn’t going to push him off of me he kissed me back with the determination that he showed in every other aspect of his life. His hands started wandering, first sliding down lower on my back before he moved them to my side, tightly gipping my hips.

I let out a light moan and he used the chance to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue inside my mouth. He tasted like home and I willingly let him walk me backwards until I could feel the kitchen counter behind me, grateful for the leverage it would give me. He surprised me by lifting me back up on it and then pushing himself between my legs, gripping my thighs.

Eventually I did have to come up for air but Mat apparently didn’t concur to the basic laws of biology because he moved straight to my neck, sucking and biting gently until I was sure that goosebumps covered every square inch of my body. I knew I should stop and think about what was going on right now but I really didn’t want to, so instead I just dove right back into another toe curling kiss. Kissing him had quickly become one of my favorite things and I wanted, no I needed more.

“Mat, wait…”, I murmured against his mouth and he immediately took a step back, looking up at me with an expectant look. I could tell that he thought he’d done something wrong, when in reality it was the exact opposite.

“I want you but I don’t know if the kitchen counter is the right place for that.”

As soon as my words registered with him he groaned, burying his face in my neck.

“Then let’s get you somewhere comfortable… for now”, he teased and the wink he gave me told me that we’d definitely continue this in here another time. I let him lift me down, following behind him as he pulled me towards his bedroom with an urgency that I had only seen in games so far. He was pretty laid-back usually but I could tell that I’d riled him up over the past few days or weeks really.

It seemed like Mat couldn’t hold out until he got me onto his bed though, instead pushing me against the door and leaning down to kiss me again, pushing one of his thighs in between my legs. He fumbled around for a while before finally hitting the right light switch, making the room glow in soft yellow lighting.

His lips were addicting and even when he moved back I didn’t let him, chasing after him for another kiss. Using one of his hands to brace himself the other was slowly pushing up the fabric of my shirt. That wasn’t enough for me so I quickly moved to pull it off. I wasn’t wearing a bra and he cursed as soon as he saw my exposed chest, taking his time to look me up and down.

“So beautiful”, he murmured in awe before moving in again, one of his hands cupping my breast. I let out a moan when he started playing with my nipple which only seemed to spur him on further. I was so turned on already and he hadn’t even done much yet.

Determined to change up the power dynamics I pushed at his chest and he took a step back with a confused look, probably wondering if he’d done something wrong. Confusion turned into amazement as he watched me kiss down his chest before finally sinking down to my knees in front of him.

I took my time kissing his abs and mouthing along the ‘V’ that disappeared into his pants. I could see him straining against his shorts, impressed by what I could make out through the fabric. When I licked along his waistline he let out a beautiful groan and I decided I’d had teased him enough, finally hooking my fingers into his shorts and pulling them down along with his boxers. Him being shirtless already certainly made it easier to get him naked.

I watched his dick spring free, bouncing against his abs and looking absolutely delicious. He was impressively long but it was the girth that truly wowed me, finally making me understand all of the girls that came back time after time.

I gripped his thigh with one hand and reached for his dick with the other, making him curse. When I gave the head a little kitten lick he threaded his hands into my hair, practically pushing me down on him so I’d give him more. I didn’t object, wrapping my mouth around him and taking as much of him as I could, my hand taking care of the rest. The filthy sounds he was letting out above me only making me more enthusiastic and I was pretty sure that he’d have little crescent marks on his thighs for the next few days from how I was digging my nails into his thigh. He didn’t seem to mind though, only moaning my name.

“Fuck, you look so good like that”, Mat murmured and I looked up to him watching me intently. I kept my gaze locked on his as I moved back to let him go, my hand continuing to stroke him but my mouth dropping down to suck at his balls. The moan he let out would have made any porn star jealous.

It didn’t take long for him to pull me off of him in a way that told me that he didn’t actually want to, both of us panting as if we’d just ran a marathon.

“You need to stop or I’m going to cum”, he let out, his hoarse voice turning me on so much that I was pretty sure I’d be dripping down my legs if it weren’t for the fact that I was still wearing some clothes.

“Would that be such a bad thing?”, I teased, grinning up at him, not being able to resist licking up the entire length of his shaft once more. He practically pulled me up to my feet after that, moving in for another searing kiss.

“I’ve wanted you for so long and there’s no way I’m gonna finish before we even started.” He started to push me back towards his bed, changing his mind halfway there as he bent down to pick me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. For the first time I was able to feel him press against me, the thin fabric of my shorts not really doing much and holy shit did he feel good. He sat down on the edge of his bed, me now straddling his lap and I couldn’t help but roll my hips against him, desperate for any friction at this point.

The both of us let out a simultaneous moan at that and Mat buried his face in my neck, slowly sucking along my collarbone. He gripped my waist, his big hands nearly encircling it entirely.

“You’re wearing too many clothes still”, he said with his lips moving against my skin, making me shudder yet again. I’d long lost count a long time ago.

“Then do something about it”, I responded, not really willing to move at this point. He quickly stood up with me still perched on top of him before turning the both of us around, dropping me down onto the middle of the mattress. Him throwing me around like I weighed nothing really did something to me and I looked up at him through hooded eyes, waiting for him to make the next move.

He didn’t disappoint, leaning down to trail kisses from my neck, mouthing along my boobs before finally moving to pull my shorts and panties off. He took his time, making sure to appreciate every new inch of skin that he’d just exposed on the way back up and the closer he got to my core the more I was squirming underneath him. I had been waiting for this for so long that I wasn’t sure if I could make it through another minute without him inside me.

“Mat please, I really need you”, I whined and I could see him smirk up at me from where he’d situated himself between my legs.

“Don’t worry I’ll make you feel so good baby.” Hearing him call me ‘baby’ only made things worse but he finally put me out of my misery when he ran one of his large beautiful fingers through my folds.

“Holy shit you’re so wet for me already”, he cursed and I was about to respond when he literally took my breath away by licking up my slit. I couldn’t help but arch off the bed, already so keyed up and he quickly threw one arm across me stomach, forcing me to stay still. He started out slow and I knew that he was only trying to egg me on further but his resolve didn’t last long and he soon dove in with a determination that had sounds coming out of my mouth that I’d never made before in my entire life.

He moved my legs to rest on his shoulders so he could have better access and because I really needed something to hold on to for dear life, I gripped his hair. He’d said a couple of times that it had gotten too long during this quarantine but I certainly wasn’t complaining now, using it as leverage. I could see him grind against the comforter, desperate for any kind of friction himself and it was the hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life.

He moved back a little and I was about to complain when he slowly pushed a finger inside of me, any words dying in my throat at the feeling. He lowered his mouth again, sucking hard on my clit and I moaned so loud that I was glad that we were alone in the house.

“More, Mat please”, I whispered and I almost couldn’t believe that he already had me begging. He groaned and the vibrations in combination of him pushing a second finger inside of me were almost too much. I was close and I knew that he could tell from the way my thighs were starting to shake, curling his fingers inside me until he finally found the spot that made me cum so hard with a scream that I could see stars. He brought me through it, still pushing in and out slowly when I finally returned back to earth, grinning up at me proudly after wiping his mouth on the inside of my thigh.

“That was so fucking hot”, he said and I laughed, throwing my arm over my eyes in embarrassment. I’d had my fair share of hookups as well but nobody had managed to make me feel this good. I could feel him move up my body, reaching for my arm so he could look me in the eyes again before leaning down for a kiss. I could taste myself on his lips and while kissing him was still amazing, it wasn’t enough anymore. Mat seemed to catch my drift because he rolled off of me, only to reach for his nightstand, feeling around for a bit before triumphantly holding up a foil packet.

Taking advantage of him on his back I moved to straddle his thighs, taking his cock in my hands once again. He bucked his hips involuntarily and I could tell that he needed this as much as I did at this point. I took the foil package from him, ripping it open with my teeth before rolling the condom down his shaft. He gripped my hips, helping me scoot up until I was positioned above him, holding him so I could slip the tip inside.

Both of us let out simultaneous groans when I finally sunk down on him, the stretch painful in the most delicious way. He gave me a couple of seconds to adjust but I wasn’t really willing to wait any longer, rolling my hips against him.

“Your pussy feels so good around me”, he panted as he helped guide me along with his hands while looking me deep in the eyes. His pupils were so blown at this point, his cheeks were flushed and he’d never looked better. I was a moaning mess above him and I wanted to remember the way his cock was dragging against my walls for the rest of my life. One of his hands still rested on my hip while his other grabbed my boob, twisting the nipple and making me moan even louder.

At one point he moved to sit up, our chests now pressed together. The new angle had my clit rub against his pelvic bone and I knew that I’d come again like this with no extra help needed. Mat moved to kiss my neck, sucking and biting so harshly that I was sure that there’d be marks there the next day, not that anybody besides us would be able to see them.

His groans had become more erratic as well and I knew that he probably wasn’t far behind me, my name constantly on his lips. One last drag against him had me arch into him with yet another earth-shattering orgasm, Mat doing his best to fuck me through it before turning us around so he was on top of me, using his hands to hold himself above me so he wouldn’t crush me.

He grabbed one of my legs and pushed it up to rest on his hip, thrusting into me with a force that had the headboard slam into the wall repeatedly. He felt so good that with every thrust I let out a little moan, still sensitive from my orgasm, which only seemed to spur Mat on even more. I was digging my nails into his back to the point where I was sure that there would be red streaks after but he didn’t seem to care at all, too lost in the moment. It didn’t take long before he threw his head back and I could feel him pulse inside me as he came, the most beautiful groan coming from his lips as he finally stilled inside me.

He crashed down on top of me, burying his face in my neck, both of us out of breath by now and covered in sweat. He was silent for a while until he caught me off guard when he started laughing.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just thinking.. we could’ve been doing that for weeks, I certainly wanted to.”

“I did too but I guess we’re both stupid.”

Now we were both laughing and Mat moved off of me so he could pull out, gripping the condom so it wouldn’t slip off. He threw it in the trash can in the corner before coming back, his hand outstretched for me to take.

“I guess we have some catching up to do then, starting right now with me and you in the shower”, he said with a wink and I couldn’t think of a time where I’d gotten out of bed faster.

#Mat Barzal #smut #nhl smut #hockey smut #Mat Barzal smut #mat barzal x reader #new york islanders #hockey writing #ice hockey #nhl #nhl imagine

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wienerbarnes · 4 years ago

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Necessary Evil

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 1,816

Warnings: nothing crazy, typical canon violence type stuff, special character appearance👀

A/N: so sorry for not posting this like two days ago when i said i was going to🥴 ive had a ton going on and ive been a busy bee but hopefully ill get myself organized for next week :) question for yall! should i keep the friday posting schedule or do thursdays instead bc of fatws on fridays? lmk!

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

It’s been a confusing couple of weeks. You’ve been placed on a temporary leave while you finish your recovery after the last mission.

You’ve been trying to learn as much about your new powers as you can, not really understanding what they are or how they work considering that most of the time they’ve shown themselves it’s been accidental.

Making Bucky drop food, slamming doors shut, sending stuff flying across the room. At this point you’ll tape your hands at your sides if it means you’ll stop making such a mess everywhere.

Everything has been put on halt. You don’t cook, in fear of starting a fire or making a mess in your kitchen, you don’t spar with anyone or workout unless it’s in a closed off and sealed training room used for when the Hulk was at the tower, in fear of hurting people around you, and unfortunately, you haven’t let Bucky be around you much in fear of hurting him.

He tells you that you’re not going to hurt him and that even if you did he wouldn’t take it personally, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. The two of you got into a heated argument a few days ago when he offered to let you use him as a practice dummy for your new powers.

“How dare you suggest something like that to me?!”

“Well, I just meant that -”

“Meant what? How would you feel if I asked you to slap me around like a ragdoll with your metal arm? Make you go Winter Soldier on me?”

“That’s not the same thing, and you know it.”

“Isn’t it though?”

It wasn’t pretty.

It also didn’t help that Bucky was sent on a solo mission recently. He couldn’t tell you much about it, and you didn’t push it, knowing the two of you were still a bit rocky with each other, and knowing that it would only put more stress on you constantly thinking about his mission.

Boy, did you miss him though. You’re glad you put aside your pride to hug and kiss him goodbye, taking in his warmth, his love, his smell, savoring his arms around you and his lips on yours before he left. With the way he held and kissed you, you think he felt the same.

That was two days ago. Alpine has been the one to keep you the most company. She’s gotten big, and it’s a lot more fun to play around with her now. You trail a feather attached to the end of a string around the ground while she tries to pounce after it. A knock at the door doesn’t even pull her attention away from the toy as you let her win and catch it, standing up from your sitting position on the floor.

You open it to reveal Sam in more casual clothes than his regular tactical pants and shirt, and you return the smile he gives you.

“You busy?” He asks.

You look over your shoulder to see Alpine still pawing at the feather on the ground.

“No, I’m not busy, what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hang out, we both got the day off, figured I’d show you the best danishes in New York.”

You’re not sure if Bucky put him up to this or if this is a way to keep you from going batshit being stuck in your room not being able to do anything, but you accept the offer anyway. It’ll be nice to get some air.

“Do you, uhm,” You begin, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“What’s up?” Sam asks, the guy from the VA coming out, encouraging you to tell him.

“Do you know if Bucky’s okay? I haven’t heard from him, is all.” You ask, slipping on some shoes and heading back out into the hallway with Sam.

“I mean, I’m sure he’s fine, why wouldn’t he be?”

“Just that I know these solo missions can be anywhere and he could be doing anything, but I still worry. I didn’t know if you knew where he was or anything.”

He doesn’t. He doesn’t know, because Bucky told him Steve asked him for a few favors and he needed some off time for a couple of days. He thought Bucky was in rural New York. There’s no mission. But he supposes he’s not supposed to tell you that.

“Yeah, I don’t know much about it. Fury’s probably the one behind it.” Fury’s in Florida for his niece’s sixth birthday. He doesn’t tell you that either.

Luckily you accept it and enter the elevator to leave the private floor and go to the common area, able to leave out the backway of the tower.

“Avenger in the building, Captain.”

Sam doesn’t understand. Avenger? Who’s even around anymore?

“Uh, huh? Bucky?”

“No, Captain.”

“Clint?”

“No.”

“Who’s here?”

“Underoos.”

Underoos? Where has he heard that? Isn’t that -

The elevator doors open to the common room, a teenage boy stands with his back towards the two of you. His head whips around in typical teenage fashion and your eyebrows shoot up, unaware that the Avengers recruited teenagers.

“Is that a fucking kid?”

“Peter?” Sam asks, clearly surprised at the boy being in front of him. He hasn’t seen him in years. He wasn’t even sure where he was all this time, assuming he was in school, with his Aunt, but now he’s here.

“Sam! And his lady... friend. How are you?!”

“The lady friend has a name.” You chirp.

“What are you doing here?”

You and Sam speak at the same time. Peter addresses you first, “And your name is…?”

“Uh, Agent 51.” You didn’t think that through.

“Weird name, but alright.”

“Peter.” Sam brings his attention back to his question.

“Who is this guy?” You ask, clearly lost on who this person is and how he’s an Avenger.

“This is Spider-Man.” Sam tells you nonchalantly.

“Uh- Sam?!” Peter exclaims.

“What, she works with us, now. She doesn’t have anyone to tell anyway.”

“Sam?!” You elbow him.

“Why are you here, Peter.” Sam asks again.

“Well, you know, I was in school, doing some stuff here and there for Hill and Fury, and I figured I’d stop by.” He smiles.

You and Sam stare in silent confusion.

“Okay, look. I feel… lost. Like I feel like I’ve come to terms with Tony dying and stuff, but, I don’t know...” Peter finally cuts to the point.

You know very little about Spider-Man. You definitely didn’t know he was a kid, but you also didn’t know that he had some sort of a close relationship with Tony Stark. You’re becoming more and more like Bucky everyday; not knowing who any of these people are, not remembering seemingly important events, hell, not even knowing have these things happened because you were under Hydra.

“Peter, we don’t -”

“I’m not asking for help. More so asking if you have anything for me to do, or something.” His smile falls. You’re definitely confused, but you feel for the guy. You remember feeling lost as a teenager, losing the people you looked up to. And that lost feeling landed you in the Marines and the Marines landed you with a terrorist organization. We should help him, you immediately think.

“I’m sorry, man.” Sam offers. He wants to help Peter, as annoying as he finds him. Being a teenager is hard, and being Spider-Man is harder. But, Sam can’t forget that he’s still a kid in school with only his aunt and a few friends around him. He doesn’t want to put a person like that in the immense danger they throw themselves into, even if he knows he can handle it.

“No worries, I’ll be on my way, then.” Peter nervously scratches at his eyebrow.

“Sure you don’t want to stick around here for a bit? I know the Avengers aren’t much of a thing anymore, but, you always got a room here; a place to stay.” Sam tells him, assuming Peter’s on the verge of having a sort of coming-of-age moment.

“No, no, I need to be with May. I’ll see if I can, uh, maybe stop by more often. Maybe. If that’s alright. Nice to meet you, uh, Miss 51!” He bids farewell before walking away awkwardly, leaving Sam with a sort of sullen look on his face and you still very confused.

“What was that whole thing about?” You finally break the silence as you two make your way towards the private garage elevators.

“I’ll tell you over danishes.”

Bucky plants his fist into the HYDRA soldier’s face for the sixth time, the sound of metal hitting flesh making a slushy sound with little clanks, signifying teeth hitting the floor.

“This is the last time I ask you before I kill you. Where is Bychkov, Morozov, and that fuck with metal arms?” He pants beneath the black mask and goggles, an outfit he hadn’t dawned in so long.

Your list is heavy in his pocket, he thinks about the names he’s already crossed off and few he has left. He’s not going to stop until he finds the handlers that captured you and the supposed soldier with metal arms that shot you, details you only mentioned to him once after a nightmare that he refused to ever forget.

“They… went back… to base… in Kiev. Just… north of it.” He struggles out.

One step closer. Bucky stands taller, letting the man slump on the ground, and he reaches for the knife at his thigh.

“Wait! I - I told you… where they went!”

“I was going to kill you whether you told me or not, you Nazi fuck.” Is all he says before he slashes the knife, ending the bastard’s life.

Leaving the man’s home, he rounds a corner into the night and replaces his knife, taking out a pen in one of his many pockets as well as your list.

He crosses off Antonov, looking down at the four remaining names, two of which were the men that did this to you.

He takes a breath, the layers of leather and kevlar straining over his muscles as he sighs. He never thought he’d be hunting people down like this, Nazi or not. He never thought he’d have this black mask and these goggles over his eyes. But he also never thought HYDRA would touch the love of his life the way they did; never thought they’d put you in that chair.

So, now, he’s only getting revenge. It’s the least he can do after this organization has stolen his life, kept him from seeing his family forever, took his arm, gave him PTSD, gave his girlfriend PTSD and injected her with who knows what only to put her in that goddamn chair.

While he never thought he’d be in this position, they asked for it, and he’s not sorry.

On to the next name.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfictions #marvel #bucky barnes series #idk if yall know this but i love spiderman #my fav marvel character #love him more than bucky i just don't read or write for him for some reason idk i just never got into that #and the new spiderman is coming out in december !#i slowly want to incorporate characters into c2c #like i added wanda and plan to write a oneshot or two delving into her and reader meeting and getting to know each other #and then the loki series comes out in june so maybe ill play w that #im just not sure if ill adapt c2c to fatws #depends where it goes and how it ends #we'll see #anyway #yall know u can always send ideas or requests for me to play around with #thanks for reading if you made it this far

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reineyday · 4 years ago

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bnha characters as volleyball players (au headcanons)

i have never in my life played volleyball outside of gym class and the occasional beach jaunt, so this is all based off of what i learned from haikyuu LOL

anyways, this started as tags from this fanart by @syblatortue of deku, kacchan, kiri, sero, iida and shouto as vball players, and then it got away from me so if you wanna read 2.9k worth of headcanons about powerhouse athletics high school UA then go ahead and press “read more” :)

deku's the calculating setter like kenma and he fanboys over stats from the international to the national to the high school

kacchan used to make fun of him and look down on him bc he used to think too much on court to move properly, and as a kid kacchan used to think that it was spiking or bust so he always gave deku grief and bullied him over being slow and weak

in middle school kacchan was a starter since first year and eventually became the ace but deku was always second string setter

his athleticism was nothing to write home about but he was just good enough to make the bench

in their middle school tournament their starting setter got injured and deku had to step in to set for a match for the first time ever

powerhouse volleyball high school coach yagi toshinori is watching and he sees all the aborted plans in deku's setting choices

he sees the gutsy sets that miss and the one successful dump he did that threw everyone off-guard (even deku himself), and yagi remembers what it was like to be hungry for volleyball seeing the look in this kid's eyes and he recognizes the brain on him

their team loses there though bc the fact is that deku wasnt athletic enough to do it and kacchan is yelling and deku's crying

but yagi approaches deku (who freaks out bc all might is THE legendary vball player of their country, and the nation was SHOOK when after getting severely injured by a malicious spike in the wrong place he chose to coach high school vball, even if the school was a powerhouse school and also his alma mater lol)

but anyways deku babbles and fanboys even through his tears and says he got into UA but he's not sure he can make the vball team, and yagi says he sees the potential in deku's plays and if he trains hard every. single. day. from now until the tryouts at UA, he might make at least the bench

(cue montage)

kacchan is angry to see deku at tryouts and fuckn RAGING when deku more or less keeps up bc deku got buff since their last high school match

unfortunately for kacchan he is actually the one most familiar with deku's playing since they trained together in middle school too, and he almost pops a blood vessel just thinking it but ever since deku started actually being able to get to the ball in time, vball has been more fun ‘cuz the things deku ends up doing are fucking batshit crazy and his sets are begrudgingly his favourite to hit

deku sets right where kacchan can just hit the ball as violently as he can, and it sounds like a bomb goes off when the spike hits the ground

(kacchan also obviously has the best serves and he mixes it up with the power ones like his ap shots, or floaters when he's strategic; he knows how to read the opposing team and either wait or serve really fast and serves up high to blind them like his flashbomb explosions, and he’s really arrogant about his serves but at least he can back it up as per classic kacchan)

anyways they become a really intimidating duo, apart but especially together, because despite the way deku still occasionally cowers from kacchan’s rage and kacchan is often yelling and antagonizing deku, they can read each other really smoothly on court and they match each other really easily, and they both go for the really gutsy shit no one else would think to try (like samu and tsumu going for the freak quick with samu setting kind of gutsy)

kacchan is also antagonizing af and calls the other team extras lol

but yeah, those two along with renown olympic vball player todoroki enji's son shouto are the three most intimidating first years at UA

enji has a very aggressive playing style and where he targets people on the opposing team specifically to make them sweat, makes them feel like he’s hot on their heels even from the other side of the net, always glaring, always strong

shouto hates it and hates the way his dad made him train day in and day out just because he had a good reaction time and instincts for the ball when he was young

fuyumi and natsuo were slow as kids and got immediately dismissed bc of it bc to enji if they werent athletic enough for the ideal vball playing style as children then theyd never be athletic enough to beat all might’s vball career and metrics in the future

touya was fast enough but he overtrained and strained his knees and then continued straining them to play anyways till they were permanently damaged, and by the time he graduated middle school, his doctor put him on orders to never ever ever do anything that might be overly strenuous for his knees ever again

anyways, shouto plays very cool and detached, like even when he spikes the ball right into your face you’ll feel like he wasn’t looking; he’s a middle blocker like suna, stays calm but uses his whole body

deku eventually convinces him that playing with fire every once in a while, especially when he spikes, can be a good thing because at the end of the day, his dad may have taught him the tricks but it’s shouto himself who’s playing, and so it’s not his dad’s style, it’s his own

also the spikes just aren’t as good or as psychologically effective if shouto’s not 100p IN it when he goes to spike one of deku’s demanding sets

and im gonna say shouto is ambidextrous but more comfortable with his left hand in this volleyball au because shouto’s left side is his fire side, and it’s more parallel to the character to make his more aggressive spiking hand his left one but still have him be able to use his left hand for spikes too (it’s also SO stressful for opponents bc angles)

also yes he does indeed only play with his right hand (his ice side) when he gets into UA, and is initially very hellbent on proving to his father that he can become a pro vball player without being as aggressive as enji on court and without using his more dominant hand, the hand that his dad’s been focusing on whenever they trained at home, the hand he’s spent hours and hours spiking and serving with since he was like five years old

one day deku notices shouto’s writing with his left hand and then connects the dots and sort of badgers him into spiking one of his sets with his left hand too and then yeah shouto tells him his life story and deku manages to emotionally coerce him into being okay with his left-handed spikes

(shouto also feels better about it when deku points out the left-handed angles thing)

so yeah that’s the big three scary first year starters: calculating and gutsy deku, who occasionally makes plays so gutsy he’s at risk of twisting one of his limbs in a very scary way (he’s always bruised in weird ass places from volleyball); raging, aggressive but also cunning kacchan, who is undoubtedly the loudest on any court he’s on, and ambidextrous hot and cold shouto, who does a pretty solid general defense with little holes but has scary aggressive spikes

btw shouto’s got a fanclub and they call him the volleyball prince

also at one point they totally play a practice match against shiketsu and UA loses bc inasa starts antagonizing shouto for being exactly like his father (inasa asked for enji’s autograph after a match once when he was a kid and got rudely blown off) and shouto gets offended and starts targeting inasa and then they get outplayed (it was a close match though ‘cuz both of them couldnt get their heads out of their asses and both their teams were suffering as a result)

alrighty, the other players in that fanart lmao!

kirishimaaaaa my dude my bro, super solid libero, always pumps up the team, and his defense is unbreakable! will receive even the scariest, most powerful spikes and smile cheerfully through it; will always insist that you’re manly for playing with everything you have and never letting fear get in the way of going for it

his middle school had a huge and scary substitute gym teacher who didn’t have mercy and spiked hard right to the faces of the students, and kiri really wanted to run forward to receive the spike and yell about how unfair this teacher was but he froze because the spike seemed unforgiving and if he received it wrong, what if his nose broke? what if he fell and broke something from the impact? mina didnt pause though and she received the spike and told off their substitute teacher and then reported it to their homeroom teacher and it was so manly of her, he promised himself he would never hesitate just bc of a scary spike again

btw mina’s all-around athletic and could probably make it onto the girls vball team but she’s probably on the UA dance team (UA is a powerhouse school for many sports, and theyre famous for their athletics department bc they often hire (former) pro-athletes to teach and coach)

iida comes from a family of sprint runners and he’s the one they trust for the most running; he’s their first year decoy and he’s fast af for such a big guy, and he often also provides extra block support from zooming left and right

also enjoys helping out the managers and corralling his team into being good students; he’d offer to tutor kirishima but kiri seems to have fun trying to be friends with bakugou lol; he makes it known that he’s there if kiri wants some extra patience to go along with his studies though

sero guess blocks so accurately people like to say that he’s got tape coming from his elbows, bringing the ball straight to his arms so that he can block; actually he’s pretty known for having weirdly accurate control bumping the ball back from places other than his hands (esp his elbows though), like he’s just so aware of his body, and he uses everything he can to keep the ball off the ground so he’s good at general defense

some other people i wanna mention:

aizawa’s their supervising teacher and the first year homeroom teacher (he gets to hear bakugou explode both first thing in the morning AND right at the end of the day, oh joy); all might just coaches ‘cuz he does other former pro stuff during class time, so he somehow ended up in charge of the volleyball club after the previous teacher stopped being able to

he never went pro but he’s a black belt mixed martial artist, and he still does those parent-child karate classes with hitoshi (who is now close to black belt and on the demo team, since they’ve been doing this since hitoshi was like five) and eri (who just got her yellow belt! aizawa is soft)

only hizashi, nemuri, oboro and his kids know this but he’s also REALLY good at doing aerial silk and he looks graceful af when he does it

hitoshi started kinda learning aerial silk when hizashi took him to a rock climbing place that had the silks on the ceiling (dont at me, there’s a place EXACTLY like this where i used to live lmao) and found out they offer classes there, and hizashi laughed and said “yknow your dad is pro at those right”

ochako is their first year manager, and when everyone is confused about kacchan continuing to call deku something so mean, she talks about how the nickname is cute and gives off the impression that he’s trying his best and when deku grins and blushes and seems to be happy with it, the whole team starts calling him deku with the same intentions and fondness behind it

every time other people hear UA calling their starting setter “deku” theyre so confused

nejire is the third year manager leaving and she does gymnastics and dance outside of school

mirio is the ace and his thing is that he is very strong and very precise, and he moves like he phases through the other players

tamaki is a middle blocker that can adapt all kinds of playing strategies pretty fast as long as he’s got time to digest them and decent food in his stomach—he’s a great decoy ‘cuz his spikes are hard and he’s pretty fast too, and while he prefers read blocking, there are a few times he guess blocks and it’s accurate af and kinda scary honestly

tamaki and mirio are also pretty fearsome ‘cuz people start off scared of mirio’s power spikes and serves (btw his goal is to spike a million service aces LOL), and then tamaki kind of surprises them ‘cuz he seems to be able to just? do everything??? (and theyre extra surprised bc no doubt he’ll be talking himself down and doubting himself before the match and the opponents will think like “oh good he’s mentally weak” and he kind of is but also holy shit??? we got blocked AGAIN???) and so they sort of only keep a peripheral eye on mirio while they start focusing on tamaki, and then all of a sudden mirio’s not where you thought he was and how’d he get there so fast and there other players in the way??? and then mirio spikes one in

this isn’t really related to anything else but you BET mirio can bend low and do insanely accurate bump receives from pretty close to the ground like! his thighs and knees are legend

we don’t really know any second year bnha students, but i’d like to think their starting team isn’t just first years, so i’d say like… hm or mb tamaki is starting setter (all the stuff about adapting and easily digesting strategies still applies, as well as his flexible skillset, it just now includes setting) and mirio is his ace, but all might puts deku in a lot more than you’d expect a bench player to be subbed in not only ‘cuz it shakes up the other team to see such a meek-looking kid do these gutsy-ass sets, but also bc it’s good for tamaki’s mental health that he feels like he’s got a really great setter right there supporting him as well, even though he knows (objectively) that he can hold the fort on his own

so yeah, id say tamaki and mirio for sure starters (mirio is captain), kirishima’s a starter (he’s always been really good, he just used to get a little scared off in matches sometimes, but since the thing with mina, he’s been really gunning for it, and also conveniently their last really good libero graduated the year before and they didn’t really have a good backup), shouto’s a starter (he’s lowkey mad about it bc it feels like he’s fulfilling his dad’s legacy and he doesnt want to be), and probably two second years, that feels fair

bakugou’s benched bc his temper’s still a little too unwieldy for the court (much to his dismay), sero’s still patching up holes in his defense, and deku could stand to watch other people’s playing styles, but u bet theyre all fearsome af when theyre on court: deku seems to be the only one that seems to be able to bring out shouto’s terrifying spikes for now; after their first qualifiers, rumours fly around the vball circuit about his angry pinch server that’s so mad he’s not a regular, he takes it all out on his serves and rip the team that has to try and receive them

well okay, so bakugou is the only that i can qualify as actually fearsome bc even when he’s being intimidating sero is a pretty chill dude, and deku looks too nice to really be scary so the opponents usually arent scared until he starts playing and then for them it’s just this internal monologue of “what the fuck? what the FUCK???”

and sero, while chill, is the type to be aggressively cheerful and grin really wide after he blocks and gives you, the opponent, really supportive feedback that sort of still offends you but in a way you cant refute because every word he said was nice and his demeanour was nice too and yet? you kinda wanna strangle him??? and then he laughs winsomely and blocks your next spike too (like, “awh i noticed you have a tendency to follow here when xyz happens, but better luck next time right? that’s usually a pretty good play”)

and of COURSE their school banner says “plus ultra”

ANYWAYS i went OFF lmao i can’t believe i really wrote 2.9k of headcanons for this

i have waaaay more ideas about what the rest of the class and other characters are up to in this au that is powerhouse athletics high school UA so if for some reason you got all the way to the end then thank you and please interact if you wanna talk more about it!!!

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha headcanons #mha #my hero academia #mha headcanons #haikyuu fusion #sort of #rei rambles #rei writes #(sort of)#it was fun trying to parallel their quirks to their vball playing style haha

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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New X-Men Xtrospective Part 2: Germ Free Generation (Annual, #117-120)

Hello all you happy mutants! And welcome back to my look one of my faviorite runs of one of my faviorite super teams by one of my faviorite comic book writers!

For those of you just joining us.. it’s been a while. I did the first instalment of this retrospective back in early January as a present to my friend for christmas, as he had never read E is for Extinctoin and what with this run being vital to the current, utterly brilliant Krakoa era of X-Men. But with both Black History Month and Valentine’s day, February had no real room for this one and march ended up being just as crammed with me doing essentially the entire della arc of ducktales in one month. I didn’t mean for this retrospective to get pushed so far back, but since I gave up doing weekly coverage of Final Space I had some room on the schedule so this retrospective is back with a vengance with two entries this month and hopefully at least one a month afterword to keep it at a decent clip.

Last time I covered the background of this run and didn’t really find much for the issues after, so I won’t have to spend as much time on background.

So since i’ts been a few months, a refresher is probably in order

PREVIOUSLY, ON X-MEN: Our merry mutants enterted a marvelous new era. As Charles redidciated to the dream with new equipment and a new uniforms our hero encounter a new villian: The Mysterious Cassandra Nova, a powerful telepath who used an uwitting patsy from the trask family and a defucnt sentinel factory to slaughter the mutant nation of Genosha, killing 16 million mutants in the most horrific act of genocide against mutants ever known. And the fact there has been more than one genocide against mutant kind MIGHT, just MIGHT be the reason they blackmailed for peace with life saving drugs instead of helping willingly and freely in the current comics. Just maybe.

Cassandra was captured by the X-Men soon after but escaped and nearly got a hold of Cerebra only to be stopped thanks to a combination of former enemy, genoshan resident at the time of the genocide, and that bitch Emma Frost who snapped her neck and Charles himself who uncharacteristically shot Cassandra in the head. That night Charles took a bold step over that would change the X-Men forever and told the world on live tv:

While all of this was going on we got caught up on the team’s personal struggles, currently consisting of Cyclops, Jean Grey, Beast and Wolverine with Emma joining as of the issue we’re about to cover. Beast is grappling with a secondary mutation that makes him look like Aslan, the jesus of narnia and all lions. Meanwhile Scott and Jean are grappling with their non existant sex life as Cyclops possesion by Apocalypse shortly before this story has severely rattled him and caused him to close himself off emotionally.

So that’s where we pick up. Our heroes are now no longer hiden saftely in the shadows from a world that hates and fear them but are out front and center with the world watching. And we’ll see both how that helps their cause and how it puts them directly in the cross hairs under the cut. Content Warning: This review discusses Transphobia and a scene involving a school shooting. If either of these are a trigger for you or something you do not want to read about please skip this part of the retrospective for your own well being. Thank you and have a lovely day.

The Man From Room X:

We have three stories today: an annual that introduces our final team member and the main villians of our next arc, a one off that moves the main plot for the first 12 issues along, and a three part arc about said villains. Before we get into the Annual, I have to talk about it’s weird gimmick: The issue is entirely sideways. I don’t mean it’s bad though some parts are problematic I mean when bought it’d be on it’s side and in my trade I have to flip the whole thing over on it’s side to read it. It’s just a .. weird choice. Not the weirdest thing about this issue somehow but not unexpected from Grant as they like to play with the formula.

We open in said Room X, a location in China where a mutant named Xorn is kept and showed off to a mysterious group of dickweeds in suits representing “Mr. Sublime”. His jailer, General Aao Jun,, shows him off as most bad guys would : By undoing his helmet and thus disntegrating two innocent children just by looking at them. Sublime says they have a deal.

Meanwhile also in China the X-Men are there for a funeral and Emma and Scott trade insulting questions back in forth: She mocks him about his lack of sex with Jean lately and he brings up her criminal past. As for why Emma’s still with the x-men.. it’s out of pragmatisim. WIth Genosha gone, the x-men are the saftest faction to throw in with.

As for why the X-Men are in China, Charles has rapidly expanded his operations now he’s public by setting up X-Corps, a multinational humantarian aid organization dedicated to helping mutants in need wherever they sprout up. He’s set up offices in Hong Kong, Amsterdam, Mumbai and Melborne.

He’s also half assed it, at least for the Hong Kong office and only gave them two employees: Domino, who those of you not as familiar with the comics may remember from deadpool and Risque.. who I honestly had never heard of before New X-Men and frequently forget existed. I just looked her up for the first time and she’s a minor mutant who was an associate of X-Force and Warpath’s love intrest. She could compress matter causing it to implode. My assumption here is that Morrison simply picked a minor mutant at random for the job.

But yeah naturally with only two mutants charged with, according to domino “All of asia” went horribly and the x-men are there for Risque’s funeral and to find out what happened. Unsuprisingly it’s tied into our cold open: Risque had found evidence of a mutant trafficking operation and died fighting them off and Dom is naturally f eeling in over her head since said operation involves the chinese goverment, who according to her exccute most mutants at birth and John Sublime and his cult.

We soon see a press confrence from this asshole and find out what his deal is: Sublime is the head of the U-Men, a group that belivies they are a “third species” of mutants trapped in human bodies that deserve to have the surgery to make them into mutants, and thus wear weird suits until the world is pure and allows them to have surgery for it.

Yeahhhh this.. this is really fucking uncomfortable and is going to be present throughout today’s piece so let’s just go ahead and rip that band-aid off: The U-Men come off as HIGHLY transphobic. They use terms similar to trans people call themselves trans species and are trapped inside a body they don’t belong in. It’s VERY uncomfortable to read as a result and something that hadn’t really sunk into till thsi reading but once it had.. oh god does this not age well.

The one thing that keeps this from runing the run and Grant Morrison as a whole for me.. is that I do not think for one second it was intentional. Grant themself is genderqueer, nonbinary and a cross dresser. None of this means they CAN’T be prejudice, being Queer does not magically make you immune to being prejudiced. But before this Grant had the genderqueer sentient street Danny the Street over in doom patrol and a trans main character in his book the invisibles, Lord Fanny. And given New X-Men’s biggest flaw as a whole is clumsy early 2000′s unforutnate implications such as a good chunk of the things about Cyclops affair with Emma, we’ll get to that at the right time, Angel in the next arc and Dust, who was introduced as from afganastan wearing an outfit not seen in the country and speaking a language not spoken in the country. Grant didn’t make these mistakes TWICE, it’s why I still have respect for them, and this won’t be the first or last comic i’ve forgiven for being stupid for it’s time. But I will still call Grant out when I see it. Just because I respect an author just because they changed my life does not mean I won’t call them out when they fuck up. And if they prove to be truly vile, have harmed someone or what have you I will cut them the fuck out of my life. I’ve done it with JK Rowling, Warren Ellis, Brad Jones and Joss Whedon. I would do it with Grant if I truly belivied they were transphobic and instead didn’t just write something very stupid without thinking the metaphor through 20 years ago.

So anyway back to the comic book bollocks as Wolvie and Dominio prepare for an infiltration and flirt a bunch. We also find out Jun is a mutant himself with a power only Grant could dream up: his skin, hair and what have you that falls off him turns into a naked golem for a bit before expiring. And if you hadn’t read this issue before reading this review, yes that actually happened. While the first arc had a BIT of Grant’s trademark batshit insanity, the series REALLY starts to pick it up from here: This issue has a mutant with functioning star for a head, a poorly thought out bucnh of sci fi new age organ theives, and a general whose power is “makes naked clones out of his dandruff”. Oh and his fondest wish?

I just... I don’t know how to respond to that. I don’t know how you respond to an old man’s weird murder fetish that he tells a somehow even creepier cult leader while said cult leader is paying him to buy a star man, and their both surronded by the creepy old guy’s skin golems that weirdly look like mudokons. Look i’ve read Grant’s entire utterly bonkers run on doom patrol. I’ve seen a man who looks like a question mark use a bicycle that makes everyone high like their on LSD for president. And THIS is what breaks me.

So while.. THIS is going on, Dom and Wolverine plan to do it all night long on the professor’s credit card, no really he gives all his professors carte blanch to use school fun, and inflitrate, Dom through the elvator this horrorshow just took place in and Wolvie james bond style. Also I gotta say I REALLY love how Morrison writes Domino. She’s wittiy, entertaining and her power is as awesome as always, super luck if you didn’t know. It’s a real shame he didn’t add her to the team: She wasn’t on any other x-teams, with X-Force having been rebranded into X-Statix by this point. She would’ve been a fun addition to the cast.

Naturally wolverine is found out.. but that was the entire plan, for him to serve as a distraction then cut his way to domino while she steals something from the vault. As for the rest of the X-Men, Cyclops, Beast and Emma are all downstairs in the parking garage and find a secret entrance. Jean is not on this trip and that’s a major plot point for this run. This is where Risque died.. and it only get’s worse when Hank goes inside, finding a bug like child, basically htink a giant caterpillar but with tons of human arms inttead of legs with her wings cut off.

Thankfully as Logan and Dom escape above, the U-Men are dumb enough to storm down bellow.. and while they incapacitate beast with some launched tiny knives, designed to incapcicate but leave them in tact for harvest, Emma beats the shit out of them and get the info out as only she can....

Granted she could’ve just turned back to normal and used her telepathy.. but what fun would that be? Plus they have blockers and you know CUT UP A FUCKING CHILD. SO yeah fuck them, let emma have her fun.

Thanks to her they find out the U-Men are a front for illegal organ harvest, and while they can’t prove sublimes attached Emma suggests killing him. Good idea but Scott suggests the lighter approach and we find out what Dom stole, a key, something Emma can psychcially scan. She warns it might take her a bit to get something.. only to be flooded instantly and we find out who the man in the box was. Shen Xorn... i’ll let emma tell you more herself.

It’s stuff like this why, despite some serious flaws like the U-Men debacle and some stuff to come, some I mentioned above other that’s just with the plot that i love this run. Morrison just gets how to really tell an x-men story and the real tragedy of being a mutant. That just for being diffrent, you get shut out, or in this case thrown into a box when you could’ve and should’ve been something more. As emma turns herself to diamond to deal with the psychic backlash, Beast has some solemn words to share.

That night Scott rests in his bedroom while presumibly hearing some truly horrific and sexy things next door while talking to jean before clocking out.. only for Emma to head in in a sexy dress with champagne. What happened? Well we won’t know for sure for most of the run.

The next day the U-Men prepare to load and we get some scrap of what the idea was supposed to be: John talks to Ao Jun about his procedures. We see wings crudely sewen to his back and his throat implaants hurting “But one day I will fly”. THe IDEA is their supposed to be lunatics, people who envy mutantkind but don’t actually respect their culture or their sense of personhood. It’s not the worst idea and had Grant not used trans termnology for htis, it would’ve been a great one. I think he INTENDED for them to be coopting the idea of being trans and what not to maks their true intentions.. which is problematic due to debates like the ones on bathrooms where a lot of transphobic asshats make the bad faith argument a bunch of people are going to pretend to be trans to assault people.

We’re.. we;’re not even to the main storyarc yet.

But things soon go wrong as Xorn’s starhead starts to collapse into a black hole, with no solution as the x-men took the key to his helmet.. and assault the compound. Turns out the star collapse thing is Jun’s revenge on humanity for lockig him down here and he gets his neck snapped. Scott has a solution though.. and it’s stuff like this why I fucking love Scott Summers and get annoyed when people call him “boring”: He realizes Xorn is comitting sucicide.. so he’s going to talk him out of it. Not just for everyone else but he deserves to live. And while Emma points out only logan among htem knows chinese and she can’t get through to Xorns’ head due to the way his brain works, Scott has a simple workaround: Use the nearest chineses speaker to teach Scott chinese. So.. with that he talks to Xorn.

And that my friend is Scott Summers. A man who faced with powerful man whose given up, whose lost all hope... convinces him he can still go on. That living’s better than dying.. and that it does get better. The issue closes with Xorn basking in the sunlight for the first time in decades while Domino sweats having an extremley powerful unknown mutant out in the world. Scott’s already thought of that.. and signed him up with the x-men. Granted it won’t be until our next article that he actually fully joins the team, but w’ell get to that next time.

This issue is great... while the U-Men stuff is pretty bad and isn’t going to get better, the tale of xorn is excitiong, Aao Jun is an intresting antagonist and the sideways gimmick suprisingly works. So now we’ve finshed our apitizer let’s get on to the main course.

Danger Rooms:

We open in well.. the Danger Room with Beast training a new student.

This is Beak. Beak is my faviorite character Morrison came up with and one of my faviorite X-Characters. Beak is a bird like boy who can fly, it’s just a struggle and due to looking diffrent and not having the most impressive power has very low self esteem. It’s also part of something Morrison took a concerted effort to do: introduce more mutants with genuinely odd apperances and drawbacks. Like we saw with Ugly John last time and Aao Jun in the previous issue, Morriosn really likes adding weird mutants but he also uses it to give a genuine downside to being one. While this isn’t NEW to x-men, Morriosn upped the scale and number of characters like this with weird powers and apperances. We see a bunch of human passing ones too but the backgrounds just jammed with all sorts of unique designs and students. It’s also the point where the school became far more crowded like the movies, a good call on my part both to help those coming in from the movies, and to help sell the mutant baby boom going on. After all it wouldn’t make sense if the school was just about 5-7 students and a bunch of grown adults doing superhero stuff like usual would it.

But we get to see that Hank is a good teacher, as he reminds the boy that he’s getting better and won’t be an x-man overnight, and worries about him to the professor, wanting the boy not to slip through the cracks, figuratively, and not to feel like an outcast.. especaily here. But Hank dosen’t feel blue for long, metaphorically he was blue long before he became the lion minus the witch and the wardrobe, as he has a date to night.. and so does Charles.

Or rather he did.. his girlfriend trish, a long time love intrest of his and a reporter.. breaks up with him. Over voice mail. While in washington. And the reasons she gives are not great

Yes Hank’s transformation is radical.. but not only was it not his choice... she’s being a coward, sending the message it’s okay to dump someone because hteir a mutant or because they happen tobe diffrent and that efffects your career. Again it’s moments like this that make the run soar over the more awkward bits.

Meanwhile Logan’s off doing logan stuff, i.e. gazing at a deer. Wow. Jean followed him. Both notice a space ship: Despite recently outing himself as a mutant, leading to an increased number of students and a bunch of rioting morons at the gates, Charles has decided NOW’S a good time to take a vacation to the Shiar empire. As for why Jean’s really out here, her marriage to Scott isn’t doing so good and while Logan encourages her to stay it’s just not that simple: Her telekenisis is coming back, stronger than ever. She feels the most alive she’s been while he’s shutting her out and feeling his deadest. She tries to turn to logan for comfort but he shuts her down. Just wait two decades jean... he’ll open up to a threesome. In all seriousness though having Jean try and come onto Logan .. will backfire slightly on later storylines. But we’ll get to that eventually.

In the basement Hank is studying Cassandra or rather a virtual version of her since her body is naturally in storage. And he’s found out something disturbing: She’s Charles Genetic Twin.. oh and it gets way worse. The Professor’s weird behavior? Barely staffing the hong kong office, leaving suddenly with rioters t the gates, outing himself? About that...

Cassandra tourtures Hank with the possiblity he’s devovling and then tries to mind controlli him into cleaning himself with his diploma when Beak enters. The good news is this allows hank to shake off her control and tackle her, showing off why hank mccoy is fucking awesome in the process.

That is the Hank McCoy I know, love.. and miss dearly. The one we’ll probably never get back sadly after what others did and what Percy’s had to do to reconclie with all they did.

Unfortunately beak being around means cassandra can force him to beat beast into a coma with his bat. She plans to tear Charles dream down around him and make him watch.. and cryptically says he tried to kill her. She then cheerfully leaves Jean in charge.. and talks about just how much damage one could do with an entire interstellar empire in the wrong hands....

This issue is also excellent and sets up the next two arcs nicely while giving us a nice peak in hank’s head. Great stuff. The artist also hid the word sex in a lot of the images see if you can find them.

Germ Free Generation Issue 1:

So now we get into our main story for today. This story and the one before it were drawn by Ethan Van Sciver whose a talented artist.. but also highly contrversial for being a conservative. I myself.. don’t know what he’s said or did, though calling himself “Canceld Superstar’ on twitter really isn’t a good sign. So I really can’t comment on it but I also know someone would mention it if I didn’t bring it up and if you know what he did please enlighten me.

So we open with a school shooter who also scooped out a guys eyes and is part of the U-Men. He get shot by the swat team while making his speech> it’s an effective opening but one that’s become more uncomfortable to read with each passing day due to school shootings going up and up in number. And mass shootings in general and I... I need a second. I need something to relax me

Thank you Stoopy. Your doing Odd’s Work.

So the news reports on this and we soon see how Jean watches the news.. by using Cerebra to read the minds of every person on the planet. Neat. Everyone’s talking about them. We also get a hint for later as we hear on the suicide of one martha johanson who wrote the note in her own blood. She’ll be important later.... and I mean that both in the context of this retrospective and for the fact she’ll go on to be part of x-men in perpetuity.

This is also where another great concept of Morrison’s pops up: Mutant culture. After all mutants are a minority, they should have their own culture. It’s something Hickman’s era has taken and ran with, but it’s a damn good idea and one that it shoudln’t of taken almost 20 years for someone else to use given Decimation was undone way back around 2012 in Avengers Vs X-Men, aka that event half hte articles on the mcu around the fox sale used as either their image for the article or asked about happneing. And yes that is a pet peeve of mine: while I do think like Civil War AVX could use a movie version to make it better, I don’t think it’s an event that could be done right away and would have to be almost entirely redone anyway given the context for AvX is entirely couched in decimation i.e. something NO ONE wants in any x-adaptation.

So it turns out while watching the news in a next level way Jean is also talking to Logan. “Stay out of my personal fantasies”. Yeah I .. I don’t think your ready for a hairy canadian dry humping a transformer.. specifically killbison. And yes.. that is an actual transformer and why yes, I have been waiting to bring him up.

And he is , and I am not making any of this up, part of a group of decpticons known as the breastforce. Your life is better for knowing that and you are welcome.

Anyway as you’d imagine a genocidal old woman in her brothers’ body leaving the X-Men to fend for themselves after having a teenager bludgeon one into a coma after publicly outing them with a rabid bunch of bigoted morons at the gates has not gone great. Henry is still out and despite the short staffing Jean needs logan to stay where he is as he’s close to an emerging mutant and within range to go get her.

Emma of course has never been so fucking irate in her whole life and is plotting various forms of psychic tourture with the help of her proteges the Stepford Cucokoo, 5 teenage mutants who functoin best as a unit and are easily some of MOrrison’s most prominent additions to the x-cast. Unlike a lot of the x-kids, they’ve been featured prominently in every era of x-men after this including the current one.

Jean decides for a less “Make them hate us even more” approach, but no less pissed off, opening the gates and going out directly to chew out the assembled bigoted morons, pointing out the ones carrying “Mutants Go Home!” signs are especailly dumb as this IS her home. And while she dosen’t point this part out, it’ the same for all of them: most of the mutants are either adults who choose to live here, teenagers who along with their parents choose to live here, or in the majority teens who have no where else to go due to either being abandoned by their families or it being way to dangerous for said families for them to stay due to bigoted assholes like the ones holding mutants go home signs.

A member of the press asks if she’s willing to talk to the media and she refutes most of his bullshit allegations: He asks if their building an army, she and Scott respond they are not and are simply educating mutants and protecting them. When he counters with the fact their living weapons and wearing uniforms... she counters with the fact she’s wearing them to protect herself, rightfully, from people like her, and the x-men are an aid orginzation going where needed to protect the world and while asshole points out no one apointed them.. jean shuts him down by pointing out there are no mutants in goverment and a genocide just happened, so someone has to do the job. Another random asshole tries to pipe up with “Genosha declared war on us” and Emma senses this is just going to go round and round and round and simply presses the assembled mob’s “bliss buttons” in their brains to knock them out. Non violent but honestly warranted: A dangerous part of bigoted assholes is they’l bring up racist bullshit to try and couch it like an actual conversation. None of these complaints really hold water if you looked at the x-men’s history for more than 5 minutes. Yes Charles is training them to fight and yes hte ingial class was an army but every class since has only been trained for self defense: they still got into adventures and what not, but it was usually by their own choice or because they were thrust into them by circumstance. Xaviers is exactly what jean said and endudgling these morons, while good on paper, only makes them seem legit.

Jean retreats to the infirmary where she’s on the verge of breaking down from the sheer weight of everything. Cyclops proves that despite not being the best husband right now... he still loves his wife, offering to go look into Sublime with Emma and hoping Hank wakes up. Turns out his mind for now is a big blank room.

So she can’t get any info off his skull, and neither of the two think what happened with Beak adds up. Something is up here. Their also coming down with colds which will be important later. And just as important.. Magneto is becoming a symbol among people and merch sales with his image are on the rise. We then get this.

So Jean is trying to be a supportive, honest wife, and while the questions incredibly insulting.. his answer is equally so. Spoilers, as mentioned we do get an answer long after this.. and they did not. So Jean is wrong to be suspcious, at this point, but is at least trying to be polite about it and gave him the benifit of the doubt.. and Scott basically said he slept with her without actually saying it despite not having to. You could’ve said “no we did not have sex, we simply talked all night”. It’s not ENTIRELY better given the horrible state of their relationship right now, but it’s still better than HEAVILY implying he rocked her body to the break of dawn for no damn reason.

So we meet our next major addition to the cast Angel Salvador, an abused teen who is a mutant.. and whose abusive and molesting step dad beats her and throws her out over this. The scene’s a bit overdone, coming off like an after school special.. but it’s what happens AFTER that’s truly heartwrenching.

A poor scared teenager clutching herself, finding herself homeless alone and desperatly wishing she wasn’t what she was. It’s just a striking image and shows how well Grant uses the mutant metaphor. I could easily see myself in that position had my parents not been good peopl and had I come out far sooner as bi. The idea of desperatly hoping your not what you are simply becaus eof what hell it brings, despite all the joy it can bring too. . it’s heartbreaking to hear.

Naturally though things don’t get much better as the next morning the U-Men have found her, calling her a freak and successfully kidnapping her.. if only because while she uses acid spit to escape, she flies into a power line.

We then get Sublimes meeting with Emma and Scott and a BETTER use of teh u-men as while Grant made the horrible mistake of calling them “transpecies”, seriously what the fuck were you thinking, the way sublime frames it here is a MUCH better, much less accidently bigoted concept.

The idea isn’t bad: A group of humans jealous of the mutants powers, blatantly ignoring the horrible downsides and mountain of persecution that comes with being one. Grant just made the mistake of couching in in Trans metaphors, clearly trying to have the U-Men steal from Trans People too as a way to make themselves seem legit. And I say if you want superpowers.. fine.. wanting to be a superhero or a mutant is fine, the issue with the U-Men is their copoting a culture, trying to be part of mutantkind without having any of the drawbacks and by actively butchering them. It’s why the concept HAS shown up elsewhere; it’s not TERRIBLE, Grant just made a bad creative choice that’s only gotten worse as Transphobia has ramped up further and further.

Sublime denies it when our heroes bring up Hong Kong.. but naturally he’s simply just keeping them talking long enough to bring out his trump cards, an army of u-men and a brain in a jar he uses to incapacitate them.. and announces his plan to use the school as an organ farm for his third species.

Meanwhile Logan finds the U-Men in their truck preparing to rip angel apart.. and given he snikit’s soon after.. i’ts very clear whose REALLY about to get ripped apart.

Germ Free Generation Part 2:

Part two begins wth Sublime monologoging about how Mutantkind are just cattle to them and reveals the brain is martha’s, her sucicide having been faked and her brain currently being controlled to use as a weapon.

So while Johnny monlogues we find out what happened with Wolverine last issue he didn’t cut up the guys yet as they fired their little flichete guns at him... it was about as useful and effective as you’d expect and the massacre you were expecting occurs. Though in a nice bit of reality the fact wolverine’s soaked in blood and just killed a bunch of blood shockingly does not make the already frighttend teen feel he’s safe and she spits acid on him. Logan pours some stuff on the acid, figuring rightly a black ops murder farmacy would have something to counteract it and tells her she’s safe now .. and tells the guy behind him not to try it. He’s stupid and does anyway and likely gets a claw to the head off panel.

They go to a diner to eat and find a local asshole who threatens them with a shot gun to leave once angel uses her power to digest and goes on a rant about how he snapped his own son’s neck to prevent him being born a freak. Just.. fucking hell this arc is not good for my depression. We get some more angst from Angel and whiel her dialouge is not the best, i’ts a too bit mark millar flavored edgelordy for my taste and if I wanted that i’d go read Ultimates or Ultimate X-Me, her pain is real and Logan helps her through it.

Back at the Mansion the U-Men are on their way to strike, whlie Jean unaware continues to buckle under the weight of all the shit she’s had to deal with, feeling SOMETHING is making them weak with the colds and something worse is going on and thus tries going to Beak’s mind instead and gently helps talk him through it, showing her grace and empathy.. and in return finding out Charles was the one responsible. The alarms flair up and Jean tries calling the police now that’s an option.. but it goes exactly how you’d expect.

Also a second artist took over for this issue and the next Igor Kordey. He’s fine, but not nearly as good as Quitely or Van Sciver and it shows. Meanwhile Beast awakens and heads for the body drawer with Cassandra’s body, and professor’s mind in it.

However Jean’s finally had enough and got her second wind. She’s outgunned, outmanned and left to her own devices. And she’s fucking fed up with it. She steels herself and assembles the students. This is obviously a last resort.. but some of them can defend themselves and their going to need to. But today they won’t be learning.. they’ll be teaching and as the U-Men call them defensless Jeans simply asks “Are you sure about that?”

Germ Free Generation Part 3:

So we come to the finale of this arc. Angel is once again an ungreatful brat to logan and he opts to just leave her there if sh’es going to be like that pointing out being a mutant sucks, it’s going to keep sucking.. and she needs to deal with it instead of lashing out at him and herself over it.

We get back to the U-Men, one of whom is utterly flabergasted they want to him to cut of Cyclops head... only for Emma to awaken.. and take back her regular form meaning she has her telepathy back. The only reason they were able to get her ealier is she was in diamond mode which is stronger but lacks that, a nice way to check and ballance her new powers. She quickly takes them out and disables Martha.

Back at the school we get one of Jean’s definting moments for me and a true chance to show how badass she can be. Before this while Morrison wrote her well, and his version’s still my favoirite, she didn’t really get to do much and was motly in the background. This arc has been her time in the limelight, having trouble grappling with all the stress of running this place by herself.. and emerging from it stronger, more capable and ready to kick some racist weirdo ass. She tries a few diffrent tactics first, having a mutant with a voice power project it to make them think their san invisible army and having the cuckoos fuck with their heads but when both fail, Jean REALLY gets to show off. Thier blade ammo gets turned into a cool looking 3 dimensioinal shape with her telekneisis, and in a cool moment and a wise use of something gross makes the only one of them with useable powers throw up, before issuing a badass boast, wreathed in flames all while she crumples their guns into uselessness. and tears open their suits.

Bad ass.. and logan and Angel arrive just in time for the cecendo as hte u-men flee in terror

The Phoenix has been Reborn. Jean Grey has risen from the ashes and returned to full power.

Meanwhile Sublime is pankcing.. and it gets worse when Emma shows up, fully enraged after all of this and has some words for him.

Iconic. Emma prepares to drop him out of a building but Scott rightly tries to get her to back off, pointing out the pr nightmare it’d create and the fact that they have enough evidence ot shut him down. Martha however has other ideas and gets him to let go of his own accord, falling to his death.. but given he’d aranged a stunt for the press apparently this gives our heroes deniability and Martha her revenge.

So we end this three parter as Jean revels in her new power, and Beast returns with an announcment:

Final Thoughts for Germ Free Generation: This arc is pretty good if forgetable. The struggle of Jean to run the school herself and her rising from the ashes of her own pain at the end with the power of the phoenix at the end is fantastic, finally both giving her a chance to shine.. and a worrying sign for her friends given what her phoenix force copy whose memories she has a copy of, long story, did is awesome. The other parts are okay and ehhhhhhhhh though. Scott and Emma’s investigation into the u-men while having a really good climax, is pretty standard x-men stuff, and Wolverin’es trek with angel is just okay with Angel being highly intolerable during this arc, with Morrison trying a bit TOO hard to make her a “realistic” teen instead coming off as horribly unplesant. She’s supposed to just be lashing out but comes off obnxious as a result. That said this arc does furhter a lot of Morrisons best idea and introduce more, and is a great setup for our next arc, which we’ll get to in two weeks. Soooo

Next Time On X-Men: We find out just what the hell Cassandra Nova is, what her plans are, and what happened with her and charles as our heroes come down with a cold as the might of the shiar empire bears down on them. It’s IMperial in two weeks.

Next Time ON This BLog: Speaking of long Delayed Projects, I finally return to The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck as a young Scrooge starts his prospecting career, learning the ins and outs from a rich new mentor, and finding the price tag striking it rich comes with. Raid a copper hill with me tommorow.

If you liked this review, subscirbe for more, join my patreon, and if there’s a comic you’d like me to cover suggest it in the comments or outright comission a review from me via ask. See you at the next rainbow

#new x-men #grant morrison #cassandra nova #shen xorn #beast #hank mccoy #jean grey #cyclops #scott summers #wolverine #logan howlett #angel salvadore #beak #barnell bohsk #the stepford cuckoos #the u-men #john sublime #marthan johanson #ethan van sciver

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archived-gtronpa-account · 4 years ago

Note

If I may request tiny!chihiro please, I'm really stressed and he's my comfort character🥺💚

You have good taste in characters ❤️❤️

Also I tried to make it fluffzy for you?? But I think…I…failed…my brain isn't wired to think fluff so I don't know if this turned out well but I hope it'll help you a little through the stress dearest!

____

Word count: 1400

Summary: Another casual day in the life of lil' Chihiro and his big cool biker friend, Mondo.

Squick warning for some cussing.

____

Hook and rope in hand, Chihiro was perched on top of a shelf, eyes fixed on the door below like a predator waiting for it's prey. Somewhere further, a clock ticked off. Only to be patient for a few more minutes, and his trap would finally unfold.

The door swung open, and he sprang into action. With practiced ease, Chihiro jumped off and slid down the rope at a near hand-burning speed, landing far down below on an unsuspecting pompadour.

"Mondo!"

His shout went unheard among a string of curses and screeching. Maybe a surprise tackle attack wasn't the best way to greet his friend. Oops.

"Fuck! Ch-Chihiro?" A hand came up and near him, feeling down on the hair platform for his small form. Chihiro giggled and carefully reached out to high-five the finger closest to him. There was a sigh below, and the hand wrapped around him in a loose fist. After a painfully slow descent, he met Mondo's pale, frowning face.

"Chihiro, you scared the living hell out of me." The frown on his face loosened, and his free hand went up to rub the back of his neck.

"Sorry, sorry. I just wanted to surprise you, ah," he trailed off with an awkward laugh. Mondo's shoulders dropped, and he heaved a sigh.

The short exchange had Chihiro distracted enough that he didn't realize they had moved into the kitchen until he was lowered on a table. The hand around him loosened, and he jumped off to the wooden surface, only staggering a bit before he regained his footing.

Mondo moved to grab something from a cupboard, facing away from him. Eager to start a conversation, Chihiro asked, "So, how was school?"

"Total shit," he briefly glanced over his shoulder to the tiny beaming person, "Yukizome went after us one by one to get us attending class. That woman's batshit crazy." His voice rose a notch at end in anger. The tone sparked worry in the smaller boy, but he quickly brushes it off. Mondo was quick to get heated, but quicker to cool down.

"I don't know about that. I think it's nice that your teacher is looking out for you like this." Mondo came and plopped down on a chair. He stared down at Chihiro and Chihiro stared up at him, large smile still adorning his soft face and still rocking on his heels. For the few odd seconds of silence that stretched between them, Chihiro wondered what was going on with the other, what the unusual thoughtful expression on his face was hiding. But it was only a couple seconds later that he answered, "Ok, fuck, I guess it's cool that she'd put that effort in it."

Mondo handed him out a cookie, and when the tiny boy took the treat and placed it on his lap, the hand remained close by, cupped behind his back. Nibbling on the treat as he listened to stories of hope's peak and the crazy diamonds and huddled closer to the warmth, Chihiro absently noted that if there was something going on with him, Mondo didn't mention it or seem keen on talking about it. Usually, he wouldn't hesitate to share his thoughts with his smaller friend, but it also wasn't that unusual for him to brush it off and stay quiet about it. In that case, all Chihiro could do was to listen closely and distract him with stories of his own little adventure and neat programming tricks he'd learned recently.

Their idle chat was cut off by someone else coming in. Chihiro was quick on his feet and ready to hide, but as he looked wildly around, he realized with cold dread that there was nowhere close enough for him to hide fast, and footsteps came closer and Taka's face came in his view and his red eyes looked his way—

It took a second for Chihiro to come out of his daze and process the darkness and warmth surrounding him. A hand shot to his mouth and he muffled the gasp that escaped his lips. His free hand felt around, and only when he properly took in that the hand surrounding him was Mondo's did his heart start to beat again. It pounded and threatend to burst out of his ribcage and it was the only sound roaring in his ears, but it gradually settled back down to a slower pace.

Words filtered in from beyond the flesh dome. "…Fuck's sake, I'm coming. No need to rush," the anger in Mondo's voice poorly hid an undertone of nervousness.

"R-Right. Sorry if I'm… interrupting something?" Right. That was Taka, Chihiro processed. He sounded taken aback, maybe a little lost. The tiny boy curled in on himself at the voice, making himself so small he could disappear. Taka, despite being handpicked by the government as quite literally the best boy of Japan, still somehow sounded more intimidating than Mondo with that voice and behaviour of his.

Chihiro inched closer to the cage of trunk-sized fingers and pushed two appart with all his strength, enough for him to peek out to the scene going on.

"… been waiting…" The conversation outside went on, but the words turned to a deafening ringing in his ears when the boy saw the object being fiddled with in the human's hands. A hook and a rope. The hook and rope he'd used only an hour ago and left up on a shelf hanging for any human to find. And of any human, it had to be to be Taka— it was Chihiro's fault though, he was the one who's been too reckless to hold back from his stupid stunt, and too careless to gather his equipment back, and it was in Taka's hand and his vision blurred and Taka was looking at him—

He gasped, that time too loud, and jumped so far back he hit the hand over him hard enough to make it jolt with surprise. Taka must've seen him, must've heard him. There was no way he hadn't, there was no way he didn't know. He brought a hand up to brush over his cheeks, wet and warm. Then the darkness around him vanished and left room for light to pour in, and Chihiro's eyes darted around the room for any threat, but when he didn't catch sight of any figure in a white uniform and piercing red eyes, he let his eyes settle on Mondo's worried face looming overhead.

"Fucking- Chihiro, I'm sorry-" the boy in question hastily wiped his wet face with his sleeve and cut off.

"I'm sorry, I-I know, I'll tell him someday. I'm sorry, I just- I'll tell Taka someday, and you won't have to worry about me anymore." He hated the look of worry given to him, hated being seen as weak, hated feeling weak. That hatred wrapped around his mind and pushed his weakness and fear far back in a dark corner. He stood up straight, looked up at the giant boy in the eyes, and assured himself that he could be strong like him, "Nothing is your fault. I just panicked a little, but I'm fine now."

Mondo didn't answer right away. He weighed his next words, then finally, he settled for, " Still sorry for making you cry though. Taka came in and I kinda just freaked out since you gotta hide and all." He brought a hand to awkwardly rub the back of his neck, and Chihiro stared up at him, taken aback. Did he think— the problem was— maybe he hadn't seen the rope in Taka's hands.

"Ah, it's nothing, really!" He quickly assured, "I'm fine, that's not why I got scared- but really, I'm fine now." But Mondo still didn't entirely convinced.

"Still, I'll make it up to you. Wanna go for a ride tonight?" For a second, Chihiro thought he'd dreamed the words. The wind in his face, the dark streets illuminated with neons and streetlights and the busy night life, the rush of adrenaline pumping in his veins. A late night ride? His heart jolted with a sudden burst of joy.

"I'd love to!"

#danganronpa #dr1 #gtronpa #gt #writing #ask #request #chihiro fujisaki #mondo oowada #tiny! Chihiro #giant! mondo

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soft-sunflower · 4 years ago

Text

Flower of Evil Thoughts- Episode 12: Part 1

Okay, just when I think these episodes can't get any better than the last, I get CONTINUOUSLY proven wrong! How is this show SO amazing!? Okay, let's start with the recap and my thoughts.

WOW this episode really started off with a bang, didn't it?? I was floored how crazy unmother found out the real Heeseong, her real son, was a serial killer. I was legit creeped out by the fact that he kept commemorative photos of his kidnappings and killings, but what really fucked me up was the fact that he kept their fingernails. So NOW we know where the other sets of fingernails went... I guess Do Minseok kept the ones on the right hands and Heeseong kept the ones on the left hand. Just ughhh ewwww. This is seriously so disgusting. That really grossed me out. So, was unmother going to commit suicide? She held a blade to her wrist and then she looks out the window, and what does she see?? Heeseong... trying to bury a body in the rain. I mean what even??? This whole family has upped the evil factor. If there's any flower of evil blossoming? It's the Baek family.

And who's body is it!? None other than Do Hyunsoo! The man he just hit with his car! I mean REALLY!? He was going to legit BURY Hyunsoo alive??? This guy is the psychopath, this guy is the batshit crazy one, this guy is the serial killer. NOT Hyunsoo. It's kinda funny, I was talking to my husband and I said. "Well, the synopsis sorta got it right. Heeseong is definitely a serial killer, only it's the REAL Heeseong and not the fake Heeseong, which is Hyunsoo." We both were like "Yep. Heeseong IS a serial killer and did it right along with Do Minseok." Funny, that.

He’s so casual like “Oh don’t mind me. Just gonna bury this man I hit with my car alive. Go back inside.” So, ole Mommie Dearest over here goes all feral on her serial killer son and straight up stabs his ass declaring she’s scared of him. You know what, lady? I am too. He’s kinda terrifying. I swear if you gave that boy an axe and told him to go chop wood, he'd turn it around and do a Lizzie Borden on your ass. This family as a whole is a complete whack job.

Oooookay so we're back in the present now, and what do we have here??? Heeseong. Sitting up in his chair and guess what he's doing. SPEAKING. NORMALLY. None of that "I just got out of a coma and I'm slow" speech he'd been doing since last week. Yeeeeah I knew his bullshit he was pulling was a whole-ass act. Okay, so last week, when I saw the preview at the end of Ep 11 and they were all screaming about finding a buried body? I had a theory that it was going to be the maid's body they find, considering the way the crazy mother was freaking at out her wanting to know what all she knew. Now you have Heeseong being threatening with this lady. I'm getting death flags everywhere for her.

Oh look... creepy hospital trash dad is deep the blood cleaning Heeseong's car, phone rings and there we got trafficker man, Yeom Sangchul. Soooo, Heeseong owed him money and dad paid him off to cover his son's ass??? DUDE. What is WRONG with this family!? What is WRONG with these people!? They're legit messed tf up! And can they STOP trying to "take care of" Hyunsoo already?? The constant putting out a hit on him is getting frustrating. "Either Hyunsoo lives or we do." UM. You both are TWISTED old FUCKS who don't deserve life after all the crap you've pulled. Hyunsoo deserves life. He's more human than all of you. You don't, if that's how it's going to be. I'd love to watch them rot in prison.

YAY!!! There's our couple!!! Coming out of Hyunsoo's shop looking like a legit BADASS power couple!!! YASSSSSSSSS!!! And... what's this??? What?? Detective Choi wants a cup of coffee??? Weird... it almost seemed as if Jiwon WAS expecting some kind of Swat team out there to arrest her husband. Jiwon looks confused on what's happening, Hyunsoo is just quietly accepting it all. And when they go inside and Sunbae almost appears, reluctant and hesitant. He even thanks Hyunsoo for being the informant, which I did NOT expect. I knew there was a reason why I liked him from the start. He's redeeming himself.

Haesoo is really stunned over the fact that Jiwon knows the truth about Hyunsoo and who he is. And of course she's in a panic because she believes her brother left and so now would be the perfect time to turn herself in. Moojin tries his hardest to stop her, because obviousy he doesn't want to see her go to jail, but he's gotta stop being so pushy...

Sunbae has a great personality, but when he starts questioning Hyunsoo over the murder he doesn't waver. Hyunsoo straight up tells him he had no motive for murdering the village head, unlike Jiwon who's crying out that he didn't do it. That's right. Because he DID NOT. The look that the husband and wife give each other, Jiwon just looks stricken by the fact that after what they went through last night, Hyunsoo still won't tell the truth. That he was not the one who murdered the village head. Hyunsoo just looks at his wife calmly. His expression is unreadable. He may have just been silently pleading with her to please respect his wishes. This is what he wants. He doesn't want this for his sister.

Oh, Noona... not only was Hyunsoo's past so incredibly traumatic for him, but it was for you too. You've been deeply affected by this because of your overwhelming love for your brother and it's precious. It really is. It's heartbreaking watching him get thrown into repeated exorcisms at such a young age for something that was never even wrong with him. ALL of the adults in his life FAILED HIM. His father, the therapist, the villagers, and even his only friend along with his pack of cronies. They BRAINWASHED him into believing he was a bad person just like his father was, and it's HEARTBREAKING. It's so utterly HEARTBREAKING. I LOVE how strong-willed Noona delcaring she doesn't feel sorry for killing the old bastard who put this poor child through all of this.

They threw things at him, beat him, hurt him... And when they cut to Hyunsoo after being beaten, he just looks dead inside... it's so devastating knowing that they forced him into believing he was being possessed by his father's ghost, to the point that he saw his father's ghost. Now, maybe he really DID see his ghost, but the fact that he was so brainwashed into believing these things? My heart literally ACHES for Hyunsoo... Noona is right. Moojin is NO better. He turned his back on Hyunsoo when he needed him most. Tied him a tree, beat the crap out of him, stoned him. And every single person in that town FAILED Hyunsoo. Hyunsoo was the only real HUMAN out of all of them. And that is SO DEVASTATINGLY HEARTBREAKING. Because he was so unjustly and unfairly FAILED by people he needed most, EXCEPT for Noona.

Okay, Sunbae knows something is going on. He knows that Hyunsoo claiming he killed the old man and how easily the weapon was found was just TOO convenient. He knows. NOW, I'm DYING to know who this one another witness was that said Hyunsoo wasn't a bad person? Was it Noona? Was it someone else? Because every single person in that village ostracized him, that we know of, asides from Haesoo. So what gives??? I want to know who it was... I'm just gonna place a bet that it was Haesoo who had her brother's back because she was the only one who ever did.

Oh.. oh Sunbae... you are 100% and fully fledged redeemed. REDEEMED. Don't imprison an INNOCENT man!!! I think he KNOWS Hyunsoo is innocent, and the look on Hyunsoo's face... he knows the Hyunsoo and Haesoo's childhood tragedy. My heart just twisted. Sunbae. T_T Sorry, but the fact that Sunbae is letting him go, simply by saying he isn't interested in Do Hyunsoo anymore, and that Do Hyunsoo is a good person... I swear I had tears in my eyes because of the hope in theirs!!! I was smiling and had tears in my eyes just like Jiwon because FINALLY!!! He can live his life, he can be with his family, he can love his wife openly and happily, he can raise his daughter with no fear, and... wait, hold up... it's too damn happy. Way too happy. Something bad is going to happen... I can feel it. Yep. Something is coming to literally fuck up their happiness and it's stressful. It really is.

OH GOD this SCENE. This next scene!!! I cried during this scene. I found myself sobbing because of the pure innocence of this scene alone. Our precious baby girl, Eunha!!! She's back!! And she's running and crying in his father's arms... You can already see the emotion on his face as he stoops down for his baby, and he's crying too... It's like years upon years of all these emotions that were built up and hidden behind iron walls are spilling out of him now that the floodgates have burst. Like he just can't help itself, and it's a beautiful thing. It's so good for him, it's cathartic and just what he's needed for so so long. All the years he spent locked behind that wall, believing he was something he wasn't, it's all been set free. He can FEEL. And he show what he's feeling without being told otherwise. He's free to love.

"Daddy! I missed you so so so much!!"

Oh, little sweetie, he did too. He really did. So very much. All the years he's spent watching you grow and raising you, all of those memories and feelings for you, you precious little angel, are welling up inside of him and bursting out of him, on top of the fact that he doesn't have to say goodbye to his baby girl simply due to the fact that he's Do Hyunsoo. That's why he's crying. From the day she was born, to each one of her milestones and young triumphs throughout her life are so important because he sees it all so differently now. When Jiwon't mother says "She acts like they've been separated for years" and Jiwon remains quiet? Because in a sense, they have. Sure, he's seen Eunha almost every single day of her life, but he hasn't really SEEN her til now because he had a heavy, dark veil covering the eyes of his heart.

He's seeing Eunha for the first time and feeling her with his heart, and i find that so overwhelmingly beautiful. Jiwon assures her mother that it's nothing when she worriedly asks what's wrong, that she's never seen him like this before. And Jiwon just tearfully smiles so gently and so softly at her precious family while they cry and embrace because she loves them so much. It's sweet how Jiwon's mother is concerned for them though lol. I wonder if she'll find out...? And how ADORABLE was it when Eunha told her daddy not to cry again because he misses her? She's such a precious little angel and such a good little girl. His kiss on her forehead was the sweetest thing too. What REALLY made me melt in tears was the fact that Hyunsoo says:

"Eunha-ya, daddy loves you a lot."

And Eunha's arm heart... just... GOSH. T____T And even though she tells her daddy not to cry, you can see him tearing up again as he waves bye bye to his little girl off to preschool. It's so beautiful and refreshing to see him finally finding his emotions and finding his feelings and expressing them so honestly. And his little kiss on her forehead. Just end me. I can’t get over how precious the moments these two share truly are. It’s beautiful. ♥

Wooooowwww, so Jiwon was planning on quitting her job as a police officer??? But here we have Sunbae trying to encourage her to seriously think about this decision, because he's right. Giving up a job like that could have a huge affect on her entire life. And to get to work and work like crazy because they're mad busy lol. Ah, Sunbae.

And I just can't get over Hyunsoo and Jiwon's love. I really can't. I love how holds her hand and strokes it gently with his thumb. She asks "What were you thinking about in front of the store earlier?" And BAM! I was right! He was remembering the very first time he ever held Eunha. I'm sure he probably wanted to cry the first time he held her because his heart was likely overwhelmed with all sorts of feelings, but he didn't know how and he couldn't figure them out. And then he says when he met Jiwon, every single moment of his life was filled with first times and I just... I can't... Jiwon has been the most beautiful, welcoming, warming and positive force in his life. If it weren't for her, he may not have ever began his healing process from years upon years of trauma. I love the focus on their hands. I really do. Almost like he didn't want to let her go back to work, and even asking her if she'll be alright. Hyunsoo, you are such a wonderful husband to her. Goodness.

I do love how when Jiwon entered her workroom and the police chief snapped at her, Sunbae was quick to step up with the continued story of Eunha was sick and he sent her home, so she's not been made aware of the situation, which is half-true. Jiwon had NO idea that Yeom Sangchul busted loose and is on the run. Now, here's something interesting...

"How's your kid? Who's sick? Your first or second?"

WAIT... now why are they making it a point to show that Jiwon only has one child right now??? Is there... is that foreshadowing?? Could there maybe be a chance that Eunha might get a brother or sister in the future??? Or is that just my wishful thinking and overthinking it because the police chief just doesn't know enough about her as a person and that's what they're showing us? Hmmm... Well, here's hoping we get that happy ending with Jiwon pregnant and them having a new baby! *fingers crossed* lol Sorry. Just some Hyunsoo/Jiwon fanwishes. Anyway... I got a good chuckle out of the chief trying to cover his ass by passing out energy drink packets and of course Sunbae being his hilariously greedy self with wanting two and talking about the chief being cheap HAH! I laughed. And then Sunbae gets a call from Hyunsoo... WHAT!? What is going on now??? Wanting to talk where Jiwon can't hear?

So, Hyunsoo is still sitting at the front gate in his car and he's thinking back to something Yeom Sangchul said. "Think hard about it. Whom did you tell this secret to? Who do you think ratted you out to me?" Ooooo, I think Hyunsoo's onto something, though. I get why he doesn't want Jiwon to know, but hasn't he learned his lesson yet? Honey, things go south when you keep secrets from your wife. She's also a police officer. You do realize that, right? And she's a badass one at that. I get you're protecting her from knowing that someone is out to get you, but you gotta tread carefully love... you don't want to break trust between the two of you. You need her trust now more than anything.

Oh look, there's human trafficking trash man eating and the equal trash son laying in bed watching the news on his tablet. And her comes trash mom. Is he really still going to continue pulling off that whole fake slow talk "I just got out of a coma. Feel pity for me" crap? Please. We know he can speak just fine considering he did it earlier with the housemaid. Can he spare me the innocence? And why does he still seem to have himself convinced that Hyunsoo is going to kill him?? Hell, if anything, Hyunsoo will just want to help catch his ass and have him thrown in prison for the disgusting stuff Do Minseok did with him.

So, Moojin is going to play the noble idiot again once more for Haesoo by looking for Hyunsoo? Well, you don't gotta look too far, bro. He's a lot closer than you think. Also, the more I think about it, the more I'm with Moojin. Not because my heart is shriveling over him telling Noona to stop saying she'll turn herself in, but I agree. Sunbae let Hyunsoo go saying he has no interest in him anymore. If Noona goes to the police station now and outright admits to killing the village head all those years ago, there's also a chance that they'll all find out that Jiwon's husband is Do Hyunsoo. Sunbae might be willing to overlook that fact, but that doesn't mean the others will.

Side note, but Moojin, why do you think you deserve a SHRED of care from Haesoo after the shit you've pulled? Sorry but that got on my nerves. Stop comparing yourself to Hyunsoo and your importance to Noona. Hyunsoo is her little BROTHER. He's family. There's a HUGE difference. Jeez, Moojin. Stop being so pushy and clingy. She doesn't WANT to go home. She WANTS to go to the police station. You have no right to tell the driver where to send her. Ugh he's so frustrating sometimes. I have such mixed feelings about him.

Alright, so Hyunsoo and Sunbae are at a cafe now talking about the fact that Hyunsoo has a pretty good idea of who's put a hit out on him. That he'll give Yeom Sangchul a shit ton of money to kill him. And it flashes back to trash dad trying to talk Hyunsoo into leaving if he gives him 10 times the amount. WHY can't these people just leave him alone?? For fuck sake. Hyunsoo states it's just an assumption, but we know he's not wrong and he won't tell Sunbae who thinks the person is til he can confirm it for himself with Sunbae's help. This treading into some very dangerous waters.

Moojin, good grief why do you keep bothering her? We're all well aware you like Haesoo, but she isn't interested in a relationship with you or anyone else. She's at the police station, and it's kind of sad because she believes that Moojin is all Hyunsoo has left. She shows up and just about outs herself when Jiwon smoothly covers it up by claiming she's here to identify the human trafficking victims since it's connected to her father's serial killings.

Okay, so... I LOVE this scene. I LOVE their discussion on the rooftop. It's excellent because it's just what Haesoo needs to hear, no matter how harsh Jiwon came across, it was necessary. Haesoo wastes no time in admitting that she knows Jiwon knows everything, and that Hyunsoo had a very justifiable reason for living as Baek Heeseong. I do love how protective she is over her brother, and yet again, she admits to Jiwon that she killed the village foreman and not Hyunsoo. Haesoo, no... she does not think her husband is a dangerous person because they just spent the night before talking about literally everything. Hyunsoo told her everything he could possibly think of. Jiwon loves him unconditionally. She does not think her husband dangerous for a moment.

"Haesoo, Hyunsoo is no longer a little boy that you need to look after. He's the father of my child. He's my family. He's my person. Now, he has a wife who will stand by his side... no matter what happens. He told me his sister is a very kind person. Whenever something bad happened when he was young, he was always the first to be suspected. He told me you always went around telling people he's innocent. He didn't care what other people thought, but you were always the one who cried and felt upset about it. Because you're so kind, he thought you wouldn't be able to endure other people's criticisms. That's why he took the blame. He didn't care what other people thought about him. If you turn yourself in, he'll no longer be a wanted criminal. But he'll feel guilty and indebted to you for the rest of his life. I don't want that. So... please respect your brother's decision. And... you should be the one to feel guilty instead."

"I'm horrible, aren't I?" No, Jiwon. You are not. I won't lie, your words were harsh, but they had to be said. This was totally necessary. They absolutely had to be, because Haesoo needed to understand and know the importance in all of this. She needed to know that her brother is not alone. That he has a loving wife and family to stay by his side. Jiwon tells her that what they talked about today is that if Haesoo recognized any of the victims in regards to her father's crimes and that is supposed to say no. Noona cries and thanks Jiwon for trusting Hyunsoo. Because it's what he needs. A wife to love him, trust him and help him. Haesoo tells Jiwon that while she's still alive, she'll do everything she can to repay her... while she's still alive?? Is anyone else getting possible death flags from Noona...? I'm worried. Really worried about her. Like it has me nervous. If something happens to her after everything Hyunsoo did for her... I just don't even want to think about it.

#flower of evil #lee joon gi #moon chae won #do hyun soo #cha ji won #baek eun ha #lee joongi #moon chaewon #lee junki #lee jun ki #do hyunsoo #cha jiwon #baek heeseong #jang heejin #flower of evil episode 12 thoughts

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darlinrogue · 4 years ago

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matthew found himself getting anxious at every all elite pay-per-view. but something about this specific revolution—— this specific main event had him more worried than usual ‘exploding barbed-wire death match’… it had problems written all over it. biting nail after nail, cuticle after cuticle. “since pac’s going after the tag titles, adam’s next in line for kenny” he heard tony khan say from the headset in guerilla. matt’s heart stopped, right then and there. he had to find adam.

Matt

A few hours before the show Adam had scoped out his vantage point. A seat in the back on the ground floor at Daily’s Place. High-up, but not too far away. Even better it was an empty section. After his match with Hardy, Adam changed into street clothes, crept-out from backstage, and took his seat. While the street fight with Darby and Sting played on the big screen, the ring crew set-up for the so called, “Exploding Barbed Wire Death Match.” The crew wore thick leather gloves. They maneuvered pieces of hardware, metal, and explosives to the floor. Bryce looked like the marshmallow man from Ghostbusters. It was, without a doubt, the most elaborate, inane match idea Adam had ever seen. He never delved into that Death match shit. An occasional no DQ with chairs and table settled Adam’s need for violence, but this was next level.

And it was the exact kinda bullshit that Kenny would come up with.

The construction of a wrestling ring had always fascinated Adam. In his teenage years he shadowed production crews to shows. From them he learned how to square a ring by measuring the diagonal, how to lay down the boards, roll out the pads, and lash down the mats. Then, tightening the ropes and tying in the turnbuckles. For the cheaper productions, duct tape repaired holes torn in the apron. All the little things he didn’t have to do anymore now that he was a ‘star.’ Part of Adam missed the days on the indies when he’d show-up a day early for set-up and leave late for tear down. Get to watch a show for free that way. Somehow, watching the AEW ring crew bind explosive barbed wire around the ropes didn’t make Adam feel very nostalgic, though. Instead something cold settled in the bottom of his stomach.

Adam had brought a beer out with him and he brought the bottle to his lips. He watched the pyro tech guys rig-up the explosives with lines of electric wire. The ring crew were filtering out. The fight on the screen was winding down. Adam glanced over though as someone approached on his right. Wedging himself between the seats and coming down the row was Matt Jackson. He’d changed back into a gray, AEW jacket, his hair twisted into a quick and dirty bun. All he had for Adam was a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He shoved his hands in his pockets and his throat bobbed, not meeting Adam’s gaze. Instead he focused on the dust laden concrete beneath his feet. Adam shifted in his seat, coming forward, elbows pressed into the arm rest. Matt chewed on his lip and then gestured at Adam’s hand.

“You okay?” He asked, thinly. “Matt worked you over good.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s fine,” Adam said. “Just sore.”

He looked down at his hand. An athletic trainer had wrapped it in bandages and popped him a couple ibuprofen. There was nothing broken, just some bruising and swelling. Adam’d have to get an X-ray sooner rather than later, though. After the match high ran down though it hurt like a mother. Matt and Adam stared at each other for a second, before Adam tilted his head to the side. An indication and invitation for Matt to sit. Matt sunk into the chair beside Adam, hands rubbing over his knees. His fingers pattered over his thighs and he shifted, exuding nervous energy. When he settled back into the chair it was like he was sitting back into the barbed wire in the ring.

“Congratulations, on beating the carny though,” Matt offered with a small laugh. “You guys had a good match. What are you going to do with the money?”

“Oh, yeah, uh, well I was thinking,” Adam began, he put his beer on the floor by his feet and leaned back. “I need a new lawnmower and there’s enough to pay off the mortgage— I don’t need much else so like, I told them to just, just to give the rest to some cause. Someone mentioned the public schools in Jacksonville? I liked that, so that’s kinda what we went with.”

“Seriously?” Matt breathed. “That’s amazing, Adam.”

“Fuck, I don’t want that money anyway, makes me feel dirty,” Adam admitted. He sucked on his cheek. “Chris and MJF didn’t beat you up too much did they? Ya’ll pulled it out, but it was kinda brutal to watch.”

“Oh, so you watched our match?” Matt noted. They looked at each other and something warm sparked in Adam’s chest. “Takes more than a baseball bat to keep me down. Besides that’s nothing compared to— to all this.”

Matt’s voice rasped as he flicked his finger towards the completed ring. Adam followed his gaze and got what he meant. It wasn’t the barbed wire or the explosives. It was the anticipation of seeing Kenny in the middle of that ring. Kenny, bloodied and burned and hurting, with his life on the line. There was a long, long list of shit that could go wrong. And Adam and Matt shared in common a worry wort gene. It was in their nature to look at a set-up like that, then let their minds run to all the terrifying possibilities. It was the inner instinct of ‘older brother’ in them. The shit going on Matt’s mind had already crossed Adam’s a half-dozen times.

Injury, pain, and even death, were the risks of their sport, everyone who stepped in the ring had comes to terms with their mortality. It wasn’t often though that Adam sat down for a match and was fully level with the idea that one of his oldest friends may actually die. It was a ‘holy shit’ moment, this was how far they’d come. Well over a year ago Adam remembered the way Kenny’s voice cracked over the phone when he talked about Mox. The desperate, twisted edge in his tone, jagged as broken glass. It was obsession rolled with a fragile mental health teetering over the abyss of fear, anxiety, and depression. All Adam had done was stand back and watch as Kenny was crowded to the cliff. Then, Adam witnessed the merciless hand shove Kenny over. And now, at the bottom, body and mind broken over the rocks, Kenny challenged Mox to an Exploding Barbed Wire Death Match. The entire Elite had hit rockbottom in the past six months at least once but none of them had involved explosives.

“Kenny’s gone off the fucking deep end, man” Adam observed, like he was commenting on the weather. He picked-up his beer from the floor and took a sip. “This is batshit. You let him do this?”

“It’s not like he asked us?!” Matt protested, his hands fluttered around him. “TK approved it and you know, it’s his show. Besides, it’s not exactly like Kenny is talking to us right now.”

Adam shifted in his seat. He and Kenny hadn’t been on speaking terms since October. A long run of almost six months as they awkwardly avoided each other in the hallways. Of course, Adam had his handful of ignored, attempted phone calls and double texts from back when the tag-team broke-up. He’d kept abreast of the Elite’s crazy drama and then felt quietly grateful he wasn’t apart of it. Forsaken doors, Barbed Wire Death Matches; literally everything to do with Don Callis, Impact, and the Good Brothers— no thanks. Adam got why he was out of the loop, though. Kenny getting sick of his shit and kicking him out of his life was inevitable as it was deserved— But, Kenny wasn’t talking to the Bucks either? That was a red flag. Shit, Adam shouldn’t be worried about Kenny, grown ass man that he was but—Adam took another sip from his beer and returned it to its spot by his feet. Yeah, he was kinda worried about Kenny.

“Why are you even out here?” Matt asked, an edge of accusation in his voice.

“Shit, I dunno, figured if my old tag-partner was gonna get blown-up I should at least be here to witness it?” Adam speculated, with a shrug. The buzzing crowd indicated the end of the Street Fight that Adam had been ignoring. Whispers of anticipation floated through the arena. “Maybe— I just got some shit on my mind. Trying to figure out what comes next.”

“You’re in the rankings,” Matt blurted-out. Adam glanced at Matt and met his eyes. His face was stricken in the stark lights and his throat bobbed. Music hit, Mox’s theme, moments before Adam could even think up an answer.

Mox wasn’t a bullet point on Adam’s list of relations. He was just a guy he occasionally saw backstage or in production meetings. They’d been in a ring once before. Adam kinda saw him as this hardened badass with a devil may care attitude. A weird, enigmatic guy with a prickly attitude and a hardened reputation. The flash of a silver flask, drawn from Mox’s inner jacket pocket, spoke to Adam though in a way few else in the arena would get. He understood the motivation behind the deep drink Mox indulged. If a guy like Jon Moxley needed alcohol to steady his nerves, then shit, it was really that bad. Kenny’s entrance then, was a nail in the coffin. He dressed subdued, in jeans and a shirt instead of elaborate gear. No bullshit spiel from Justin Roberts, just his music, and the belt. Adam worked his jaw and took some solace from his own beverage. Besides him, Matt shifted and squirmed, his thumb at his mouth gnawing on his already bitten down nail.

Before Ring of Honor shipped him off to Japan, Adam was never into Japanese wrestling. His library of matches included the DVR recordings of WWF matches, the local shit you could get on the TV, and eventually, the various indie shows across the South-East he attended. It was all catch wrestling, some technical shit, and whatever the Hardys were doing. Death matches, likewise, were a joke in the schools and shows he attended. “How many commas?” Was the refrain for what it’d take to get an average wrestler to do something as stupid as involve barbed wire in a match. Therefore, a Japanese, Exploding, Barbed Wire, Death Match, was completely out of Adam’s wheel house. He had no idea what to expect. What he got when the bell rang was totally outside of the realm of his imagination.

It was the little shit: Kenny was dead serious, Mox made the sign of the cross, and the methodical, slow pace they set. It was all physical strength as they jostled, tied-up with each other, all too aware of the limitations of the ring. After a year as his tag-partner, Adam was familiar with Kenny’s style. His explosive speed, how he worked the ropes, and his overwhelming energy. This was a different Kenny, almost uncomfortable in the confines of his cage. Close calls, pushing, prodding, biting each other, trying to force the other into barbed wire they treated with the respect it deserved it. Mox beat Kenny with every instrument available and Adam knew the way Kenny writhed was genuine. When Kenny sent Mox into the far ropes and a flash of fire sent billows of smoke into the arena, Matt gripped Adam’s hand like it was an instinctive reflex. He squeezed, hard, pressing his fingers around Adam’s palm. Pain shot-up Adam’s arm like a bolt of lightning. Adam hissed and reached over to pry Matt off his injured hand.

“Jesus, Matt,” Adam hissed.

Matt murmured apologies and yet his grip just switched to Adam’s wrist instead, which wasn’t much better because Adam’s whole arm was sore. Since apparently Matt needed to cling to something, Adam hooked his whole right arm around Matt’s shoulders. Then reached his left hand over to grip Matt’s hand. It was awkward and the armrest dug into Adam’s ribs but Matt rested his head in the crook of Adam’s shoulder, so it worked. Their fingers interlaced and Adam could only imagine how fucking goofy they looked. If the cameras happened to pick them up in the crowd they would never live it down. At least, Kenny had his footing in the match, he was in control, working over Mox, looking for that pin— Adam wasn’t sure if he was rooting for Kenny or not. Or, if he just kinda wanted this to be over because it was evidently mentally ripping Matt to shreds.

Wanted this to be over, the belt out of Kenny’s hands, and somewhere else, where it couldn’t be between them anymore.

Blood and smoke, broken hardware, torn skin. Kenny in the ropes, blinded by the dust, begging for water for his burned eyes. Matt’s breath, high in his throat, turning his face into Adam’s shoulder. And Adam just watched. He watched and forgot about the beer warming to room temperature by his side. A pressure built in his jaw, and yet, he couldn’t look away. No clear thoughts surfaced, nothing solid, or real. Just ideas, images, tangled together with the scene before him like the barbed wire wrapped around Mox’s arm. He didn’t allow himself to settle. Didn’t allow himself to latch onto anything, just let it all drift, staying in the moment of the violence, pain, and brutality of two men literally trying to kill each other. The sight of Kenny’s blood, red, crimson, staining his white shirt, and marring his pale skin burned Adam’s vision.

He thought back to Full Gear. The way he could tell Kenny was in his head. Always a half-step ahead. And that whole match Adam was working his ass off just to keep-up. Trying to wiggle his way into opening, taking advantage of every opportunity like a life line. He’d watched that match back a hundred times and he could every single one of his mistakes. He found a new error to fixate on each time he hit the replay button. The truth was that physically, Kenny had no significant advantage over Adam. In fact, Adam knew he had all the benefits of superior strength, better cardio, and youth. In skill, there was nothing dividing them— After that tag-team run, Adam knew he could hang with Omega. What kept Adam back, what left him behind, in the shadow of Kenny was himself. His own tangled thoughts and anxieties, burning a hole in his heart. He had stared-up the lights, like a crashed angel, and kinda accepted that final pin.

Like, he just gave-up, after bearing the burden of a year from hell. Let it all roll off his shoulders. Atlas shrugged, and the world shattered. And in the midst of broken glass, he had rebuilt. With no end goal in mind. Just, kinda up, kinda forward, one step at a time, gazed fixated on his toes so he didn’t slip in his own blood, and not ahead, and now he was looking at the ring. Accepting the smoke and blood and tears and sweat, the desperate men swinging punch-drunk as the ten minute warning sounded. It was an observation, he could note it, and let the moment past. Adam was in the rankings, number three last Tuesday, maybe higher next Tuesday. It didn’t mean anything, it didn’t have to mean anything.

Didn’t have to do anything but just sit here and hold Matt.

When the Good Brothers rushed out to the ring Matt sighed and laughed, but it was high-pitched, shaking his head. Adam watched Mox go through the chair in a One Winged Angel but all Matt was muttering was that he ‘couldn’t take this anymore.’ He didn’t want to see the ending, but he did hear the three count, and Adam admitted that his masochist desire had puttered out. So, he pushed Matt to his feet and they slid through the rows to escape the arena. Outside, fresh air, cool and tinged with the taste of the metallic city, brushed against Adam’s heated face. Matt walked to the curb outside Daily’s place and collapsed. He sat there, breathing hard and fast, head between his knees, some, strangled, broken noise erupting from his throat. Adam shoved his hands in his jean pockets and sat down next to him. A lot of noises erupted from the arena behind them but the sounds muddled with the traffic, sirens, people, nothing distinct.

“Hey,” Adam whispered, reaching for Matt’s shoulder. He placed his hand in the crook of Matt’s neck and gathered him closer to his side. Matt was still hyperventilating and so Adam ordered firmly, but not unkindly, “dude, slow down. Take a deep breath. It’s okay, it’s over.”

Matt’s entire body trembled and Adam had half a mind to break six months of radio silence by calling Nick to tell him to come get his brother. Instead, Matt collapsed against Adam, burying his face in his chest as for the first time in probably an hour, he breathed. Every tensed muscle unraveled beneath Adam’s hand as all the fight left Matt. Tears tracked trails of dust down Matt’s cheeks and Adam hummed, low in his throat. It was something content, a pleased purr. He always liked feeling useful, needed, relied upon, and to have Matt physically leaning on him like this— felt good. It felt right. He’d been dropping the Bucks and Kenny, fumbling like an idiot, for a while now. Maybe now, when he felt a little stronger, a little more firm, he could hold them right.

Maybe—

Maybe, and the thought trailed off without conclusion.

“I hate this, why can’t it just be over,” Matt gasped into Adam’s shirt. “Why can’t we— why can’t we just, just be friends again?! We should never have left Japan. This shit wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t made this damn company. AEW was supposed to be fun, and all it did was just—just tear us apart.”

Against Adam’s thigh, Matt fisted his hand, nails biting into his palm. Adam placed his chin on top of Matt’s head. He didn’t respond to his question because he didn’t have an answer. No response that was adequate. Just a recap of all their broken dreams and failures. Matt knew the story. He didn’t need Adam to try to fix this. Adam couldn’t fix this but he could be here. He could do that.

“I want things back to how they were,” Matt admitted, and his voice was softer, but hitched with a sob.

“I don’t,” Adam said.

Matt stiffened under Adam’s arm. And Adam had a feeling the thoughts that came to his mind weren’t the most gentle thing to say to Matt as he spiraled off a panic attack— but they were maybe the things Matt needed to hear.

“I hated being in the EVP room,” Adam continued, and his voice shook. “I hated living in your shadows. I hated watching you guys go out with Kenny and be in his corner, while I always had my matches alone. I hated— I hated being the weak link. I hated never feeling like I belonged. Like, I never deserved to be your friend.”

“Hangman—” Matt pulled back to look at Adam, his eyes wet with tears.

“No, no, Matt listen,” Adam insisted. He hooked his hand around the back of Matt’s neck. “This shit, would’ve happened in Japan, or NXT, or Ring of Honor, no matter where we went. Because wherever you go, there you are, and we carried our baggage here.”

“I just had no idea we made you so miserable,” Matt confessed. “That we made you—”

“Dude, I made myself miserable,” Adam laughed, interrupting him. “All up in my head and shit, and I’m done with that. I’m done with the bullshit and the drama. Maybe, I’m not the best, but I just wanna—I wanna focus on, I don’t know, having fun? Doing what I can. Forget about the stupid title.”

“So, you’re not going to challenge Kenny?” Matt asked. He reached for Adam’s face, pressed his palm to Adam’s cheek. Adam shivered under his touch, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“I don’t know,” Adam admitted. He ducked his head but Matt smoothed his thumb over Adam’s cheekbone and forced him to look up again. Forced him to meet Matt’s dark eyes, and Adam had no choice but to think, Holy shit, I love him. So, he whispered and confided, “I don’t know if I can.”

“I think you can,” Matt said. He inched closer so they were thigh-to-thigh, he tilted Adam’s face down to knock their foreheads together. Adam could hear the smile on his lips. “Someone has to knock some sense into Kenny. I don’t want to see my best friends fight but—”

“Matt,” Adam sighed. His hand reached across to Matt’s opposite hip.

“What?” Matt asked. Adam nuzzled his nose into his cheek. “Adam?”

“Nothing,” Adam smiled.

And he couldn’t help but to wonder why Matt believed in him when no one else did. What he saw that he recognized as potential. Matt’s patience as Adam strayed and wandered— that the frustration, read more as worry now than anger. And it was Adam that Matt sought out tonight. And Matt wasn’t shoving him away as he leaned in, the ghost of his breath on Matt’s bottom lip. Then, Matt’s phone rang and he was cussing, digging into his pockets. He checked the collar ID, noted it was Nick and murmured bashful excuses to Adam before answering. Adam leaned back on his hands, scratching his boot heels against the pavement.

“Hey, man,” Matt intoned, a hand running through his hair. HIs voice was still raw and he swallowed hard, putting on a mask of cool, stoicism for his little brother. “What’s up?”

Adam heard the low rumble of Nick’s voice on the other side. Chewing out Matt for vanishing during production. TK needed them ASAP, and Matt was nodding, promising he’d show-up soon. He just needed some time to get some fresh air.

“Is everyone okay?” Matt asked, and Adam leaned forward to hear the response.

“Yeah, everyone’s okay, Kenny, Mox, and fucking, Eddie? He ran out there right before the bomb went off, the idiot,” Nick grumbled. “But it was a fucking dud. It didn’t go off at all— the fans actually boo’ed, I can’t tell if TK is furious or relieved. I mean, Kenny made it so I don’t know what we expected—”

Adam choked on a laugh, leaning his elbows on his knees. His entire shoulders shook as cackles broke out of his chest and he covered his mouth to hide the noise. Adam barely registered Nick asking Matt who he was with before Matt hung-up the phone. Matt shook his head and then he was laughing too, breaking the tide of all the bundled, nervous fear that had held them. Adam knew in his head there was way more shit to work out between them. That they weren’t out of the woods yet and his heart was too tender, too fragile, to take another break but— it felt better.

In some ways, it almost felt good, and ‘almost good’ is a state Adam hadn’t been in for a long time.

“You should uh, go do your job,” Adam suggested.

Matt pushed to his feet and Adam stood too. He felt that awkwardness, the unacknowledged weirdness of almost making out with your not-best-friend, or the fact that they’re supposed to hate each other right now. All the crap that was still between them, all the land mines of conversations not yet triggered. Maybe, they were untangling the barbed wire. Closing the distance inch-by-inch, and it was magnetic, almost inevitable— but Adam wasn’t sure if he was ready to stand beside Matt. Maybe because he was afraid of being hurt again. Maybe because he was dead terrified of the air in the EVP room when he was swallowing all his words. Maybe, because he had always walked behind, and never beside.

He asked Matt, last year, for a little more time, and apparently, he still needed a little more yet.

“Yeah, uh, talk to you later, I guess,” Matt managed. When he breathed there was a shutter, the residuals of his panic attack. Adam figured if he was with his brother, he’d be fine. Nick would take care of him. Adam worried about a lot things but he never worried about the Bucks because they always had each other.

“Yeah,” Adam nodded. “See ya.”

Matt turned back to the arena first. Adam stood there, watching him walking away and refusing to let his thoughts roll over it.

It is what it is.

#darkenedhearts #‘The Hangman’ || Adam: IC #‘Deals with God’ || Adam: Verse

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3centsofbutter · 5 years ago

Text

Memoirs of a Medic - BNHA part 2

If you missed part 1!

Chisaki Kai / Eri

Part 2

Everything was shady about the Hassaikai, it was organised crime for god’s sake!

Prostitution, drug trafficking, arms smuggling. You were no stranger to the ins and outs of the criminal underworld, as a main child of the Hassaikai, you were never sheltered to the activities that the gang partook in, even encouraged to sit in on meetings and learn the ways of the trade. To the world, you were the scum of society, to be fair they weren’t wrong, but at least you had standards.

They did not.

“Heya! I’m Himiko Toga and this is Twice. Overhaul said you’d look after us for the rest of our stay, so I hope we can get well acquainted!”

You hated so-called villains, they made your blood boil. They were filth that ruined the Yakuza and led the Hassakai to the state it was currently in. There was an honour in organized crime, you only killed when necessary, Yakuza were sophisticated and had ideals, unlike villains who enjoyed bringing disorder to society and killed on a whim. You supposed that occasionally both lines of work overlapped in similarities but they were in a whole different league of evil.

You refused to talk to Kai after he even suggested that the Hassakai should have worked with the league. It had been a week since then and this morning they showed up. Hari told you that Kai worked out a deal with them a few days ago and that two of their members were to be integrated as active members of the gang. You expected Hari or Irinaka to be their babysitter but Kai had appointed you as some form of a cruel joke.

“Ne, you look kinda angry y’know. Don’t worry, we’re extra fun to be around!”

They were national criminals wanted by the law and they were batshit crazy, must’ve been the screws loose that made them turn out like this. They played with death for fun, you didn’t want to make friends with the likes of them. Her carefree persona and the ridiculously sickeningly sweet facade was testing your patience.

“This is your room, mine is a few doors over. I’ll be off now.”

Of course, it didn’t end there.

“Ne, I heard the source is here, can we see her?”

The smirk that danced on Toga’s lips was menacing. Her gaze suggested she knew more than she should’ve, it was unnerving. You knew Kai wouldn’t tell them anything about Eri, they shouldn’t have even known she was in this building. Twice stood beside her visibly panicking, Toga remained unmoved, eyes burning into yours.

“Toga-chan we shouldn’t medd- I am curious too”

Twice’s split personality didn’t make the situation any better. You could feel your palms getting sticky with sweat, you pulled at the hem of your jacket, bunching your hands in the fabric in an attempt to discreetly wipe away the sweat. You noticed the slight glint of amusement in Toga’s eyes as they flitted from your hands back to your face. You couldn’t let them know she was here, you couldn’t let them sense your fear. Screw Kai’s partnership with them, they couldn’t be trusted, they were villains for crying out loud! You sucked in a breath and stared straight into Toga’s eyes. The atmosphere was thick with tension.

“Unfortunately for you, you don’t have those privileges.”

You turned on your heel and hastily made an exit. You knew that she sensed your distress, you were aware that you did a terrible job of hiding it. You hoped that it was enough to at least confuse her so that Kai could make an intervention before anything serious happened.

Toga knew she was a bad person; she killed for fun, and she supposed drinking blood wasn’t necessarily considered moral, she had been told by others that she was a ‘crazy bitch’ but she wasn’t stupid. The woman didn’t seem like she belonged here, she didn’t seem like the type to work for Overhaul, she didn’t seem like the type to condone cell harvesting on children. But Toga knew how unfair life could be for the unfortunate and knew not to underestimate her abilities. Life took no prisoners and the innocent often adapted to survive.

“Ne Jin, don’t you think she’s kinda cute?”

“Not as cute as you, Himiko-chan!”

She would be fun to play with

“Kai what the fuck is wrong with you.”

“I am unaware of what I have done wrong.”

You knew under his stupid face mask he was smirking. His lazy eyes creased at the corners, he was having too much fun watching your outburst. It was not often that you gave in to your emotions but Kai always knew how to stir your pot in the worst way possible. You slammed your hand on his desk and grabbed the beak of his mask yanking it towards your face. You glared him down burning holes through his skull, he lazily gazed back at your’s unfazed.

“I don’t want anything to do with those villains, they ruined us, give them to Hari, at least he tolerates them.”

“I thought you were most fitting for the job, Yasuko.”

“Well, you thought wrong, shit-stick. So leave me be”

Kai sighed and shook his head.

“You have always given in to emotions too easily, you’re going to get premature wrinkles if you keep on scowling like that.”

He caressed the side of your face, fingertips barely brushing the surface of your skin. For a second you were caught up in the nostalgia, his eyes looked kinder and his face much younger. But the illusion dissipated as quickly as it appeared.

“Your oily fingers will make my skin break out, hands-off.”

“Alright my dear cyclamen, you win,” He let out a chuckle “I will ask Nemoto to take over.”

You let go of his mask, releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding in. You both stood in the comfort of silence for a moment, carefully considering how you were going to bring up the next topic.

“I know you’re worried about Eri.”

He always knew how to read you like a book. It was almost sad how little privacy you were granted while around him.

“The league knows about the source and may target her for their benefit. Toga asked me about her whereabouts”

Kai paused thoughtfully, he didn’t anticipate that the league would be in possession of such information, though he couldn’t say that it was completely unexpected. The intentions of the league were still hazy so it was best not to take any chances.

“We’ll move Eri to the Hakata ward base, Haruki will look after her there for the time being. We’ll move her back in one week if nothing suspicious arises.”

You inclined your head in agreement and made your exit. You would miss seeing the child for a while but it was definitely for the best. Haruki was the old head of the Hakata ward sub-clan. He was in his mid-50s and had greying hair grown out to meet his shoulders. He was one of the old man’s closest friends and his loyalty towards the Hassaikai was unparalleled. Eri would be safe there, he was a stern man but he had a soft spot reserved for his dear friend’s granddaughter.

“Yasuko-chan!”

The devil.

“Ne ne where are you going I’m so bored.”

Toga was leaning on the concrete wall, hands crossed on her chest, she looked almost dangerous but her childish demeanour prevented any real alarm to sound in your head. She was like a cat, she came and went as she pleased and never listened to anyone, her cute exterior masked the claws sheathed under the fluff.

“Good afternoon Toga-san, I have a few errands to run for Kai this morning out of the base so I won’t be sticking around for too long”

“Maaaaaa, I hate it here! I just want to go outside and grab some takoyaki!”

“Takoyaki does sound really nice right about now.”

Himiko supposed her path of a villain was somewhat predetermined by her quirk. There was no way anyone with a lust for blood could be a civilian, and never a hero. She always wondered what type of life she would’ve led if she hadn’t killed Saito and drank his blood. It wouldn’t have been as gratifying as her life was now, being able to satisfy her cravings for blood whenever she pleased. She supposed she missed her parents and her younger siblings, she missed walking the streets with her middle school friends without having to stick to the shadows and evade pro heroes that littered the streets. A normal life sounded nice compared to constantly being on the run, that’s why she couldn’t understand why this woman didn’t choose that life.

“Yasuko-chan, why did you give up your life as a civilian to be here? You don’t really look like you belong here y’know.”

From what the files Shigaraki had given her said, she was the medic of the organisation and had a regeneration quirk. From that and the short interaction before, she couldn’t see why she was living in an underground labyrinth participating in illegal activity.

“Toga-san, my life was never mine to choose.”

Oh? That was something she didn’t expect.

“Now tell me why you villains exist to ruin everything society has built for your own pleasure.”

Toga was a villain. Villains ruined the Hassakai. Villains were the reason Kai became who he was. Villains were the reason your father was put under a coma.

“I don’t know why, but all I know is that all I’ve wanted was a normal life, but some things out of your control don’t allow for that, ne?”

You didn’t expect anything serious to come out of her mouth, but you could consider this a pleasant surprise. Toga’s face was still smiling but you could tell there was something a bit more, akin to a slight sadness or longing. For a second you saw yourself in her eyes, much younger and more brash, fighting life headfirst harbouring resentment for people who were born in much better circumstances than you were. Now 26, you still held that resentment but lost your fight and became complacent to everything that happened.

“I suppose we both share that in common.”

No one chose this life on purpose, but only the strongest would survive.

“I’ll be off now, Toga-san.”

You wondered how long you would last.

A small box of hot takoyaki was sent to Toga’s room later that evening.

As you made your way down one of the more quiet shopping districts in town, you let your thoughts wander as you watched civilians walk past you. At this time of day, only the elderly and housewives with young children were dotted around the place. Pretending to be a normal civilian was something you enjoyed to do every so often, it amused you how people walked past you oblivious to the life you led.

“Ah, Yasuko! My favourite customer how are you, young lass?”

Nakamura Kaemon was the owner of a small mochi store you frequented. You, Hari, and Kai loved the mochi there ever since you were all brought into the Hassaikai. The old man used to bring them all together whenever work allowed and it held a bit of sentiment even now. The store had been slowly losing its customers over the years and you were probably the reason his store was still in business. Every week you would order 6 dozens for the base and secretly paying the utility bills for his shop.

“Ah hello oji-san, things have been the same as always.”

He disappeared into the kitchen and took out the boxes of mochi and placed it on the counter.

“There’s an extra box here?”

“Last week you said you missed the discontinued strawberry daifuku, so I decided to whip up a batch just for you. Don’t worry it’s free of charge.”

You looked at the box of pink mochi and began to water at the mouth. The red bean mochi was really good but nothing compared to strawberry daifuku.

“They were the old man’s favourite weren’t they?”

Father always did enjoy eating the strawberry daifuku, Kai would always say that eating pink things were girly but the old man would always laugh and say if he was girly so be it. After he was put in his comatose state, you seemed to gravitate towards them until they were discontinued.

“Yeah, they were.”

“Well then, I guess I’ll just have to sell them again then.”

“Thanks oji-san!”

After your trip to the shopping district, you came home to find a pot of red cyclamens on top of your dresser.

Ah, Kai.

He always teased you with the nickname cyclamen ever since you were both children.

“Kai! Look at those flowers aren’t they pretty!”

It was a cold winters night on the streets of Japan. It was your first winter without a roof over your head and your frail body wasn’t faring well with the cold. You and Kai were outside a florist sharing a blanket Kai had stolen from the charity shop.

“They’re just flowers, Yasu.”

You wouldn’t hear any of it. The tiny pot of flowers that sat in the window display strangely fascinated you. You were absolutely enamoured by the little petals and the heart-shaped leaves. To be honest it was the first flowers that you had seen that were alive.

Kai had never seen you worked up over something as menial as that and both of you had been through hell and back.

“We can’t have flowers like that, Yasu”

“I know, but they’re so pretty!”

Kai sighed and took out two bobby pins from his back pocket and began to pick at the padlocked door.

“Kai! What are you doing we’re gonna get caught!”

“Then we better run fast after we get this stupid weed.”

The padlock fell and Kai quickly dashed in and out of the store and held the small pot under his arm as you both fled into the night.

“Stupid red weed!”

The cyclamen managed to stick with you all these years and was planted in the front garden of the base as it had outgrown its pot quite a bit. It was a beautiful blooming bush that you regularly tended to whenever you had the chance.

Eri loved the colour.

A white folded card sat next to the pot. A message from Kai.

“Happy birthday, Cyclamen.”

Part 3

Masterlist of all my stuff

A/N: IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED SO YOU DON’T MISS PART 3 PLEASE TELL ME I don’t think anyone was waiting on this but it took me so long to write because this is the calm before the storm I guess :O. Anywho I was pleasantly surprised with how many people actually read it and liked it so thanks, I appreciate you guys a lot. The people who reblogged, I love you. I’d love to hear your feedback and talk to any of you, my asks and dms are always open. Might take a while but next chapter may be the last and its gonna be damn hard to write.

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heyyyharry · 5 years ago

Text

Last chapter: Flatmate

(from the Flatmate Trilogy: Two Hearts, One Home)

…in which they live happily ever after.

Word count: 6.8k

Chapter 16: Falling Like The Stars - Their best friends get married.

Wattpad link

A/N: This is it, guys. The last flatmate chapter. It's time to say goodbye to our favorite characters!

"Y/N, what are you doing in there?!"

After three more knocks on his flatmate's bedroom door, Harry was losing his patience. He'd been waiting outside for five minutes already and still hadn't got a single answer from her.

Why had he wanted a flatmate in the first place? Oh right, to split the rent. That was the only reason. But he should've thought about the overall cost which definitely had exceeded the benefits of sharing a flat with someone he couldn't stand. Now, he was paying for it.

He raised his fist to knock again, but then the door swung open and Y/N poked her head out, glaring at him.

"Oh, you're alive," he said, only to receive a disappointed frown.

"Go. Away," she grumbled, about to slam the door when he jammed his foot in to stop her quickly.

"Nuh-uh, darling. We need to talk about last night."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Yes, there is."

"No, there isn't."

"Yes, there is."

"No, there—" Y/N stopped and waved him off. "You know what? This is ridiculous."

As she attempted to shut the door in his face, he quickly put his hand on it and stepped forward, forcing her to lean back, her eyes bulging. He thought it was hilarious how flustered she was every time he got a bit too close.

Smirking, Harry tilted his head and lowered his voice. "What is more ridiculous is you being mad at me for having sex in my room."

"Are you kidding me?" Y/N crossed her arms, her jaw fell slack. "No, I'm not mad at you for having sex. That's all you've been doing since we moved in together."

He stuck out his bottom lip and gave a nod to agree.

"You still don't know why I'm mad at you?"

Her question left him tongue-tied. He parted his lips, about to deny it, only to realize he didn't actually know the reason.

"Okay." She cleared her throat, taking a deep breath. "Remember when we first moved into this flat and you broke my vase?"

"'Accidentally' broke your vase."

"Whatever. You broke my vase. I bought a new one. And last night while you were having sex—" Y/N's arm straightened as she pointed to her right. "Against that wall! You knocked over my new vase and broke it as well!"

"How the fuck could I have known you put your vase there?!"

"Then you shouldn't have fucked your girl against the wall between our rooms! I've let you get away with it too many times before!"

"Okay, fine, I'm sorry then," he breathed, lifting his shoulders in a half shrug. "I'm sorry for fucking someone in my room. I'll make sure to do that in the living room or the kitchen next time! Happy?"

Y/N held his gaze for a long moment before she let out a humorless scoff, "you're an asshole. You know that?"

Of course Harry knew that. It wasn't the first time he'd heard someone say it, and certainly wasn't the first time he'd heard it from her. Still, it kind of hurt his feelings when she pushed him back and slammed the door in his face. He tried knocking again, but the only response he got this time was the sound of her locking her door. He had no right to get angry. But he did. Mostly because he couldn't explain why he felt hurt by her reaction.

Stepping back, he gave a short mirthless laugh and raised his voice to make sure she heard every word loud and clear, "have fun eating alone! Let's see how long you can avoid me."

"Y/N! You can't avoid me forever!"

"Nobody's avoiding you, Stephanie," Y/N said as soon as she opened the door and greeted her neighbor with a heavy sigh. It was 7 AM. She was super weary and her belly was aching, but she assumed it was because she was close to her due date. Harry had left home early to prepare for an important meeting and she had overslept so now she was late for work. The last thing she needed was for Stephanie to waste more of her time.

"What do you want?" she asked, slightly annoyed by the blonde who was barefoot in the hallway and wearing only her nightgown. But Y/N wasn't so shocked for she knew this woman was batshit crazy.

"Where the fuck is Tiger?"

"How am I supposed to know? He's your cat," Y/N calmly replied. "Look, I'm having a bad morning, so—"

"Oh, so 'a bad morning' does exist in the Styles household then?" Stephanie snorted, her hands resting on her hips. "Where's Harry? Did he finally come to his senses and ask for a divorce? Is he living with his mistress now?"

"Uh, no?" Y/N's face contorted. "I'm having a bad morning because I'm late for work and my crazy neighbor is wasting my time."

She tried to shut the door but Stephanie slammed her hand right on it. "Mrs. Woods said she saw Tiger with your little cat this morning."

"Treasure is with Nam, so Tiger is probably with them," Y/N said as she rolled her eyes, but Stephanie's reaction left her confused. Her neighbor looked so...scared? Why was she scared?

"Did you—" Stephanie swallowed, her eyes widened at Y/N's feet. "Did you just pee or your water just broke?"

It was only then that Y/N looked down and saw the puddle between her feet. Her body stiffened at once. Stephanie, on the other hand, was making weird noises while fanning herself and panting like it was her who needed help.

"It's happening," Y/N mumbled as she shoved her hair away from her face, trying to stay calm, yet Stephanie's reaction wasn't really helping.

"Oh my God! Holy fuck! Jesus fucking Christ!" the blonde gasped. "Are you gonna give birth right here?! I'm scared of blood and babies! I think I'm gonna faint!"

"No!" Y/N bolted forward to catch Stephanie's arm before she could run. The woman was shaking when Y/N squeezed her shoulders, looked straight into her eyes and whispered, "I need you to take me to the hospital."

"Me?! Why—"

"Shut the fuck up and take me to the hospital, Steph!"

"Okay!" Stephanie screamed back, nodding so fast her head could fall off.

Now shaking, Y/N went inside to grab her coat and locked the door on her way out, but then the contractions intensified and she had to hold onto Stephanie as they headed toward the lift. She needed Harry now!

Here we go again, Harry told himself.

Every time they fought about something he'd done, his flatmate would give him the silent treatment. And despite telling himself he didn't care about her, Harry had always been the first to apologize.

Why was someone like him scared of a silly girl, you may ask?

Well, first off, Y/N wasn't a silly girl. She was one of the smartest people he knew, and sometimes she reminded him of his big sister Gemma. Whenever Y/N was mad at him, he was scared of her in the same way he was scared of Gemma. It wasn't the same fear Layla brought upon him. Gemma wouldn't hit him when he made her angry. She just stopped talking to him and started avoiding him, which was even worse, because she was his sister and he loved her and was afraid of losing her. So it was nonsensical to compare Y/N, someone he strongly disliked, to Gemma, one of the only two people he truly loved. But then it made him think harder. Was he scared of losing Y/N too? No! That was crazy. Impossible! But there was no other explanation for this.

Oh well, he hoped he'd figure it out someday. Soon, hopefully. Now, he had a bigger problem to deal with: Y/N was supposed to come home an hour ago and she didn't answer her phone.

He had sworn to himself that he wouldn't let her get to him. He wouldn't let her win by being the first person to reach out. Because if that girl kept on winning, she would one day have complete control over him (not that he actually believed it was possible). But once again, he found himself pacing back and forth in his living room, biting his nails and waiting for her to reply to his texts or call him back.

"She's probably talking to one of the neighbors again," he told himself yet didn't stop pacing. "Right? It happened before. You were scared shitless but it turned out she was fine. You're overreacting, dickhead. If she saw you now, she'd laugh in your face."

His monologue was interrupted by his loud ringtone and his heart almost flew out of his chest. Unfortunately, it wasn't Y/N. It was their neighbor Ben, who had probably forgotten to lock the door again.

"Harry?"

"Yeah, Ben, what's up mate?"

"It's about Y/N, she—"

"She's not here right now." Harry blew out his cheek as he looked at his front door. "I don't know where she is. She doesn't answer her phone and—"

"I know," Ben said. "I'm with her in the hospital."

The hospital?!

"Wait, what—what happened?" Harry faltered as he felt a big lump in his throat.

With a sigh, Ben told him, "she had food poisoning and asked me to drive her to the hospital. She told me not to tell you but—"

"Text me the address."

"Wait, Harry—"

"Now, Ben."

Just like that, Harry grabbed his car key and bolted out of the flat. Y/N was the only thing left on his mind.

"...then at 12 PM, you'll have lunch with Mr. Nakamura from Sato to discuss launching their new business in the UK market. At 2 PM, you'll meet our new potential client to discuss marketing spend optimization on digital channels and—"

"Thank you, Marie. Just email me the whole schedule."

"Yes, sir."

Harry gave his assistant a smile and told her to get him a black coffee before he entered the meeting room.

As usual, he greeted everyone at the table and sat down in his chair so they could start as soon as possible. Every meeting with Harry was like a quiz show. He asked questions and expected confident answers from the attendees, who knew him well enough to not show up unprepared. That was how every meeting with him stayed productive and efficient.

Y/N would joke about his CEO persona all the time after seeing how he talked to his employees. CEO Harry was so different from everyday Harry. He was super serious at work, especially during formal meetings when he did very little talking. He normally just sat back and listened, and he hated when someone distracted him while someone else was speaking. Marie, his assistant, should know that better than anyone else.

"Mr. Styles!"

The redhead burst into the room, causing the presenter to stop talking as all eyes fell on her. Annoyed, Harry waved his hand for Marie to leave and for the person standing at the other end of the table to continue. But the girl didn't listen and walked in anyway.

"Mr. Styles, this is—"

"Marie," Harry finally spoke, turning his chair to look at the girl now standing right beside him. "Just email me the schedule."

"It's not...it's not that..." she breathed and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

The chatter got louder as everyone started second-guessing what was going on, but all Harry could hear was those words Marie had just said to him. He rose from his seat, casually apologized for having to leave and told his assistant to take notes of everything and send it to him later. And of course, no one dared to ask him why.

He managed to maintain his CEO persona all the way to the lift, but the moment he arrived at the multistory car park, he started sprinting for his life to the car.

He started the engine and got the hell out as fast as he could. It felt like he was in a car chase scene in an action movie when his Range Rover swerved around corners and his adrenaline was pumping. But reality wasn't as cool as movies. He still had to stay within the speed limit, stop at red lights, and try not to run someone over and get arrested before he could even see his daughter's face.

As if he wasn't stressed out enough, Layla had to blow up his phone. He almost didn't answer, but she kept on calling so he had to put her on speaker.

"Hey, where the fuck are you?!" she shouted before he could speak. "She's going into labor!"

"I'll be there shortly."

"Wait, wait, Y/N wants to talk to you."

"Hey, baby!" His wife's voice was strained and breathy so he could imagine how painful those contractions were. "Can you come home and—and get the stuff we've packed for me and Ria?"

"Shit, I can't make a U-turn here, give me thirty minutes. You need anything else, love?"

"Get yourself some clothes too, you might have to stay with us for a few days."

"Should I grab something nice for pictures or whatever? I mean—"

"Harry, a baby is gonna come out of my FUCKING vagina! Just grab a t-shirt and get your ass over here!"

Harry's mouth snapped shut and he turned the car around so fast he almost ran a cyclist over. Looking into his rearview mirror, he saw the poor man get back up with his bike and raise his middle fingers in the air. Well, at least he was okay.

So much for treating people with kindness, Harry thought as he kept on driving.

Harry hated a lot of things, and the hospital was definitely in his top five. Now he hated Y/N for making him go in there when he was still healthy and alive.

As the nurse took him to see her, he tried to distract himself from the awful distinctive smell of the hospital with a thousand thoughts. Then it occurred to him that he could be the reason she'd ended up having food poisoning. She must have eaten the leftovers in the fridge because she hadn't eaten dinner with him last night.

Great, it all circled back to him. Maybe she was better off living with someone else. Wait, what if she had already considered that? What if—

"Harry?"

Her soft voice pulled him back to reality and he found himself standing at the door of her hospital room. She was lying on the bed with Ben sitting right by her side. The older man stood up right when he saw Harry and told Y/N, "you'll thank me later" before marching straight to the door. He stopped in front of Harry, patted him on the back and told him he got this before heading out.

I got this, Harry reassured himself as he sucked in a breath, but as soon as he closed the door and saw the look on his flatmate's face, he knew he hadn't got this, not at all.

"Did Ben ask you to come here?" she questioned, arms crossed over her chest. She was obviously still mad but he felt hopeful when she didn't ask him to go.

"He told me you were here. I wanted to come," he said timidly.

Y/N gave him the side eyes and was quiet for a moment before jerking her head toward the chair by her bed. "Sit down," she said.

He quickly did as he was told, no question asked. His bashfulness seemed to amuse her as she pressed her lips together to hide a grin, but he spotted it right away and now his heart didn't know how to slow down.

"How—" he broke the silence. "How are ya feeling?"

"Well, better than this morning." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked away when meeting his eyes.

He waited for her to continue but she didn't, so he went on, "when are you coming home?" Harry swallowed hard as her eyes fell back on him.

"Home?"

"I mean...our flat."

He couldn't believe he'd said home. It just felt like it was home. Well, at least for him.

"Tomorrow." She smiled, making his stomach clench. "Enjoy the only night without me."

That was exactly what he'd wanted before. Y/N rarely left their flat. She didn't have many friends and she preferred the comfort of her room to the rowdiness of social gatherings. He had wished that she would go out for just one night and didn't come back until the next morning so he could do whatever, and fuck whoever he wanted without having to worry about starting another fight with her. Yet, now that he finally got what he'd wished for, he only wanted...her.

"Is it okay if I stay here tonight?"

His question surprised them both. He wasn't even aware of him saying it until he saw the look on Y/N's face. She was surprised and speechless and perplexed at the same time.

Thinking for a second, she said, "are you sure? Ben said that couch wasn't very comfortable."

"It's just one night." He chuckled. "Besides, someone has to look after you."

"I'm in the hospital, H! I'm surrounded by people with medical degrees whose job is to look after me."

"They can't be here twenty-four seven!" he argued.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N smacked her forehead and dissolved into laughter, making it impossible for Harry to keep a straight face.

"The worst case scenario is me throwing up all over these white sheets...again," she said. "Besides, I only ate some bad food. It's not like I'm dying."

Harry didn't know if he was only imagining things, but he could've sworn his heart had just skipped a beat when Y/N flashed him another smile.

"I'M DYING! I AM DYING! I'M DYING!"

"No, baby, you're not, you—"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, ASSHOLE! YOU DID THIS TO ME!"

Harry had seen a woman giving birth in many movies before and even imagined himself as the poor husband, who would most likely faint when he saw the baby's head coming out of his wife's vagina. But this wasn't anything like he'd thought he'd experience.

With each contraction, his wife screamed and squeezed his hand and he had to stop himself from screaming too because her pain was a hundred times worse. Had he been there alone with her, he would've passed out hours ago. Thank God, her sister and Layla were also there to help them get through this.

Maisie was probably the calmest because she'd done this before. She was sitting on the other side of the bed, facing Harry and holding Y/N's left hand. "It's okay," she said. "You're a strong girl. You can do this." Still, it didn't stop Y/N from bawling like her guts were being ripped out.

"I love you, baby. I'm so proud of you." Harry pressed his lips against her temple and started stroking her dampened hair. She was soaked in sweat and she couldn't even open her eyes. Meanwhile, Layla was biting her nails and pacing back and forth near the entrance. She was just as scared as Harry was, but she had refused to wait outside like Niall because she wanted to see Asteria before the others.

"You gotta keep pushing, sweetie. You got this," said the female doctor.

Harry's throat was dry and he felt like his insides were on fire. He kept stroking her hair and his voice was hoarse when he tried to pacify her. His words, however, were almost useless at this point.

"You did this to me!" Her body shook as she sobbed, her face was red and twisted in pain. "You fucked me! This is all your fault!"

Harry was freaking out so he could only nod and agree with everything she said. "Yes, baby, it's all my fault. I'm so sorry."

"No, you're not!" she barked at him. "You're not going anywhere near my cunt again!"

Layla's loud cackle got everyone's attention so she cleared her throat and gave a shrug. "What? It was the first time I heard her say 'cunt'!"

"Hello?!! I'm the one giving birth here!"

"Shit, right!" Layla gasped and rushed toward the bed to kneel beside Harry. "Push, bitch! The harder you push the sooner this will be over!"

"You're doing great, sweetie! The head is out!" the doctor told Y/N, who gave her husband an agonizing smile as he got up from the floor, enthusiastic to see his baby for the first time.

"HOLY SHIT! THAT'S A BLOODY HEAD!"

"Harry!" all the women shouted at him.

"No, like literally a bloody head!"

"That's your daughter, asshole!"

"I know, baby! I'm just freaking out!"

"You're freaking out?! I'm the one with the bloody head coming out of my—" That sentence was left unfinished as the scream tore through Y/N like a great shard of glass. The scream came again, desperate as the blood drained from her face.

In Harry's intense silence, his eyes were wide with horror, mouth rigid and open, his chalky face gaunt and immobile. Her nails were digging into his arm, possibly leaving marks but all he could pay attention to was the deafening sound of his heart beating in his ears.

"One more time!" the doctor encouraged.

With a guttural grunt, Y/N gave one final push and the only sound they could hear was heavy panting of all the people in the room. Then, at last, came the baby's high-pitched cry.

Harry knew he must have looked like an idiot as he burst into tears in an instant, yet he couldn't help it. He started it and now Y/N, Layla, and Maisie were crying too. The doctor put Asteria in her mother's arms and Harry kneeled back down to kiss his wife again and again. He couldn't believe it. That was his beautiful daughter. She was here and this was real. They'd made it.

"Hello baby girl," Y/N whispered as she carefully held her daughter close to her chest. "You just made the whole family cry for you."

Ben wasn't kidding when he said that couch was uncomfortable. Harry had been tossing and turning for almost two hours, and he still couldn't find a good position to fall asleep in. As a result, he was sitting in the chair by Y/N's bed, just...watching her sleep instead.

Okay, this is creepy, he thought. This reminded him of that Twilight movie he'd watched with her a couple of weeks ago. He had even joked about what a creep the vampire dude was for watching his girlfriend sleep. Now here he was, watching Y/N sleep and she wasn't even his girlfriend.

Despite so, once he'd started, he couldn't stop. There was something so therapeutic about watching her sleep. He liked the softness in her features. She looked so lovely when she wasn't frowning at everything he said and did, but this couldn't come close to how she looked whenever she smiled. And he bet her skin was super soft.

Wait, where did that come from? Why was he thinking about that? Shit! Now it was the only thing he could think about.

He had never touched her before so he wouldn't know how soft her skin was. And he was curious. He wanted to know. So maybe he should—

Biting his lip, Harry gently touched her cheek with his forefinger and withdrew his hand immediately as she stirred and released a long breath. Thank God, she didn't wake up, otherwise he would've died from embarrassment.

He chuckled lowly when she lifted her hand and rubbed the spot on her cheek where his fingertip had touched.

"Why can't you be this cute all the time?" he whispered.

If she had been awake, she definitely would've heard him. But she wasn't awake, and he was too exhausted to keep his thoughts to himself. "You have to get better, alright?" he continued, keeping his voice quiet and low. "Get better and come home with me."

Home. He'd used that word again. But now that she wasn't listening, he didn't even bother to correct himself.

Home. He liked the sound of that.

He sat there with his chin on his palm and watched her sleep for another half an hour until exhaustion told him to get some rest. He looked at the clock on the wall. It was 5 AM already. There was no point sleeping now that the sun was coming up in only two hours. Harry thought he should go buy a can of coffee at the vending machine to wake himself up.

As his brain was weary from the lack of sleep, he didn't quite remember where that bloody machine was, and so he wandered aimlessly down the long corridor, eyes squinting and trying to adjust to the bright light. He kept on walking and walking, and eventually found himself outside the newborn nursery.

He was lost and should probably go find that vending machine so he could get back to Y/N. But no matter what his brain told him, his body refused to comply as his feet stayed glued to the spot. He stood there and looked through the massive window into the room. That were three rows of bassinets and...a lot of babies. He had never seen a newborn before and now he was seeing about ten of them.

"Which one is yours?"

The voice caused him to jerk away.

"Sorry for scaring ya," said the stranger. He was tall and lanky, around forty years old and Harry took a wild guess that he was the father of one of those ten babies in there.

"I'm not..." Harry stuttered. "Uh...I'm not a father."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"No, no! That's not what I meant!" the young man shook his head quickly. "I was looking for the vending machine and I got lost."

"Shit, sorry, mate." The man burst out laughing as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He probably expected Harry to leave right away, but he was still standing there.

"Which one is yours?" Harry asked the stranger.

Smiling, the man pointed into the room. "First row. Third one from the right."

"A girl?"

"Yup. My sweet little princess."

"Congratulations."

"Thank you." The man cracked a smile as he patted Harry on the shoulder. "Who knows? You could be standing here again a few years later."

Harry snorted and almost said that would never happen. But then his phone started buzzing in his pocket and he had to excuse himself to answer the call from Y/N.

"Where are you?" she asked the second he said 'hello'.

"I'm getting some coffee. Ya need something?"

"No...I-I woke up and I didn't see you so..."

"Oh." He licked his lip as his eyes shifted back to the babies. "I...um...I'll be back in five minutes."

"Okay...cool."

"Okay. Cool."

Just like that, he hung up. He didn't need to say a word because his pink cheeks had already spoken for him.

"Girlfriend?" the man asked with a smile.

Smiling back, he put his phone away and said, "more like a problem."

"Aren't they all?" The man jokingly rolled his eyes. "You should probably go. I'm gonna get back to my wife."

"Alright. It's good talking to you."

Just like that, Harry watched the nameless stranger walk away.

"Do you think Ria would ever forgive me?"

Niall's question made Harry chuckle. His best friend had insisted that they came to the newborn nursery to see Ria, because he felt bad for not being there when she first arrived. The longer they watched Ria sleeping in her bassinet, the more guilty Niall seemed. Harry thought it was hilarious and he had to reassure his mate. "I don't think Ria will remember this day let alone know who were with her in the delivery room."

"You're right." Niall breathed as his eyes fixated on the baby girl. "But if she ever asks, tell her uncle Niall was there."

"You're expecting me to lie to my baby girl?"

"Hey, I've lied to your other baby girl for you plenty of times before!" Niall stabbed a finger at Harry. "Remember that time you thought you had a whole ass child with another woman?!"

"Okay, let's not mention that while I'm looking at my actual child, alright?" Harry snorted, rolling his eyes.

They stood there in utter silence for a moment, and once again, Niall was the first to speak. "What was it like in there?" he asked.

Harry had been waiting for this question and he had been correct to assume that it would come from Niall. Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he said, "I didn't faint, so it wasn't so bad. But after seeing a head coming out of your wife's vagina, you came out as a different man."

"Wow..." Niall nodded slowly. "That's deep."

The two managed to keep their serious faces for only two more seconds and they both cracked up like two teenage boys. Their laughter only died down when they heard footsteps coming their way and another man joined them in front of the massive window.

Harry didn't have the best memory and that had been proven right every time his wife scolded him for not taking out the trash. But all it took was one glance at this stranger and he knew instantly where and when they had met before.

"Excuse me," he spoke, grabbing the man's attention. "Sorry, you probably don't remember me but we've met before a couple of years ago."

"We have?" The stranger lifted both eyebrows in doubt.

"Yeah." Harry nodded fast. "You were here to see your baby girl and I was looking for a vending machine and got lost."

"Oh, the vending machine boy! Good to see ya!" the stranger exclaimed as he pulled Harry into an unexpected hug and backed away, raising an eyebrow. "So...you got lost again or—"

"No." Harry shook his head and pointed into the room. "That's my baby girl. Second row. First one on the right."

"Congratulations, mate!" The man cackled and patted Harry on the back.

He said his name was Daniel, and he was there because his brother's wife had just delivered a baby today. Harry and Niall also introduced themselves, and Harry told his new friend he had just thought about their conversation a few years back just a minute or two before Daniel arrived.

"I told you one day you'd be standing here again," he said, smiling from ear to ear.

Harry hadn't got a chance to reply when all of a sudden a notification popped up on his phone. He read the text and told Daniel, "sorry, mate. I gotta leave now."

"Your new problem?" The man didn't need to elaborate on that question for Harry already knew what he meant.

"Same one," he answered.

The smile on Daniel's face grew bigger as he said, "then you better not let your problem wait."

"Yeah." Harry chuckled nervously. "I hope she's not still mad at me for not being there when she went into labor."

"Mate, at least you showed up. My brother actually missed the birth of his child this morning."

"Oh, I'm sorry. What happened?"

"He was cycling when he got the news and he went as fast as he could, then some rich bastard in a Range Rover almost ran him over!"

Harry went pallid instantly but Niall still hadn't caught on.

"Hey, Harry, you also drive a Range—"

"Let's go Niall! Y/N's waiting!"

Covering Niall's mouth with one hand, Harry waved goodbye to a confused Daniel and dragged his best friend out of there as fast as possible.

(18 years later)

"Asteria Anne Styles! Go get your brother and come down here right now!"

Arms circled around Y/N's waist, Harry laughed as he pulled her back into the kitchen. "Baby, relax," he whispered while laying kisses on her neck and shoulder. "She just came home last night."

"You're the reason she's like this," she said and turned around to put her hand on his shoulders. "I know she's daddy's little girl, but can you be on my side for once?"

"I'm always on your side." He arched an eyebrow playfully. "Just let her have some more time with her phone, so we can...you know?"

A smirk tugged at his lips as he gently sank his teeth into her collarbone. She tossed her head back, her eyes squeezed shut when her bum pressed against the edge of the table. He heard her mumble something about the vase and looked up to make sure it was still sitting nicely on the tabletop. He had bought that vase as an apology gift when she came home after that day in the hospital. He still remembered how she had smiled and told him, "let's see how long it stays with us until you break it again."

Now, many years later, after they had moved into and out of their second flat, and then into this new mansion in North London after Jasper was born, it was still with them, as new as ever.

"It's okay, I'll buy you another if we break it," he growled into her ear, making her giggle and push him away.

"We're not breaking anything because we're not doing anything while the kids are home!"

"Hey, Mr. Styles! Mrs. Styles!"

"Lillie!" The couple jumped apart, eyes widened at the smiley girl standing at the door.

Flustered, Harry cleared his throat to ignore the fact that this eighteen-year-old might have seen him groping his wife's ass. Then with a smile, he said, "Lillie, you need to stop scaring us like that."

Lillie quickly apologized and sat down at the table with her chin on her knuckles, batting her eyelashes at Harry. The man quickly turned to his wife to ask for help, but she was too busy trying not to laugh to say anything.

Lillie was Ria's friend from college. Her family lived in Germany and Ria didn't want her to celebrate Christmas alone at the dorm so she'd brought her home. She was a nice girl and her little crush on Harry, which everybody knew, was completely harmless. Still, it made Harry quite uncomfortable even though both his wife and his daughter thought it was funny.

"Where's Ria, love?" Y/N asked the girl as Harry wrapped an arm around her.

With a slight frown, Lillie said, "she's on the phone."

"Is she still seeing that vampire kid?"

"Babe, you need to stop calling your daughter's boyfriend a vampire."

"He looks like one, okay? That bloke thinks he's so edgy with the stupid haircut and the eyeliners. Our Ria can do better."

"Erik isn't Ria's boyfriend, Mr. Styles." Lillie chuckled. "They were just messing around. I think he started to have feelings for her so she called it quit."

"That's my girl." Harry nodded proudly, only to have his wife swat him on the chest.

"You guys need to stop talking about me and leave the door open like that."

The three stiffened as they heard Ria's voice and their reaction made her cackle. She came to kiss her parents' cheeks and sat down at the table with her best friend.

While her younger brother looked and acted more like Y/N, Ria was almost a female version of her father when he was her age. If the famous last name hadn't given herself away, her brown curls, dimples and green eyes would let everyone know she was the daughter of one of the richest businessmen in the UK. But business wasn't Ria's strong suit. She was an art major student, leaving it all to her brother Jas to take over the CEO chair in the far future.

"You better put that phone away during dinner tonight, young lady," Y/N warned the girl who pouted but did exactly what she'd been told.

"Is aunt Layla coming over?" Ria's face brightened.

"Yes, she is." Y/N snorted. "If only you were that happy to see me."

"Aww, don't be jealous, mum. You're my real mum."

"Only because you didn't get to choose." Y/N rolled her eyes as her daughter hugged her neck and showered her face with kisses, what she'd always done since she was little.

While they were at the table waiting for Y/N to finish making the pie and Jasper to finish whatever he was doing in his room, Harry snapped his fingers to steal Ria's attention away from her phone.

"Who's the boy?" he asked.

"No one," she said and immediately turned her screen off. "You know me, dad. I don't do relationships."

That answer earned her a fist-bump with Harry but then he received a death glare from his wife.

"Do not encourage her, Harry!"

"What? I didn't say anything!" he said, giving Ria a wink when Y/N turned away.

A dimple popped up on her cheek as she went on, "I was actually on the phone with my neighbor."

"You had a two-hour conversation with your neighbor?" Y/N asked, and Lillie burst out laughing.

"I wouldn't say 'conversation', Mrs. Styles. They're always shouting at each other."

Harry and Y/N exchanged looks of confusion as Ria began to explain, "so this jerk just moved into the flat next to mine a week ago, and I swear to you he's the most obnoxious person you'd ever meet." She tucked a curl behind her ear and chuckled. "But before I came back home for the holiday, I'd stolen all of his mails to get back at him."

"He hacked and changed your wifi's password last week and you stole his mails?" Lillie covered her mouth and snickered as Ria gave her shoulder a push.

"I'm not a computer nerd, okay? Who the fuck—"

"Language!"

"Sorry, mum. Who the eff does that?! Can't he pay for his own wifi?!"

"He probably just thinks you're annoying."

Everyone turned to look at the sixteen-year-old boy standing by the door. Now it was clear what he'd been doing in his room for the last two hours. He walked in smelling like an entire cologne showroom, his usually messy curly hair was pushed back and he was wearing the red Christmas sweater grandma had given him last year.

"Oh, hello, Santa's favorite elf."

"Shut up, Ria."

"Jas." Y/N sighed. "Do not tell your sister to shut up. And Ria, please, do not make fun of your brother."

Jasper ignored Ria and merrily asked his parents, "when will aunt Layla and uncle Niall be here?"

"Oh, please, you don't care about them. You're just in love with their daughter."

"Shut up, Ria," the boy grumbled at his sister but his face had turned bright red.

Smiling, Harry kissed his son's forehead and told him, "they'll be here in about an hour, mate. And you look great in that sweater. Audrey will be very impressed."

Ria opened her mouth to make another remark but was interrupted by the loud pop song blasting from her phone. She released the longest sigh when she saw the caller ID. "It's him again. Excuse me."

She got up and walked to the door, but stopped right there to turn back to Harry and Y/N. "Stop looking at me like that. It's not the same."

"What's not the same?" Lillie asked once Ria was gone and Jasper groaned into his palms.

Harry ignored the boy and said, "my wife and I also hated each other a lot when we first met."

"Here we go again!"

"Dad, not again!"

Y/N shook her head as she turned back to the pie. Jas, on the other hand, stood up and headed straight to the door.

"Don't take too long, dad. The Horans will be here soon," he said before walking out.

Lillie had no idea what was going on, but everyone's reaction had got her intrigued.

"Wanna hear a story, Lillie?" Harry asked, and she nodded quickly. She hated stories, unless it was gossip, but she would say yes to anything that came out of his mouth.

"It all began when I rented a new place in London and needed to find a flatmate..."

(end of series)

NEW FICS COMING OUT IN DECEMBER!

❤︎ STAY MINE - the last book in the 'My Girl' Trilogy.

and a new series called...

❤︎ THE CONMAN AND THE MAID

~~~

I'd like to thank each and everyone who has supported this series from the start and stayed with me through all the ups and downs, and also everyone who has just recently discovered this series. I cannot believe this whole universe started out as a blurb request on Tumblr about fuckboy Harry taking care of his sick flatmate and now it's a trilogy. Our babies have come so far since 'Under The Weather'. It's all thanks to you! I'm very excited and looking forward to sharing my future stories with you guys!

I will post the official announcements for these fics in mid-November. Stay tuned!

Love, Allie.

#flatmate!harry

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