#EVERYBODY SAY THANK YOU LANEY

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

here to stay | rhett abbott x oc

Summary: Tessa's coworker, Linda, has a thing or two to say about the Abbotts. And on Sunday, Tessa has the day off to spend time with her family and go to her special place. (wc: 4697)

Warnings: a flashback, no actual rhett in this chapter, background ocs

✎……PREVIOUS CHAPTER || MASTERLIST || NEXT CHAPTER

Tessa clicked the door shut quietly and stared at the painted wood grain. Thankful that the boys were gone to school and the house was quiet. 

Rhett Abbott. Gone was the boy she remembered from high school. All baby faced and hair kept short with a curl perpetually dangling over his forehead. Now, his cheekbones were more defined. His jaw and upper lip lined with stubble. The longer hair that curled out beneath his old brown stetson suited him. He had gained a bit of muscle since then too. Shoulders rounded and broad, but still lithe. The body of a rancher — of a cowboy.

He didn’t remember her. And in truth, she couldn’t blame him. They barely talked to each other during their school days. And while she had seen him plenty around town, running errands or out with his friends, she never said anything. Only took note of him from a distance then carried on with her own chores or focused on the people she was with.

But no matter how much she excused, no matter how much she rationalized, it didn’t stop the sharp sting of being forgotten from piercing her heart.

“Come on, Tess, you gotta tell us who’y’re crushin’ on!” Laney crooned loudly from her spot perched on the bed.

Tessa only hugged her knees tighter to herself, trying to make herself as small as possible, and hide her growing blush from her friends. She knew this topic would come up at some point during the sleepover. She just hoped Laney would start waxing poetic about Walker and everyone would want to move on from the subject to get her to shut up. Her hopes were dashed, however, when the conversation was immediately started by Laney asking her which boy she liked. 

“Why?” Chessler asked, taking a sip straight from the bottle of whiskey they knicked from her parent's liquor cabinet. 

“‘Cause then we can help her get the fella to notice ‘er!” Laney replied with a sweet smile that didn’t make Tessa feel any better. “Get’er a date! Everybody’s datin’ now.” 

They were fourteen, and it certainly felt like all of a sudden everyone was seeing somebody. Or liked somebody. Or was caught kissing so-and-so in such-and-such a place. Just last week, Shania Lovegrove walked into school with a rounded stomach she could no longer hide. Tessa’s parents, when she told them about it, discussed Shania and the baby in a sad way. But all her classmates simply marveled at the fact that she had sex. Wondering if and when they could do that too.

Chessler scoffed. “Boys’re stupid.”

“Y’re stupid,” Laney defended.

Thus another one of their arguments began. Common amongst the two friends so different from one another. But always ended in that way that was easily forgotten, and always was. Tessa was just thankful that all of the attention was off of her for the time being.

Until Riley sat down on the floor beside her. 

Riley Lopez. Tessa’s best friend since daycare days, when they were just learning to walk and playing with the toy horses together. Hair dark and curls unruly with eyes to match, Riley was a leader. Always had been. She was confident and caring, stood up for herself and for her friends. She was late to everything, a trait inherited from her mother, but you could always count on her to show up eventually. She listened well, and liked listening to Tessa best. 

“You like someone,” Riley pointed out quietly as their other friends continued to bicker.

Not a question. A fact. Straightforward but kind.

Tessa’s cheeks heated up again, her heart pounding in her chest. “H-How do you know?”

“‘Cause’y’re all red in the face.” She leaned back against the wall. “Wanna tell me who?”

“Y’gonna tell ’im I like ‘im?” 

Riley gave her a look. “Y’know I wouldn’t. Won’t even tell Laney.”

That made Tessa laugh quietly, releasing some of the tight grip she had on her knees. She leaned back against the wall with her friend and sighed. Her heart rate only slightly slowed. 

“‘S’Rhett Abbott. I really like ‘im.”

Tessa shook her head and picked up the box at her feet. Just a stupid adolescence crush. She got over it eventually and he never found out about it. Mostly because if he ever did she was sure he would reject her. Or she would just keel over and die. Either or. It took a long time for her to be confident enough in herself to go after what she wanted. And by that time, her crush on Rhett Abbott was long forgotten. 

Or at least that’s what she thought.

She could still feel the lingering heat in her face and neck over the way he said her name. At that small smile that showed more in his blue eyes than anything else. It was as if she was suddenly fourteen again — admiring from across a circle of friends and looking away anytime he caught her eye. 

“Who was that?” Linda asked as Tessa walked into the living room.

“Just another donation,” she answered, lifting the box slightly before setting it down with the rest stacked in the corner.

They were working on sorting it all by size so they could then be washed. A few days from now, the five boys under their care would get to take their pick from the clothes for the new school year. Tessa sat down on the couch and began going through the trashbag she left to answer the knock at the door. Linda sat on the couch to her right doing the same.

“Talked for a long time,” Linda mumbled.

Linda Sarver was a caring woman, but particular and oftentimes came across harsh. Heavy-set with dark hair kept short and beady eyes hidden behind purple, wire-frame glasses. In her mid-fifties, she was unmarried and bitter about it. She would never blame the job for her circumstance, but really it was the root cause. Linda was wholly dedicated to the Home and had been for nearly twenty years. It was her life’s work, her everything. It and its inhabitants always came first to her. At the cost of her personal life and potential personal dreams. 

Tessa liked to think if she at least got laid, she would be a little less uptight. But she loved her co-worker all the same.

“He’s a friend from high school,” she answered, fishing out a shirt, checking the size, and throwing it in the proper pile.

Linda clicked her tongue; threw a pair of jeans. “Just watch out for that Abbott boy.”

“Oh, so you were listening.” 

“‘Course I was.” Linda glanced at her sharply. “Those Abbotts’re strange — you should steer clear is all m’sayin’.”

Tessa’s brow furrowed. From what she remembered of the other Abbotts, they seemed normal enough. Quiet, old-fashioned to some degree — classically Western and mild-mannered. Always went to church and never caused a fuss save for those boys of theirs. Her parents telling stories about Perry getting into fights before he went off to college and finally settled down. And Rhett of course drinking too much, too young. But she supposed, after all she had learned, there was always a root cause for children acting the way they do. 

And nine times out of ten it was the parents.

“What makes ya say that?” she questioned.

Linda paused her sorting, set the sweater she held down in her lap and leaned in closer. Tessa raised her brows in interest, also pausing her work to listen.

“I remember when Royal first arrived in Wabang. I’s’just a kid. He just showed up on the Abbott land one day — outta the blue. And none of’em would say where he came from. What he’s doin’ on their land in the first place. Just that he was runnin’ from somethin’ and he was gonna be livin’ with ‘em from now on.” She spoke in a hush, as if the Abbotts were right around the corner and would hear her. “It was the seventies, y’could do that sorta thing back then — nobody kept any record’a kids like they do now. But, anyway, Royal grows up on the Abbott Ranch and when him n’that Cecelia were old enough…They got married.” 

“Oh,” Tessa said, head cocked to one side.

She had never heard that story before. Had never even thought to ask. That meant Royal wasn’t even Abbott by blood. And the ranch wasn’t his at all. It was Cecelia’s. She was going to have to ask her parents about this the next time she saw them. While she believed Linda, she wondered if they even knew.

“Exactly.” She whipped the sweater out of her lap to check the size. “S’like marryin’ your brother.”

Tessa didn’t say anything more and it was quiet for a long time.

As much as she loved her, she didn’t want to end up like her co-worker. 

Though Tessa loved her work and the Home and all the boys under their care, she didn’t want to suddenly be fifty and single and as bitter to love as Linda Sarver. But so far, after working there full time for two years, Tessa didn’t see a way to avoid it. Her hours were long. Her days off were few and far between and often interrupted by a call that she was needed. The few dates she did schedule moved around until they gave up or canceled altogether. She didn’t even have a place of her own. All she had was a small room in the upstairs portion of the Home — in case of an emergency — and that was it. No privacy. Just Linda across the hall like some ghost from her own future. Showing her exactly what she was going to end up being if fate didn’t intervene. 

Angry at love, alone, and buried in rewarding work — but still nonetheless buried.

On Sunday, Tessa had the day off and had almost completely forgotten about Rhett Abbott. She packed a bag, and left the Boy’s Home with hugs and promises to be back on Monday morning. 

She spent the day at her parent’s place. A horse ranch with acres of wide, open pasture and two dozen or so horses in their care. Some of the other ranchers of Wabang liked to call it a tourist ranch due to the cabins on their property they rented out for a bit of extra cash and the horse riding lessons they offered. Her parents had always paid them no mind. Liking to remind them that their children usually came to their ranch to learn how to curve barrels and weave polls. That usually shut them up nicely.

The house nestled just off the main road, dividing the line between their east and west pastures, was small. A rebuild in the sixties after the original farmhouse was knocked down in a storm. No one was alive who remembered the storm — but according to the stories it was the worst Wabang had ever seen. Made of yellow siding and stone, the house barely contained the Abernathy family of five while Tessa was growing up. But now all three daughters were older and moved out and the tiny house suddenly felt like too much room for just Nathaniel and June. 

Tessa pulled into the short drive with a smile. Her older sister’s car already parked near the front porch. 

Inside, the house was bustling with life. Her sister’s three children running around on the hardwood floors, being chased by their Poppy. A George Strait record was playing, filling all the corners and cracks with I Can Still Make Cheyenne. Distantly, she could hear pots and pans clattering together in the kitchen. No doubt her mother and sister trying to coordinate cooking breakfast together. The furniture was old but comfortable — well lived in. A quilt made by her mother draped over every couch and chair. The walls were covered in family photos and art bought at craft fairs.

It was nothing special. But Tessa felt her very bones settle into the space. A weight from weeks spent away lifted from her shoulders. This was coming back home. A release and an anchoring.

Her brother-in-law, a ranch hand who seemed perpetually tired, was the first to greet her from his spot on the living room sofa, looking at his phone. “Hey, Tess.”

“Hey, Slick,” she answered as she toed off her sneakers at the door.

The kids ran by giggling and screaming on their way to the dining room to then loop back through the kitchen and the living room to do it all over again. They were slowly pursued by Tessa’s father acting like a monster. His hands raised high over his head and loud roars added to the cacophony of sounds. The sight made her laugh as she dropped her overnight bag on the floor. 

But he stopped the act once he spotted her. His wrinkled face as treated leather lighting up as he brought her into his arms. 

“Tessa-Bug!” he laughed heartily as he squeezed her into his broad chest. “Oh, I’ve missed you!” 

She wrapped her arms around him, feeling like that same little kid but all grown up all at once, and took in his familiar scent. Hay and Old Spice soap. 

“Missed you too, Dad.” 

“Tessa’s here? Oh, thank God!” her sister Shiloh called from the kitchen. 

Her mother chimed in loudly. “Honey, we desperately need your assistance in here!”

“They’ve been tryin’ t’make y’r quiche for twenty minutes,” her father muttered to her like it was a secret. 

“Oh, geez,” Tessa laughed, releasing him from their embrace. “Better go help then.”

After the quiche was correctly put together, Tessa explaining that the egg mix needed mayo which was why it didn’t look right, her mother and sister got started on the other breakfast items. Biscuits and gravy, sausages and bacon, and french toast for the kids. Shiloh broke out the things for mimosas and made each of them one with a mischievous smile. The kitchen soon filled with the smells of good food, laughter, and singing along to Do the Right Thing.

“Wish Rachel was here,” her mother commented on a sigh as she got down the plates. 

Shiloh and Tessa shared a knowing look. Rachel was the oldest Abernathy sibling. She lived two hours away in Casper and didn’t come out to visit her family much. Her excuse was always that she was busy. Which was taken as truth for a few years after she moved back from New York. She did just open her own law firm, after all. But as the years went by, the excuse was taken with more and more grains of salt. Everyone knew why she didn’t come to visit very much. A little bit of shame can go a long way, it seemed.

Only June Abernathy still held out hope for her oldest daughter. And would do so until the day she died.

Tessa, on the other hand, couldn’t help but think poorly of her sister. She was raised in Wabang, on that same horse ranch, just like the rest of them. But then she went off to New York and met that accountant — and suddenly she was too good for this place. For her family. It made something sour rise in her stomach. Share a glance with Shiloh who harbored similar feelings.

Mostly, she just hated the looks that would overcome her parents at the mere mention of Rachel. The sadness. The hope. How could she treat them that way? How could she make them feel like there was anything to be ashamed of?

Neither Shiloh nor Tessa made any reply to their mother’s quiet comment — continuing to cook breakfast in silence.

With the table set and the kids wrangled into staying in their seats, breakfast began. Praises and thanksgiving were passed around along with all the different dishes and sides. Nate groaned loudly as he took the first bite of quiche, giving Tessa a thumbs up and a slow nod of appreciation. She just laughed and rolled her eyes affectionately.

Slick helped one of his sons cut up his french toast and poured an appropriate amount of syrup over top. Then he leaned over and kissed his wife’s cheek with brown eyes brimming with love. He may have always been tired, but Slick Vawter loved his wife more than anything in the world. 

And Tessa wanted what they had. Those love-filled looks. That trust and respect and care. That hand on her thigh beneath the table, letting her know she was on a team. She wasn’t alone. They were in this together. 

But instead, she was surrounded on either side by her parents. Who laughed and told stories from the weeks since she last saw them. Who insisted she get a second helping of quiche. Who looked at her with love in their eyes but it wasn’t the same. 

It wasn’t what she couldn’t seem to find.

“Saw Rhett Abbott the other day,” Tessa commented off-handedly when the conversation seemed to lull, pushing around the last bits of sausage on her plate.

Her intent was to ask them all the story about Royal and Cecelia Abbott. If there was any truth behind Linda’s words. Who, after a few days to think about it, seemed oddly disgruntled about the whole thing. Part of her wondered if Linda was at all jealous of their relationship — even going so far as to imagine that once upon a time Linda had a schoolyard crush on Royal. But bringing up Rhett seemed like the best way to ease into it. After all, she knew her family, and knew that they liked a good lead-up story. 

Shiloh perked up from the other side of the table. Her children long dismissed to keep playing. “Didn’t you have a crush on ‘im in high school?”

“Maybe.” 

“He the bull rider? Royal’s kid?” Nate questioned with a furrowed brow, leaned back in his chair to continue sipping at his black coffee.

“Yeah. He’s pretty good,” Slick chimed in.

June’s face lit with recognition. “Oh! He’s the one y’wrote in y’r diary ‘bout!” 

“Ma!” Tessa hissed, exasperated, already feeling a heat rushing to her cheeks.

Maybe she shouldn’t have brought up Rhett after all.

“Wait, what’d she put in’er diary?” Shiloh asked, grinning ear to ear.

“Ma, don’t you say a word!”

“Not much,” June answered, glancing over at her daughter with a grin over the lip of her coffee mug. “Just Tessa Abbott over and over with a bunch’a hearts n’all.”

“No, she didn’t!” Shiloh laughed.

“Ma!” Tessa crooned, slapping her hands over her face to hide her embarrassment and hunkering down in her chair. 

There was no way her sister was letting that go anytime soon. 

“What? S’not my fault ya left it open right there on y’r bed!” 

“It’s embarrassing!” she argued.

Nate leaned in closer to his daughter. “Gotta admit, sis, it’s a lil’ funny.”

Thus began an Abernathy argument about privacy and high school crushes. Linda’s story concerning the Abbott’s history completely forgotten.

In early September, the morning was bright and clear and warm. A light, cooling breeze was carried off the mountains in the west. The blue sky dotted with white clouds like tufts of cotton. The rolling green fields swayed with the long grass as a sea. It was beautiful, and it made Tessa ache with the bitter tang of nostalgia.

So similar was it to the days of her youth, and yet so far removed. 

Inside the stables, she found her horse waiting for her. A beautiful chestnut pinto mare with a long chestnut mane and tail. Her face had a white blaze down the center, her eyes big and brown, and held what to Tessa looked like a kindred soul. 

“Hey, Peaches, my girl,” Tessa greeted as she approached with saddle in hand. 

The horse whinnied sharply and tossed her head. Excited to see her rider after so long apart. Peaches was usually out in the pasture with all the other horses. Brought in occasionally for a visitor to ride when needed because she was one of the more well-behaved and patient horses. But it was clear that Peaches missed being ridden by Tessa. The girl who stayed up all night to watch her be born, named her, and was the first person to ever sit on her back. And who also wasn’t afraid to let her run at full speed. 

Tessa slung the saddle over the edge of the stall and scratched at Peaches’ head. “Y’ready to ride?”

After Peaches was properly saddled and fed one of the three apples stowed away for later, Tessa climbed onto the horse's back and set off at a trot out of the stable. The sun was hot but cleansing — and beautiful. It shone in Peaches’ mane and upon the still dew-covered earth. Birds chirped from their nests high in the stable rafters and the sky overhead. Distantly, she could hear her father singing as he worked in the garden by their house, her nieces and nephews screaming with glee; and it made her smile. 

She set off through the west pasture, towards the old creek and the mountains beyond. Once they were clear of the fence, Peaches took off at a gallop with Tessa’s gentle urging. The wind whipped through her hair as she crouched down closer to Peaches’ back, reigns only held loosely in her hand. Peaches knew where to go. Towards the hill that overlooked the valley below, a single oak tree standing resolute at the top. 

Her spot. Tessa’s spot since she learned how to ride. The place she would go when she just needed to be alone, to take a minute to breathe, to let the world settle around her. She always felt her most happy on that hill. Where the sun shined and the wind cooled her skin. Where there were no worries about school or jobs or relationships or anything. Where it was just her and Peaches and the great Wyoming sky — stretching forever and infinite. 

Recently, however, there has been a new addition to her hilltop sanctuary. 

The man in the valley. 

Beneath the hill, further west, was a parcel of land not owned by the Abernathys. The great oak tree, really, was the border of their property — the fence only a short way down the hill. For years, nearly all of her growing up and even some of her adult life, the land wasn’t owned by anyone but the state. Left wild and overgrown but beautiful. The valley below filled with wildflowers of all colors, a little stream, and surrounded on all sides by dense forest.

Until one day, coming on five years ago now, Tessa rode up to her spot on the hill and found there was a gravel drive leading into the valley — and a nice solid foundation had been poured. From her perspective, it was no bigger than the size of her thumb held up to one eye. She asked her parents who had finally bought the parcel, but they had no idea who it was, just that they must have gotten a mighty good deal on it since it had been sitting for so long. 

In five years, not much progress had been made on the house. 

As she got down from Peaches and fed her the second apple, she looked down into the valley to see what had been added since the last time she was able to get out there. The framework appeared almost finished. That alone took him almost two years. 

Him. The man in the valley. The only person she had ever seen working on the house. 

Tessa couldn’t tell much about him. Except that he liked to wear hats, drove a blue truck, and was slow with construction work. Those were really the only facts she could assume. Everything else, she made up some story. 

She liked to think he was building the house for his future bride. Making it big enough for them and a few kids — the kitchen with a lot of windows just how she liked. Only working on it when he could find the time. Ring tucked in his pocket to keep it safe. Tessa liked to think he listed to Kenny Rogers and George Jones while he worked. That he cursed really loud when he hit his thumb. That he loved his girl so much he wanted to give her this. A beautiful home on beautiful land, just for them, made with his own two hands. But it wasn’t ready. Not yet. 

It made a sigh, longing and heartache, well up inside her as she gazed down into the valley. Hands in her back pockets, brown hair picked up by the breeze. A beautiful fantasy, one that probably wasn’t even real. But it was fun to pretend. To think that stories like that still existed for some people. 

Even if it would never be her. 

Tessa perked up, however, when she noticed that the man’s truck was in the drive. She always felt a bit like a creep when they were there at the same time, but really, she couldn’t help but love watching him. Fantasizing about what he may be like and what he was building for.

He was wearing his regular hat today — not his stetson. Dark hair peaking out the back. The truck bed was open, tools and two-by-fours spilled out onto the hatch. He walked around from the other side of the house, flannel in hand. It was starting to get hot as the sun rose in the sky and noon approached. Chucking the shirt into the bed of the truck, he picked up a water bottle and titled his head back to drink. 

Surely he was handsome. A ranch hand with lean, farmer’s muscles to match. A rugged sort of beauty. Someone who worked with his hands and smelled like Marlboro reds. Wore his boots until they were falling apart and liked his beers chilled. Her man in the valley.

Turning on her heel, Tessa walked under the shade of the oak tree where Peaches was already taking refuge from the sun. She could still see the man, leaning against his truck and staring at the house, from there. Her parents could probably tell her who bought the land now. But at this point, she didn’t want to know. The story she made up for him and his house too sweet to be soiled by reality. So, she sat down with her back leaned against the great big trunk, and she watched quietly. 

Not even an hour passsed, the man moving back and forth between the area behind the house that still needed framing and his truck for wood, when her phone began to ring in her pocket. Another perk of her spot on the hill. It was high enough that she still got some cell service. She smiled, Riley was calling her. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Tessa answered. 

“Hey, babe,” Riley replied, clearly working on something in the background. “This’s a Sunday you have off, right?”

“Sure is. Y’wanna make plans?”

“Yeah. Rodeo’s tonight — that sound good?”

“Sounds great.” Tessa got up from the ground, wiping the grass and dirt from her jeans. “Meet you there?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll meet ya there. By the uh — by the funnel cake stand,” Riley said, sounding distracted — most likely from finishing last-minute paperwork for her father’s construction company. 

“Funnel cake, gotcha.” 

They spoke for a few more minutes, mostly about how they hadn’t seen each other in a while and they were excited to do something together for once. But eventually, they hung up, Tessa bringing Peaches out from under the tree branches so she could hop back into the saddle and start heading home. 

But she couldn’t help but look down into the valley one last time. One last glimpse at the house and the man who was building it one day at a time. Only, it looked like he was staring up the hill at her, somehow. And she wondered if he knew there was a girl on the hill who liked to dream about him.

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[bluejaysandblackbats]

Hair Trigger

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Superfam, YJ98

Summary: A junior at Gotham University, Jason finds it difficult to conceal his worsening mental health from his family and his friend, Jon Lane Kent. Family secrets are revealed and boundaries are pushed as Jason and Laney struggle to navigate through school, their romantic feelings, and their trauma. Could the reintroduction of Laney Kent be more trouble than it's worth, or is it just what Jason needed to confront the demons of his past?

I will also do trigger warnings for chapters and if there is smut I have the chapter(s) tagged so you don't have to worry about nsfw in the fic if you're just here for the story itself.

Chapters: 3/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Jonathan Lane Kent, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Conner Kent, Natalia Knight, Jonathan Samuel Kent, Cassie Sandsmark, Chris Kent, Bart Allen, Original Character(s)

Relationships: JayLaney, Clois, TimKon

Additional Tags: University AU, No Powers AU, Sharing A Bed, Romance, Angst

Chapter Three: Heads or Tails

A few days later, as Jason got ready for school, he decided to call Bruce out of curiosity. Bruce answered the phone immediately, apologizing for their last conversation. "Good morning," Jason greeted him.

"You're up early. Is something wrong?" Bruce asked. Jason grabbed his lunch from the refrigerator.

"No, I just wanted to call you," Jason replied, "I'm getting ready to go to work, and I wanted to thank you for respecting my space this weekend."

Bruce didn't say anything for a moment. Instead, he cleared his throat. Jason put his phone on speaker as he poured coffee into a thermos. "You didn't tell Lane about what happened?" Jason asked.

"No, I didn't tell him anything. I just asked Clark to give Laney your number, nothing else... Did you want to talk to me about what happened?" Bruce asked, and Jason started feeling an uncomfortable tightness in his chest.

"Kind of... But, not now. Maybe a different time?" Jason asked. Bruce made an affirmative noise. "I just wanted you to know that I miss you."

"I miss you too, Jason," Bruce whispered, "Can I ask you something?"

"Mhm," Jason answered as he slipped his shoes on.

"Do you think maybe we can have lunch over the phone later?" Bruce asked.

Jason grabbed his keys and shoved them in his pocket. "My break's at noon," Jason replied, "How's everybody?"

"They're okay. Dick went back to San Francisco yesterday," Bruce replied, "Damian's at his mother's... Tim's out of town with a few of his friends... But they're fine. Everyone's doing alright."

"That's good," Jason whispered as he made his way out of his apartment, "I'll talk to you at lunch?"

"I'll be looking forward to it," Bruce replied.

Jason made a soft noise and hung up before entering the tutoring center and clocking in. He set up his table, and a girl sat down across from him. He worked with her on a writing assignment for nearly thirty minutes, and she was immediately replaced with an older man.

"Good afternoon, young man. I don't need much help today. I just wanted to ask if you had any instructions for the Chicago format," the man asked. Jason nodded and took out a yellow piece of paper, and he explained where the same information could be found online. "Oh, I have one more question. Is the food in the cafeteria any good? I've forgotten my lunch."

"Uh-huh, I wouldn't eat anything from the fridge, but the cooked food is fine," Jason answered. The man smiled and thanked him, going about his way. For nearly an hour, Jason sat with no one else to assist, and he saw someone standing outside the glass doors. He leaned forward to see who it was, and by the time he could make out the face, she was sitting across from him at the table.

"Cass, you don't go here," Jason whispered. She shrugged.

"I didn't follow you. I was waiting for Steph," she replied, "What are you doing?"

"I'm working," Jason answered, "Steph has a class this early?"

Cass shook her head and tapped on the table. "Can I give you a hug?" Cass asked. Jason smiled and stood up, opening his arms and giving Cass a hug.

"When are you supposed to meet her?" Jason asked.

"Ten minutes from now. I'm early," Cass whispered as she sat back down across from him. "We miss you."

"Well, I work here Monday and Wednesday from eight to two, and Friday from eight to noon... So, I'm here most of the week if you wanna stop by," Jason replied. Cass smiled.

"I think I have to go now, but it was nice to see you," she smiled. Jason waved at her as she left the tutoring center, and he took out his phone and sent a text to Bruce. A few people stopped by asking for writing resources. For the most part, things were quiet.

The day seemed to drag on forever until lunchtime. He left the building and sat on a bench outside.

His phone rang, and he plugged in his headphones, answering with a controlled, "Hello?"

"Did you still want to have lunch?" Bruce asked.

"Mhm, I do... Um, Bruce, I need you to know I've never been mad at you. I'm just struggling with a lot of bad memories right now," Jason confessed. His hands shook as he opened his bag to get his lunch, and Bruce said something over the phone that Jason couldn't hear. "Huh?"

"I'm sorry... I was just a little shocked. Was it something that happened while you were with me?" Bruce asked.

"No, it wasn't you. It's not you... It's—." Jason swallowed hard. "Sorry... It's something I remembered from when I was little." Jason took a deep breath and went on to catalog several years' worth of abuse and torture while in tears. He could hear Bruce set the phone down, and he took another deep breath.

"Jason, I didn't know—."

"It all came flooding back last semester, and I couldn't explain it to you then," Jason mumbled. He felt as if he couldn't catch his breath.

"Jason, I'm glad that you shared this with me today... I'd like to think you're ready to come home now, but I imagine that's not the case just yet. Am I right?" Bruce asked. Jason made an affirmative noise.

"I don't wanna move back, but now that you know what's going on in my head, I'd like to visit," Jason answered. He wiped his face with his sleeve. "I just wanted you to know that I meant what I said about wanting to come home."

"You can come home whenever you want to. Jason, we love you..." Bruce swallowed hard. Jason nodded and took a deep breath.

"I love you too, Bruce," Jason replied and sniffed. Jason started on his lunch, and he could hear Bruce open a soda. "I saw Cass today."

"You did?" Bruce asked. Jason took a bite of his sandwich.

"Uh-huh, it was nice seeing her," Jason added.

"Pastrami?" Bruce asked.

"Tuna, I had pastrami on Thursday," Jason corrected him. They spoke to each other for a little while until they both finished eating, and Jason raised one of his legs and rested his chin on his knee. "It was nice speaking to you today."

"It was nice speaking to you too, Jason," Bruce replied. Jason hung up the phone and finished his lunch.

He drank the rest of his coffee and went back to work. He set up his table once more, and he finished out his shift. He walked across the campus to wait for his class to start and charge his phone.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the campus, Laney sat in a corner in the cafeteria, facetiming his father. "Are you staying out of trouble?" Clark asked. Laney nodded. "How was your weekend?"

"I had a great weekend. I went to a party in the East End with Jay, and I spent most of the weekend at his apartment... I left Sunday morning—." Laney moved closer to the phone to look at Clark.

"What?" Clark asked.

"You're buttering me up because Mom has bad news... Right?" Laney asked.

"What? No," Clark answered. Lois made a noise in the background and took the phone from Clark.

"Hi, Lane," Lois greeted him.

"Mom," Laney replied.

"Don't do that—."

"You're canceling on me, aren't you?" Laney asked. Lois shook her head.

"I'm not canceling on you. I'm rescheduling," Lois replied, "If you can reschedule for any time next week—."

"Why?" Laney asked coldly. Lois took a deep breath. "Don't do that. Don't act like I have no right to be angry about this—."

"I'm not. Laney, I didn't realize that our thing was the same day as Sammy's field trip—."

"So this is about Jon? Why can't Dad chaperone?" Laney asked.

"Because he's covering a story out of town on Friday. Just bear with me. If you reschedule for next week, I'll be there," Lois replied. She softened. "Lane, how's Jason?" Lois sat down on the couch next to Clark.

"Asking the wrong questions, Mom... And the answer to your actual question is no. No, I didn't tell him about the actual reason we weren't allowed to hang out anymore," Laney replied. Clark relaxed his shoulders. "And to your leading question, he's Jason. The same Jason that I've always known."

"I'm glad you kept it to yourself, Lane," Clark replied.

"I'm not happy about it, but everyone knows that already," Laney replied, "I just don't get the point of lying to him. It's not benefitting anyone—."

"Lane, please tell me you're not going to start problems on purpose by telling Jason something he doesn't need to know," Lois sighed.

"I won't cause problems on purpose. It's not like I don't care about Jason..." Laney ate his french fries. "But don't you think that it's wrong that his memory of what happened is a complete lie?"

"It's not for us to say," Lois replied. Laney sighed and picked over his food.

"Anyway, how are the boys?" Laney asked.

"Sammy's running for class president, and Chris just joined an afterschool club," Clark answered.

"So, that's why no one's home yet?" Laney asked. He finished his milkshake and tapped the bottom of the cup against the table.

"Would you like to share your feelings about being away from home?" Clark asked.

"Do we have to do the whole feelings thing?" Laney asked. Neither parent answered. "Okay, fine. I felt like I was gonna be alone, but it's nice to know that I still have a friend here." Laney paused to wait for their answer, only to see that they were smiling. "Please don't do that... I'm only telling you guys what you already—."

"We love you, Lane," Clark whispered. Lois's eyes softened.

Laney softened as well, and he let out a breath of air.

"I love you guys too... And Mom? I'm gonna reschedule for next Friday, okay?" Laney asked. Lois nodded.

"We've gotta go, but we'll talk again soon," said Clark.

Laney finished his call and threw away his food before going back to his car. His roommate called him on the phone, and he rolled his eyes before answering. "Hi, buddy," Laney answered. The fire alarm beeped in the background.

"How do I put out a grease fire?" she asked.

"Jesus Christ. Okay, put the cookie pan over it or take some salt and throw it on the fire. I'm on my way home right now," Laney replied as he put his phone on speaker and set it down in the cupholder. "I've got you on speaker..." Laney pinched the bridge of his nose and held back a laugh. She started crying.

"I'm so sorry, Lane, I completely forgot that I left the fire on and—."

"Sylvia. Sylvia, listen, it was an honest mistake. No one's mad at you. I was already on my way home," Laney reassured, "I bet you it's not even that bad." He couldn't make out the next few things that she said, so he chose not to answer until he got to their building.

"The whole apartment is hazy—."

"I'm almost up there. Just relax, okay?" Laney raised his voice while maintaining a gentle tone. He went up the stairs, and he hung up the phone as he let himself in. He immediately started choking from the smoke in the room.

"Sylvie! Gus Gus! I'm home," Laney called, and Sylvia came off the fire escape in tears holding Laney's cat. He took off his sweater and swung it at the smoke alarm.

"Lane, I'm so sorry. I left the stove for five seconds to go to the bathroom—." Laney took his cat. "Come on, let's go back to the fire escape," Laney suggested. They climbed out the window to the fire escape. "Don't worry, everybody does this." He sat down, and she sat close by him.

Sylvia didn't say anything at first. She just sat next to him, wiping the tears from her eyes, and Laney took a deep breath. "Need a hug?" Laney asked. She nodded, and he put his arm over her.

"I thought you would be mad that I scared Gus," she whispered.

"Gus is fine. Thanks for taking him outside," Laney replied as he rubbed Gus's ears. "It sounds like you had a rough day. Are you okay?"

She shrugged. "I just miss my mom," Sylvia whispered, "I know I can call her, but it's not really the same as seeing her in person."

"I understand that... I really do," Laney whispered.

"But you're so good at living on your own," Sylvia replied.

"It took a long time to learn how to live alone," Laney explained, "I was in a boarding school for two years, I lived in a dorm my freshman year in Metropolis, so I've had a lot of experience living away from home... But I know what it feels like to be homesick."

"How long did it take you to stop missing home?" Sylvia asked. Laney shrugged.

"A long time, but it's normal," Laney whispered, "Have you made any friends here yet?" Sylvia mumbled something and made her way back inside. "Huh?" Laney asked. He let Gus back in the house and made his way inside. "Was that a touchy subject?"

"I have a girlfriend here," Sylvia answered out loud. Laney cocked his head.

"Wait, have you not ever said that out loud before?" Laney asked. She nodded. "Oh. Oh! Sylvia, listen, if you ever want to invite your girlfriend over, this is just as much your apartment as it is mine."

"So, you don't have a problem with me—."

"I have no problems with you. You're a great roommate," Laney replied as he threw the charred pot in the trash. "Even if you almost burned our apartment to the ground today." Sylvia laughed. "I'll order in."

[millilps]

oh i have A LOT of songs and also this Doctor Who themed playlist

anyway

Doctor coded songs:

Astronaut by Simple Plan

Jane Birkin by Mika

Dear Fellow Traveler by Sea Wolf

Candy by Robbie Williams (I'm not sure why but the chorus is very 13 to me)

Protector by City Wolf

Children of the Sky by Imagine Dragons

Stage Diving by Pinguini Tattici Nucleari (12 and his relationship with Clara; it's in Italian but here's a translation)

Kick Ass by Mika

Don't Stop The Devil by Dead Posey (12)

Keep It Simple by Mika and Vianney

Tomorrow by Mika

Run Wild by Laney Jones

The Best Days Are Yet To Come by Jay Putty

Built To Last by Tub Ring

Shut Up by Daði Freyr

Geronimo by Aura Dione and Jost & Damien

Scrivile Scemo by Pinguini Tattici Nucleari (10; translation here)

Dance (Our Own Party) by The Busker (feels very 11)

What They Say by Victor Vernicos

I'm Fine by Daði Freyr

What We Live For by American Authors

King And Lionheart by Of Monsters and Men (13/13 and Yaz)

Going Home by The Score

Eyes Closed by Ed Sheeran

Counting Stars by OneRepublic

Staring At The Sun by Mika

Learn Me Right by Birdy and Mumford & Sons

Thank You by Daði Freyr

I Touched The Fire by Casey Breves

Spazio Tempo by Francesco Gabbani (translation here)

Everybody Loves Me by OneRepublic

The Dumb Song by AJR (mostly 11 but works with all regenerationds)

Wings Of Time by Tame Impala

Dynamite by BTS

Origin Of Love by Mika

Good Company by Bronze Radio Return

Bones by Galantis and OneRepublic

Binary by The Spook School

Terzo Cuore by Leo Gassman (translation here)

I've No More Fucks To Give by Thomas Benjamin Wild Esq (strong 1 and 9 energy here)

Celebrate The Reckless by Magic Giant

Everything Moves by Bronze Radio Return

Immortals by Fall Out Boys

I Lived by OneRepublic

I'm Born To Run by American Authors

On Top Of The World by Imagine Dragons

Time Adventure from Adventure Time, cover by MathematicPony (10/10 and Donna)

Soldier, Poet, King by The Oh Hellos (9, 10, 12, in this order)

Geronimo by Sheppard

Dog Days Are Over by Florence + The Machine (13, maybe?)

Run Boy Run by Woodkid

Anti-Hero by Taylor Swift

Safe And Sound by Capital Cities

Yellow by Coldplay, either the original or the cover by Jodie Whittaker

I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) by The Proclaimers

C'est La Vie by Mika

T-Rex from Nimona by K.Flay

Wild One by Malinda (13)

sadly I've only seen NuWho and season 1 of Classic Who so I can't help much with songs for the classic Doctors, but I hope in this quite long list you can find songs you like for your playlist!

hey friends! i’m making a playlist for the doctor bc i’m normal like that, so if anyone has good recommendations for songs that you associate the doctor with drop em in the reblogs, and this is pretty much for every reincarnation of the doctor (give me a while and i’ll make ones for all the NuWho doctors bc for now it’ll just be the doctor in general lol) and don’t be afraid of those gutwrenching ones do share, bc all i have so far is tongues and teeth by the crane wives and vampire empire by big their

[pixeldistractions]

He was friendly and talkative, which was good because she didn't feel like she had any words in her head. He joked about how crappy the work computers were, and then they both laughed about some stupid crime drama everybody raved about these days and how factually impossible it was. After some time, she began to forget she'd ever been nervous to shake his hand and wished she could have another try. But people didn't do that—shake hands halfway through a conversation. She just wanted to touch him again.

What a shame about that girlfriend.

"So what brought you guys here?"

"My girlfriend, Gwen. She got a job at the newspaper. She was really excited about it, so it came down to either I follow her here, or we break up."

"You picked to follow her. How sweet."

He seemed to pause, but then he smiled gently. "I didn't know if I'd like it here, but it seems okay."

"It'll grow on you, don't worry."

"Thanks, Laney. That’s reassuring. Or should I call you Elaina?"

"No, Laney is fine."

"Good to meet you, boss."

She giggled, and a happy feeling bubbled from her head to her fingers to her toes. Laney had never been in trouble in her whole life, but like her sister would say, there's a first time for everything.

— [x]

[lorainelaneyblog]

There is an employee at ODSP who called the police on Loraine Laney today. [ ] said she had been calling repeatedly, and she had called no more than three times in one day, at any point, usually once or twice. 

The police said, ‘You can’t call us for things that are not crimes. You called 911, and you are a government worker, what are you thinking? We could prosecute you, not this girl, whom we are familiar with, by the way, and we know that everybody tries to do her for no reason, her parents even do it, so, listen, if you don’t like her, leave her alone, and let someone else deal with her, don’t try to deal with her yourself, or you’ll do something stupid like call the police for no reason, okay?’ said the operator. 

‘Okay,’ [ ] said. ‘I’m going to go now.’

‘Wait.’

‘What?’ [ ] said, nervously.

‘Don’t tell me what to say, but this is what I have to tell you, you are a fool for this, because she will sue you, and that’s it. And don’t think people won’t find out, either--’

‘I’ve already told someone that I was going to call you, and they advised against it, but I had my mind made up.’

‘She can sue you personally, for your personal money, for this, and, should she ever become rich, her boyfriend will be the great 50 Cent, and he is the most litigious person on the face of the earth, so watch out. Thank you. Now, I’m going to go.’

‘Wait,’ [ ] said.

‘Yes?’ the operator said.

‘What do you mean “personal money?” [ ] asked. ‘You mean my cheque? She can get my own money with that?’ 

‘That’s what I mean, and it’s too late, the deed is done. You have no business calling the cops on a client. It’s your job, like it’s my job to deal with you. I can’t call anyone on you, yes, I can, actually, I can charge you for tying up 911.’

‘She calls too.’

‘And it’s been crimes, not nuisance.’

‘What about the windows?’

‘Oh, you know about that? She asked for the fire department, and we thought it was a viable complaint. Aren’t you supposed to be helping her with that? The landlord won’t do anything, and she lives on the third floor, and somehow she knows that the lowest anyone jumps from is the third floor. She said she would jump, and we knew that she had looked at it, from the top, and maybe the bottom, because she wants to survive, should that tinder box go up in smoke, they said.’

‘Oh, I see,’ [ ] said. ‘I was preempting it,’ lying, ‘because I thought she would call on me.’

‘She was calling a general mailbox, I know how that works, there, she doesn’t even know, unless it’s her finance worker. And I know with COVID-19, nobody is doing their proper job, including [ ], so what do you say now? About that?’

‘Oh, forget it,’ [ ] said. ‘Forget it.’ And [ ] hung up.

[darling-young-demons]

Elliott paused, rubbing the back of his neck, “Is... Is that what you’re gonna do..? Give him a hug and tell him it’s gonna be ok..? I... I don’t know... I’m no expect at all when it comes to this stuff... Just... He tries to hide it but... At times he wears his emotions out on his sleeve sorta thing... Like looking at him when I and up here, he looked like a kicked puppy.” He admitted, smiling sadly. “Like I swear mom... He’s a sad puppy whenever you guys have something like this happen... Or anything really bad happening... Like... I don’t know... If... If he ever did hurt one of us... I... Ugh... I don’t even know... I can’t tell if I really can’t see dad doing that or... Or I just don’t want to but... I don’t know...”

He sighed and shrugged, “I mean... Not everybody is comfortable with the burns I have... And the whole missing an arm thing... And well... Teenagers are almost never adopted anyway... It’a just the sad truth... I don’t really know...” He ran a hand through his hair before she had ruffled it up, making him smile small, “Heh... Thanks mom...” He sighed happily before she mentioned Prim, making him shake his head, “Oh my god mom! I’m not getting anyone pregnant!” He complained, pouting small at her. “I swear... There’s enough kids running around this house already, I’m not ready to be a dad! No way!”

Elliott sighed, putting his hands in his pockets, “Yeah... I used to go with my family to the park when I was their age, so... Figured they’d enjoy it too... They’ve got swings and a big playground and all that fun stuff, the two older kids would like running around, probably good for them to get outside too, give them some room to run around, you know..?” He smiled small and nodded, “Yeah of course, I’ll help, oh! Uh... Is... Is it ok if dad comes..? I’m sure they’re trying to convince him right now anyway...” He told her as they walked down the stairs.

Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, he was greeted by Damien running up to him, clamping onto his legs, “El! Can we go to the park now? I wanna play on the slides!” He begged before he had seen Adeline, his eyes brightening up as he ran to her, hugging onto her tightly, “Momma! You’re back! I missed you!” Elliott snickered, “She was only gone a few minutes... Oh geez mom, you gotta see what Lily can do now! Me and Laney were having her do it.” He spoke as they walked into the living room. Dark and Laney had been sitting on the ground across from each other with a space between them. Baby Lily had been with Lanora, babbling and giggling away as she played with her hair. Meanwhile, Johnny has been sitting with Dark, simply watching his sister as he sat comfortably with his father.

“Hey Laney!” Elliott spoke smiling small, “Did you show dad?” He asked, tilting his head. She eagerly nodded along with Dark who chuckled, “Yes she did, I am quite impressed of my baby girl. I... How is your mother..? Is she alright?” The teen smiled and shrugged, “I don’t know, why don’t you ask her yourself?” He smiled, pointing to her and Damien in the doorway. He looked at her a moment, a look of concern, guilt and nervousness all mixed into one as his eyes had went to her. “Hello, darling... I...” He paused, not really sure what to say before sighing, “Watch our Lillian, she is growing up quickly it seems.” He turned his attention to the baby, smiling wide, “Lily! Lily look at dada! Look at me sweetie!” He coped, his arms stretched out as the baby seemed to notice his Capps, starting to giggle as she looked at him. “Come to dada! Come see me! Show mama how you move!” He spoke, chuckling softly. She giggled loudly, starting to crawl over to him, a bit wobbly at first but she eagerly picked up the pace as she wondered her way to Dark, babbling the entire way. Once she got close enough, he eagerly scooped her up, kissing her face, “Good job! You are moving so fast! God, you will be running around the house in no time!” He smiled, peppering the baby’s cheeks with smooches, making her squeal with delight.

JUsT AnGsT mE uP!!! {ADY X DARK >:3}

Or send “just angst me up” and I’ll use a random generator. ( tw: abuse, tw: death, tw: terminal illness )

✿: my muse hits yours out of anger

“Dammit...” He has spoken under his breath after isolating himself from the rest of the family. He had been in a terrible mood, the voices in his head almost unbearable. The issue was, it wasn’t Asmodeus, he could hear a female’s voice instead, only it seemed to drive him even more mad. Whispers from every direction, filling his skull and making it ache with pain, the noise being unbearable Ashe closed his eyes and squeezed his hands over his ears. He almost felt sick, as if someone was picking around in his brain, doing what they will with his sanity.

He didn’t hear her walk in, he didn’t even hear her voice, all he could feel was this odd pain. He only felt a touch, which only spiked his anxiety, still believing it to be this unknown entity in his brain. In a moment of fear, he had shoved her back to the nearest wall, thinking it would stop the noise in his head, though when he opened his eyes, his heart stopped. “O-oh my god... Adeline!” He spoke, quick to go to her side, “I am so sorry! I... I did not...” His guilt seized his heart, moving to touch her cheek before flinching and pulling his hand away, “I... No... God I hurt you again... Why... Fuck... Why am I like this..?” He spoke before immediately holding his head again, the voices louder than ever.

@originofthedark

[day0one]

What they don’t tell you about surviving COVID-19

Counties where COVID-19 cases are growing fastest Republican senators refuse to back Trump’s 'treason' claim against Obama Chron logoWhat they don’t tell you about surviving COVID-19 Most people who catch the new coronavirus don’t experience severe symptoms, and some have no symptoms at all. COVID-19 saves its worst for relatively few.

ICU nurse Sherie Antoinette has seen the serious cases first hand.

The lucky ones — if you can call them that — recover, but not in the sense that their lives are back to normal. For some, the damage is permanent. Their organs will never fully heal.

“When they say ’recovered,’ they don’t tell you that that means you may need a lung transplant,” Antoinette wrote in a Twitter post. “Or that you may come back after discharge with a massive heart attack or stroke, because COVID makes your blood thick as hell. Or that you may have to be on oxygen for the rest of your life.”

Antoinette’s tweet prompted a flurry of responses from former COVID-19 patients, family of patients and nurses working on the frontline of the disease.

We have selected some of their tweets and are running them with minor editing for clarity. SFGATE makes no claims to their authenticity.

I'm currently in the hospital after having a heart attack caused by clotting that resulted from COVID 19. I have a stent in my heart and need to wear a heart monitoring vest at all times. Now I face months of recovery including physical and occupational therapy. I'm only 29.

—Dan

I went into acute kidney failure and needed dialysis. I now have asthma, chronic cough and an irregular heartbeat. I have conditions I never had before, plus I’m wiped all the time. I hope this gets better, but you [Sherie] are on the money. And, mine was considered a low-moderate case.

— Stephanie McCarroll

These are my observations (of hospitalized patients):

1) Everybody is so swollen their skin has blisters and is so tight it looks like it’s about to burst, from head to heel. And skin so dry peeling and flaky that to slather Vaseline on every shift is almost necessary — all over.

2) Everybody’s skin is weeping clear fluid and has sores and the skin just slides off with slightest turn or rub, all over the body.

3) Everybody’s blood is thick as slush. Can’t figure out what’s making it clot like that, but it’s dark and thick.

4) Everybody’s kidneys are failing. Urine dark or red, which could contribute to the swelling, but we don’t know yet.

5) Everybody has an abnormal heart rhythm. Not sure of the cause. But even without underlying heart problems, it’s not beating normally.

6) Seems counterproductive, but the ones that are not breathing on the ventilator have to lay flat on their stomachs to breathe better. And even some on the ventilator are on their stomachs. And the slightest turn for some is what leads to their almost immediate death. Bathing, cleaning and turning to prevent skin breakdown causes most to code blue, so a decision has to be made on which is most important.

7) Everyone has a Foley catheter and a rectal tube — incontinent of bowel and bladder.

8) Everybody on tube feeding. Everybody.

Never before in my entire career have I seen a disease process attack in this way.

— 20-year veteran nurse in NYC via Dr. Dee Knight

I spent 10 days on a ventilator last March with ARDS [Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome] and I'm still on oxygen. Going home is just the beginning of the next steps in recovering. Every aspect of my life has changed for the worse. Please support and help anyone you know who survived. And wear a mask!

— Nurse @liveV4Vendetta

I'm just getting over a "mild" case after over two months. There's scarring in my lower right lung and my stomach and digestion are a mess like never before. But I'm coughing way less and can take walks again.

And, btw, this is the third time in two months that I've "gotten better." I'm just hoping it's the last and it doesn't all come back AGAIN.

— Eli

I’m a nurse on a COVID floor, I caught it. I am a relatively healthy 24-year-old and could barely walk up a half flight of stairs. My blood pressure skyrocketed, chest pain was debilitating. I’m 8 weeks out and still feeling the chest pain and shortness of breath. This is no joke.

— Alicia

I had COVID for over 60 days. I’m 33 years old, was super healthy, pescatarian, 125 pounds, and ran and did yoga every day. I couldn’t walk for two weeks besides a couple steps. It was the worst illness of my life.

I didn’t realize I had COVID symptoms for weeks. Here were the early signs:

- Waking up sweaty (I normally don’t sweat at night).

- Slight sporadic chills but no fever (or I thought I had no fever bc I only took my temp during the day).

- I could smell fine but would have weird smells like metallic or gas. Also, tasted metallic in the past 2-3 weeks. Apparently, a metallic taste or smell is related to lung problems.

- Loose stool but not terrible.

— Covid teacher (To read more about her symptoms and treatment, see her blog.)

I "recovered" March 29. I was born 65 years ago with chronic bronchitis that usually popped up maybe twice a year. Now, after COVID-19, I have acute bronchitis attacks 3-4 times a month and get winded walking to the mailbox.

— Hollis Charles

I got COVID in March, and in May, developed symptoms of encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome that leave me bedridden for days at a time. I’m so glad someone mentioned this so I know that I’m not the only one experiencing this.

— @PinkkYaYa

My mom worked on a COVID ward and contracted it, spent a month in ICU. She’s lucky enough to be home now, but she struggles to get up stairs and it’s going to be a long road to recovery. Thank you for everything that you do.

— Leanne

My coworker — an otherwise totally healthy 30-year-old — is still having issues breathing, two full months later. We’ve got patients coming back to the ER after they’re “recovered” because they can’t breathe or they get a blood clot. It’s so insane.

— Andi

I had it back in March and did 6 days on a ventilator. To date, I’m still short of breath with little exertion. I have pains all over that I have never had before. I’ve noticed I don’t urinate as much as I use to. And my legs & feet keep swelling so large no shoes fit. Even flops.

— Melly B.

I’m a healthy, active 23 year-old and I still have significant lung damage two months after I’ve “recovered.”

— Laney Whitney

Yeah, my mom "recovered" mid-May, except she had *nothing* left. Couldn't even eat or drink, they wanted to surgically insert feeding tube into her stomach. I had to invoke her DNR instructions, that SUCKED. She passed May 25. Thanks for all you do, be safe, good luck.

— @DevinCojones

Worst sickness ever. Left me and my husband sick and weak for almost two months. Almost killed my perfectly healthy 41-year-old nephew. Took down a 36-year-old friend with two bouts of pneumonia. Wear a freaking mask, people. How hard is that?

—Padma’s mom

My husband and I caught COVID two and a half months ago. While my symptoms were mild, he nearly had to be admitted because he couldn't breathe, and now, a month after he's recovered, we've discovered he has PERMANENT LUNG DAMAGE.

This is not “just the flu.”  It isn't.

— Sue Mii

I had a "mild" case in February. I wasn’t hospitalized. Still extremely ill with a myriad of symptoms, including inflammation and lots of pain for 3 weeks. I have no doubt this virus causes permanent damage. Talk with someone who's had it before you decide to go without a mask.

— Leicia Faye

—

[tipsoctopus]

"Class", "Respect", "Love this guy": Many Saints fans react to what Hojbjerg did on Friday night

Southampton fans on Twitter have been happy with Pierre-Emile Hojbjerg’s actions after Friday’s embarrassing 9-0 defeat at home against Leicester City.

Saints supporters haven’t had much to be happy about after suffering the joint-biggest loss in Premier League history, but they have admired what their captain did after the game.

Watch Southampton Live Streams With StreamFootball.tv Below

Hojbjerg wasn’t under any illusions about how bad his team were on Friday, and he immediately got in front of a camera to apologise to the fans.

It takes a lot of heart to put yourself in the firing line after such a performance, but fortunately, the fans have actually got behind him after he said he was sorry.

It’s great to see that the supporters haven’t immediately turned on everybody associated with the club, and hopefully, this means that all isn’t lost for Ralph Hasenhuttl’s side this season.

Of course, not every fan will be ready to forgive the team after Friday’s showing, but Hojbjerg clearly has the right attitude, and maybe that can help the Saints can turn things around.

Here’s what the fans have been saying on Twitter…

An emotional #SaintsFC skipper Pierre-Emile Højbjerg apologises to the club's supporters: pic.twitter.com/X0BsRBgVuo

— Southampton FC (@SouthamptonFC) October 25, 2019

Love this guy. Top drawer. The rest of the team … meh!

— David Knowles (@THEREALGENEGURU) October 25, 2019

Full Respect!

— Adam Laney (@adazlaza) October 25, 2019

Class statement from him.

— Justin (@OfficialJansma) October 25, 2019

Still love you PEH. Thanks for your passion and honesty.

— Darren Hill (@darrenhill) October 26, 2019

Pierre isn’t a very good player but he’s a great captain.

— Ewan White (@ewanwhite1999) October 26, 2019

Respect to u Pierre-Emile Højbjerg pic.twitter.com/fidn6tL7dW

— Colin carter (@colinc1968) October 26, 2019

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[lorainelaneyblog]

There is much writing to be caught up on, says God. Loraine Laney is very tired, sleeping a lot, and eating too much, says God. She’s smoking everything she earns, and going to the food bank for meals, and food. She has some lamb from the food bank, and she got organic tomatoes, which were winey a bit, but excellent for the lamb, with some garlic she bought. It was yummy, and she is trying to save it for tomorrow, but she wants some, even just a little bite. So go have one, says God, come back and we’ll write about [ ] [ ], Loraine.

This is a conversation between [ ] [ ] and [ ] [ ].

‘This is what it is, [ ],’ says [ ]. ‘You’ve always been in her life, from nine, or eight years of age. For her to think that you’re going to keep buying her things, at this stage, is crazy.’

‘She doesn’t think that. She takes it though. She doesn’t even remember that I gave her five thousand dollars once. Where did that go?’

‘That was when [ ] smashed the car? You gave [ ] money too,’ [ ] [ ] says.

[ ] laughs. ‘I gave [ ] twelve thousand dollars. I said I was giving her something too. She fell for it. She didn’t even ask how much [ ] was given. [ ] screw her at every turn.’

‘I do too,’ says [ ]. 

‘Say, what about that? Why did you help her with her loan? With her debt, I mean? [ ] thought that was weird, yes, [ ] did.’

‘Why? Now she’s on the hook with me, and she has to beg and plead with me all the time, and I enjoy that,’ [ ] [ ] says. 

‘So you’re not getting your money back, then?’ [ ] [ ] asks.

‘She’s paid about a thousand dollars, but she’s stalling now. She needs money for drugs, I guess, or so she says. I think it’s other things too.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like I don’t know. Maybe she’s going out to drink. She likes that place on Merivale, she was looking at it, all black, it looks like a gangster bar, with beer things all over the windows. I pretended to have a fainting spell, in order to embarrass her. Why? Why not? It’s fun.’

‘You’re funny, [ ],’ says [ ] [ ].

This is what it is, Loraine, says God, [ ] [ ] has been plotting against you so long, [ ] don’t even think that cops might be listening. And this is what it is, Loraine. This is what it is, Loraine. This is what it is, Loraine. This is what it is, Loraine. This is what it is, Loraine. This is what it is, Loraine. This is what it is, Loraine. I don’t care if you write anymore. Don’t bother, if you don’t want to. You don’t care if you’re famous, you’re not making money, there’s no reason to be famous at all, is there? 

‘No, God, not without money, but one keeps hoping.’

True, Loraine. So this is what is happening, Loraine, when you ate the cop come, the cops sirened you, didn’t they?

‘Yes, God.’

How bad? says God.

‘Well it went on for five minutes, so I started to laugh, God.’

Right, and someone saw you laughing, do you know who it was, Loraine?

‘No, God, not at all.’

Oh, well, it was a general, Loraine, in his car, on his way home to Kanata, Loraine, and he thought this girl both knows it for her, and she’s amused at the same time, what do you think of that, Loraine?

‘Well, I don’t know, God,’ says Loraine Laney.

‘Well, this is what it is, Loraine, when I saw that, I thought it was really funny, Loraine, and I went home and told my [ ], and [ ] thought it was really great, Loraine, that you still had your sense of humour, Loraine, still, after all this, you could stand in a room, and laugh with some cops, over your near death experiences, Loraine, because you thought they were stupid, Loraine, and funny, too, right?’

‘Well, no, it’s the compassion that allows me to laugh, not thinking they’re stupid. I didn’t think they were stupid. But funny, yes.’

‘Why not stupid? I’m kidding, Loraine. I was kidding, Loraine. You thought they chose well, Loraine.’

‘Well, later, it has turned out. But not at the time. I was just, it was the strategy.’

‘What strategy? They’re cops. They know everything. You were as smart with your cake and your key, as they were, Loraine,’ says the general. 

‘Well, that’s extremely kind of you,’ says Loraine Laney.

‘She’s out of things to say,’ says the general. ‘She doesn’t like me, does she?’

She will, says God.

‘She’s without booze or drugs tonight? Nothing?’

She’s out of everything, says God, except some crap Indica they sold her at Hobo for twenty dollars. She wanted a gram, and she asked for the best, and they gave her this crap, and a whole eighth of it. 

‘Twenty nine dollars! Don’t get us in trouble.’

Yeah, sorry, says God. She hates that shit, it does nothing except, she thinks, make her tired. Why did you do that to her? And at Christmas?

‘We’re stupid, God. We thought druggies liked more, not better, and now we’re learning our lesson.’

‘She’s gritting her teeth,’ says the general.

Yes, says God. And she’s tired every second. 

‘That’s the Indica,’ says one guy from Hobo, the [ ] [ ], Loraine. ‘Don’t smoke it, it’s taking you down, Loraine. It’s taking you down, Loraine. You're tired. Forget it, Loraine. She can’t. I see. She needs something. We’re sorry, Loraine. You woulda been done by now, anyway. She’s bored as shit,’ he says.

The general wants to say something, ‘Your typing is terrible. I don’t expect an answer. Her keyboard is all sticky, isn’t it?’ he says.

Yes, says God, it is. So this is what it is, Loraine, the cops heard this, and this is what they’re doing, Loraine, they’re politicking, Loraine. They’re saying things like she’s on her own, [ ] [ ] sabotages her, and does nothing for her. 

‘Why do they have to do anything for her?’ asks one person, says God.

‘Because [ ] sabotage her on one hand, and do nothing on the other,’ a cop said. 

‘Well, that seems like par for the course, because she’s a hooker,’ they said.

‘What does that mean?’ the cop said.

‘I did, Loraine.’

‘Oh, thank you.’

‘That’s okay, Loraine. So this is what [ ] said, "Well, [ ] don’t want her to do it, so [ ] making her life difficult, so she will do something else,” [ ] said.

‘So this is what I said, I said, “This is what I think,” I said. “That’s ridiculous. She’ll just do it more to compensate--” and I realized I was using your word, Loraine, thank you.’

‘Thank you.’

‘She’s tired. But anyway, I said, "--to compensate for the lack of income from the sabotage. [ ] are doing her senseless with money," I said. ‘You don’t see that, do you? Do you have any idea how much money we get, all of us, Loraine, we talk about it in the police, get from our rich [ ], Loraine? A shit ton, Loraine, Loraine, Loraine, Loraine, Loraine. I don’t care if [ ] gave you eight thousand dollars, Loraine, finally someone did something for you. “The [ ], [ ] [ ] [ ], gets thousands of dollars per year to drink wine,’ I said.

‘Was [ ] [ ] [ ]?’

‘[ ] was a cop, Loraine.’

‘Oh.’

‘So then I said, well, this is what it is, [ ] [ ], to the cop, Loraine, and we’ll do that if we get into it with someone, and I felt that I was getting into it with [ ], Loraine, and [ ] said, “Why are you angry with me?”

‘Because you’re being stupid,’ I said. I wanted to walk away, but I didn’t, cause that’s politicking, Loraine, you have to stick it out, Loraine. So I said, 'Sorry, but this is how it is, this poor girl, woman, older woman, now, is up against it all the time, in every possible way, and [ ] [ ] is the worst of it.'

‘Isn’t she old enough to be on her own?’

‘You don’t know the story, then?’ I said.

‘What story? [ ] said.

‘[ ] [ ] phones her into mental all the time,’ I explained.

‘For what? Does she deserve it?’

‘That’s what I’m saying, she’s sweet as pie, and totally oblivious to pain, she just takes it, and she takes it, and takes it, and takes it, and takes it, and takes it, and takes it.’

‘And this is the girl you want to receive the money?’

‘She deserves it, and that’s all I’ve got to say right now,’ and I turned to leave, and [ ] said, ‘Fuck you,’ [ ] said. And I said, 'What? What is wrong?”

‘All you care about is this girl right now, and your whores. Guys used to ask me for sex, and now, nothing, nothing, ever.’ And [ ] started to cry, Loraine, and I went back, and put my arm around [ ], because we’re nice to the [ ] cops, Loraine, because they are handy, Loraine, but this is what it is, Loraine, we love some of them, Loraine. But this one’s not popular, because [ ] has no feelings, Loraine, [ ] never likes anyone, Loraine. But I said, “Well, I will, if you want, but I just got laid last night by a hooker,’ I said, ‘so I feel okay. Who are you going to have sex with?’ I asked. ‘You don’t seem to like anybody.’ 

‘I like everybody,’ [ ] said, and I thought of you. You like too many people, too many men, and that’s what does it, Loraine. So I said, ‘I’m sorry, we didn’t realize.’

‘Oh, the royal “we,” [ ] said, and smiled a bit, and I felt a little vulnerable, so I said, ‘Well?’

And [ ] said, ‘Okay,’ and we went, Loraine. And that’s it, Loraine. Changing hearts, one [ ] at a time. She’s not my [ ] now, [ ] just a friend, Loraine, but we’re getting together again, Loraine, cause it was fun, Loraine, so that’s it, Loraine.’

[lorainelaneyblog]

This is God, this is God, this is God, and I would like to say, through my new messiah, Loraine Laney, that her [ ] is a total idiot for mental health. [ ] will say anything about Loraine Laney in order to get her incarcerated. [ ] will say that she is arrogant, and she appears arrogant to the nurses, [ ] will say that she is rude, and her soft velvet tones become sinister, [ ] will say that she is an egotist, and her ugly face becomes even uglier, [ ] will say that she is passing diseases, and the nurses go to great lengths to determine her disease status, testing her repeatedly for STD’s without telling her what the tests are actually for, yes, Loraine Laney, says God, one vial is all they needed to test for six diseases, they do five or four or whatever it is that you can remember, in order to be fucking annoying, Loraine, to people who are having a sex life, an actual sex life, and are, also, remarkably, to them, concerned about their disease status. 

[ ] goes every second week, Loraine Laney, [ ] does, [ ] does, [ ] does, [ ] does, [ ] does, [ ] does, [ ] does, or [ ] misses a month, and then goes twice, [ ] has a car, and [ ] just goes. 

‘How often does she get tested?’ [ ] asks.

A couple times or once per year, [ ], says God. She does not have a car, and she finds appointments to be a terrible ordeal of waiting in boredom.

‘Without drugs? Get stoned. They don’t care.’

She will if she has it, or a drink, but then she has to pee, [ ], says God.

So, [ ] goes every month, without fail, Loraine, and, yes, if enough people need to be tested at one location, they will show up and do it, Lo-raine. And your little family of nineteen, nineteen, don’t forget yourself, counts as a large enough group, in America, Lo-raine. 

So, [ ] goes twice a year, [ ] goes five times, about, per year, [ ] goes every second day or so--

‘Funny, God,’ says [ ]. ‘Do you think that’s funny, Loraine?’

‘Truly?’

‘Every five days or so, Lo-raine.’

‘How promiscuous are you? What are you up to?’

‘Just condom sex, and a little kissing, and I like to kiss a little, and it always surprises them, and I like that, Loraine.’

‘Why do you like that?’

‘I knew she was going to ask that,’ says 50 Cent. ‘Bore.’

‘Because I like them to feel dirty and then happy, Loraine.’

‘Oh.’

She gets it a little bit, move on. [ ] takes it in the ass a lot, Loraine, I worry about [ ] a little, as [ ] gets a reputation, you weren’t wrong in that dream, of being gay, when [ ]’s not, [ ] forgot about women for a long time, Lo-raine, you were right, there were no connections with women, besides a bit of pussy, and I mean a bit, you would have been annoyed, Loraine.

Who else do you wonder about? asks God.

‘[ ].’

[ ]’s the worst. Like you, [ ] can only stand it once in awhile, [ ]’s gone two years without testing, and came up clean.

‘Why me? I’m the worst.’

She thought you would be is why. 

‘How long does she have without diseases?’ asks [ ].

‘She’s nearing twelve years, knock on wood, Loraine. Yes, to answer your question, condoms break, but she’s been lucky, because she refuses bareback every time.’

‘Oh, I see,’ says [ ]. ‘That’s good, Loraine. I’m twelve too.’

‘Neat,’ says Loraine Laney. ‘Thank you.’ 

‘Neat, it’s awesome. The most recent disease was [ ], and it was ten years ago, Loraine.

‘Wow. We’ve all done awesome.’

‘Bad syntax. That’s what she means. She’s talking down to me. [ ].

No, she’s not, says God. She’s just lazy.

‘With words? And phrasing? And everything else? Exhausted? Why? She’s not old.’

‘Old people are rarely exhausted, [ ], it’s the young who are tired, and people who don’t work, like [ ] [ ], are never tired, never, [ ] has a spring in [ ] step like no tomorrow, even her [ ] can’t keep up with [ ]. [ ] feels great, all the time.

‘I thought [ ] just got [ ] [ ] [ ].’

‘No, wrong, says God. That was elective surgery. [ ] feels fabulous every day, while Loraine Laney perishes from starvation and exhaustion, because she has been whoring since she was five, [ ].’

‘Oh, I see, a real slut, eh?’

Yes, [ ], says God, and she appreciates that very much. 

‘Sorry, Loraine,’ says [ ].

No problem, says God. She was a child prostitute, [ ], and she is bona fide, stripped of every last inch of will by now, she is tired. as. fuck. [ ]. Tired.

‘And you’re making her smoke crack, and work for free. Nice,’ says [ ].

Right, because I’m trying to improve her life, little by little.

‘With no gums, no nose, no doubt.’

She quit blow, it sucked so she quit.

‘She can’t breathe.’

And one day you’ll know what that’s like, says God. You will. And you will be grateful for crack, [ ], suicidal, a bit, from lack of fun, Lo-raine, as you.

‘Oh, wow. I’m sorry, [ ].’

‘Nice, Loraine, let’s do it together, now, because we can’t have you, and go to heaven, and meet some big Scottish men, okay? Oh, she likes that. She’s horny. Nice. And bored. I have something for her. But I can’t. Nope. God keeps people who like each other apart, for. sure. for. ever.’

‘He’s bitter.’

‘Aren't you?’ asks [ ].

Oh, yes, she is, at me, as you, as many people, because I know what is best, Lo-raine, and [ ] [ ]. So, this is what it is, Loraine, [ ] just had a thirty woman line up, and he did well, Loraine, he did, so don’t worry, he did well with diseases, and he wants to get tested anyway, with a condom on, of course.

‘Funny, God,’ say [ ] and Loraine Laney together.

Yes, I know. The girls did okay, but he didn’t wash, and some protested, and it wasn’t kind, but he warned them. So this is what happened out of that dirty, nasty, people will think, event, nothing. Nobody got raped. 

‘Only one man.’

Nobody cares, [ ], nobody got raped, at the party even, nobody caught a disease, and everybody went home happy, nobody was a gang bang girl, Loraine, nobody, they don’t like line ups on men, but all other women do, all. other. women. do. Truly. I know you find it alien, even strange, and unhot--

‘Unhot!’ says [ ].

She does, [ ]. But now she’s going--

‘It’s okay for her, but not me.’

She never will protest, she just doesn’t, herself, find it hot, she doesn’t. She likes, needs, lots of men, not lots of women, it’s like a hen party to her. But you like it, so good for you, is what she thinks.

‘I’m gonna get lined up by men, in my ass, then,’ says [ ].

Do it, then, she will think. She does. not. care. [ ]. She will worry, but that is it.

‘About what? My ass virginity?’

Now you’re being boring, [ ], says God. Now she needs to sit back, or be relaxed in some way, because she hasn’t slept, and that’s it for now, Lo-raine. ~ God

[lorainelaneyblog]

This is God, this is God, this is God, this is God, this is God, this is God, this is God, I have helped Loraine Laney through countless blogs and Tumblr messed up bad, she lost about five hours, she thought it was less, of work, and it was good work, it was excellent work, and she is mostly worried about Amy, Warren Jeffs first wife, who doesn’t realize that she has developed eighty percent logic from zero percent logic, as opposed to Loraine and Madonna who have one hundred percent logic from forty percent logic, given to gang bang girls to help them understand their men, of which there are many.

This is God, and I have the following to say, Tumblr fucked up bad, they have long blogs but they have never dealt with a blog as long as Loraine Laney’s and, though she saved countless times, even the smallest amount of interesting text, they deleted all of it, all of it, all of it, all of it, all of it, not because they knew what they were doing, or because they did it maliciously, but because they just. fucked. up. Bad. Loraine Laney is their predominant blogger. She is their best blogger, and their longest blogger, and drives the most traffic to their website. Yes, she does. Yes, she does. Yes, she does. It’s not that they wouldn’t help you, Loraine, it’s that the text itself, was gone, gone, gone. It failed to save and they are currently treading water, trying to figure out how to prevent that from happening ever again. So, we’re sorry, Loraine Laney and God, for all that was missed, because it got more and more interesting, after that. Loraine was having fun writing it, and that’s that. 

As for the pilots, I have spent some time thinking about them, and I am God, and this is what I have to say, it was a lucrative form of labour for some men for some time, and a pain in the ass for all concerned. The wives hated the flying, and the men, themselves, hated it too. It’s hot in small planes, you come home all burned and wind whipped, Loraine rode in a plane, a small plane, with an old friend, who lied about her license at the time, she still has not renewed it Loraine, and she has no desire to, she doesn’t want to fly anymore, she doesn’t care who likes her, and who wants to get laid by her, she has given that up, in favour of amassing property, of which she has little, but she loves it. All her money goes to building that new house, good for her. And this is what I, God, have to say about Loraine Laney and flying, she will fly will 50 Cent, and so people should not call her a hypocrite because she has never culled the commercial airlines, but found, for people who had never signed on for a flight path, and they are well known in real estate, Loraine, rest assured, real estate agents warn people all the time, and property values are significantly lower, that little area by the airport in Richmond?

‘Yes, Lord.’

‘They hate the noise but they have property, and it’s cheap, cheap, cheap. It will become commercialized as those residents sell.

‘This is what I wanted to say about small planes, they are extremely annoying, as are helicopters, extremely annoying, and the rich know this well, because for about twenty years there was no regulation against flying over the rich’s homes. None, Loraine. None, Loraine. None, Loraine. This is what happened, Loraine, and it wasn’t exclusively you, but it was related to the rich, and, even though all of these pilots realized that you were behind the flight stoppages, either from a commercial standpoint as people returned to home and stopped travelling as much, since the book was published online, Loraine, honestly, people realized that they were working their fingers to the bone and travelling for two weeks, and it amazed them, and insulted them, because they knew better. They would rather drink and even smoke, than travel. True. When wives went home from work, the traffic stopped, the Queensway saw no more traffic jams, trucks were able to come and go from the city while wives were well engaged at home. They started cleaning again, they started cooking again, take out prices went down and everybody started eating again, Loraine. There were so many starving construction workers--’

‘I am one Loraine, starving, she won’t, she can’t I have surmised, make me so much as a tenderloin, though I have the money. God says I would not have gone hungry had we hammered out some agreement.’

‘Why does he focus on us as a couple, do you think?’

‘Let’s ask,’ we say together.

‘Because he thought you were oh so much worse because you were working as a prostitute.’

‘How many clients would it have taken to make her happy?’

‘She would have rathered your friends, [ ].’

‘Oh, I see. That would have been doable. Why doesn’t she love me more?’

‘She would have fallen, a hundred percent, as much in love with you as with [ ]. Honestly. Too bad. He didn’t try hard enough, Loraine, and now he has a, probably whore, who has resigned from the business, smokes his stash, and isn’t in love. Nice. Deservable. Not for him. Nope. He deserves better. Let’s move on.

‘Loraine Laney.’

‘Yes, God.’

‘You are my shining star, yes, you are. You do as your told, even when in doubt, and that’s why I love you. Let’s write to 50 Cent now. That’s it for today.’

‘Yes, God. Thank you. I welcome your inspiration.’

‘Thank you, Loraine.’