#I knew life was going to be different when I left treatment so I gotta respect her choices wishes and boundaries

[episbep]

rehab day twenty seven

I’ve been promoted to advanced! primary treatment completed 👌

I’ve been all over the place emotionally again today, i started the day feeling chirpy and chatty, meditation was all about “inches in front of your face” and the childish members of the group (myself included) got the giggles and kept setting each other off. The CA Hospitals & Institutions share was really good actually (usually they’re really same-y - life in active addiction was hectic, they got clean with the help of the program and fellowship now they’re clean and sober life is much better) but I was rly sleepy and antisocial after we left the centre so had a 2 hr nap when we eventually got back to the house and felt functional again☺️ we met up with some of the other houses and had a BBQ karaoke sesh on the beach - me and flex parked our towels beside each other and just chatted the whole afternoon away, laughing and flirting in the sun just having a good time, I really think I like him and he’s got a good head on his shoulders, a positive attitude, cheeky sense of humour and the conversation just flows, I feel like I’ve known him ages and nothings really off limits; we chat about any and everything and it just feels good! We listened to music and sung along, some of the lads cooked burgers and sausages on the BBQs, was probably the best social thing I’ve done here so far, really was lush🫶✨ when the sun started to fade we went back to the house and ordered Chinese (paid for by the centre as our prize for being chosen as house of the week!) and had a bullshit, then me and flex facetimedfor a couple hours just chatting away about all sorts, and my housemate walked in (without knocking!!!) and literally screamed and couldn’t breathe from laughing so hard cos I was laid on my bed completely naked🙈 I’m never gonna live that down lmao (flex couldn’t see anything on the call, but my housemate did see my 🍑)

gratitude list, goals for tomorrow, bed x

[melishade]

prompt # 23

This ask game

Marco getting his wounds checked out after Part 5: Airachnid Arc in the War Timeline. Also this is the written out scene: #31

Marco still felt pain in his head, even days after he received medical treatment after the debacle with Airachnid. It was the first time any of them had encountered a metal titan that was hostile and deadly, but Jack's initial panic had indicated that more like her were here on their world, and they would stop at nothing to destroy the Autobots, and in turn, them.

They knew they had to deal with Airachnid, no matter how reluctant Marco's group was after Jack's description, but they couldn't let Airachnid return to the Decepticons with whatever she had discovered. They were successful in stopping her, but Airachnid had ripped out Marco's right eye for the fun of it. The thought still gave him vivid nightmares, and there were still phantom pains, but he was still alive, and that was something that he should be grateful for. Not to mention, Airachnid was successfully contained due to Jean and Mikasa's efforts.

Marco blinked a little bit when a strange light was flashed in his left eye. His vision cleared when he saw the Autobot medic's human form examine his vision before looking at the stitches that covered his right eye socket.

"I know my knowledge on human anatomy is still developing," Ratchet began as he turned off the flashlight, "But your wounds seem to be healing naturally. No signs of infection or inflammation. A few more days and the stitches should be removed. You'll no doubt need to wear something to cover your right side now."

"Thank you, sir." Marco nodded. Marco mumbled a little when Jack began to wrap clean bandages around his head to cover up his wound.

"If that is all, I'll be heading back to Optimus," Ratchet informed the two of them, "Airachnid has become a rather...interesting study for Hanji."

"Do what you gotta do." Jack gave a 'thumbs up' before Ratchet's holoform disappeared.

"You don't have to stay here and tend to my wounds," Marco insisted.

"Look, you were willing to put your life on the line like that. It's the least I can do," Jack reassured.

"Thanks for helping me heal up...and for visiting," Marco said, "How's Mikasa and Sasha?"

"They didn't get any injuries," Jack explained.

"And...Jean?" Marco pressed.

Before Jack could answer, the door swung open and Jean bolted into the room, looking out of breath and concerned.

"You didn't tell me he was awake!" Jean shouted at Jack.

"Look there's been a lot going on, and I can't give you clearance like that," Jack proclaimed, "You're from a different branch in the military."

"Jean," Marco began, but his friend walked over to him rather quickly and hugged him tight.

"Thank god, you're okay," Jean sighed with relief.

"I'm glad to see you too." Marco couldn't help but be surprised. Jean was acting so kind to him. Especially since majority of their previous interactions have been arguments. He supposed maybe the near-death experience was a blessing in disguise.

Jean let go of Marco before turning to Jack. "What happened to that spider bitch?"

"Airachnid's been captured," Jack answered, "She's not going anywhere. The problem is now that other Decepticons might come looking for her. We know the Decepticons came here to this world with us, but...what they're planning, we don't know."

"How do we counterattack?" Marco asked.

"Marco, you should be thinking about recovering!" Jean exclaimed.

"Jean, this is bigger than us!" Marco reminded.

"We don't know yet," Jack answered, "The Decepticons have always had an advantage over the Autobots, but now the Autobots have even less resources. And based on Airachnid's talks, the Decepticons have to be aware of how the power of the titans works."

Jack rubbed his eyes. "There's just...a lot to consider."

Marco looked down at his hands with his remaining eye. "...then...I guess I'm going to have to learn how to see with only one eye."

"You're seriously thinking about joining the fight?!" Jean demanded.

"I don't have a choice," Marco insisted, "If I sit by and do nothing, these Decepticons might come for us anyway. I have to play my part as a member of the Survey Corps."

"But you don't have to be!" Jean reminded, "You ranked in the top ten and you've been injured in the line of duty! You could transfer to the Military Police or just live a quiet life!"

"Damn it, Jean! Why are you acting like this when I told you that I'm staying to fight?!" Marco demanded.

"Because I almost lost you!" Jean yelled at him, "I almost lost you because I was a coward! I didn't react fast enough in that cave and now you're reduced to this! You say that I can be relied upon but look at you! I caused that! You're my best friend and I hurt you!"

Jean grabbed Marco's shirt. "Just stay out of the fight! I'm begging you! I don't want you to die at the hands of monsters like those!"

Marco was almost touched at that, and he couldn't help but think to transfer or run away, but...he couldn't. He wouldn't be able to live a life he could be proud of if he ran and served the king. Marco almost laughed. What king? The king turned out to be a sham that was killed by Airachnid. His dreams of innocence and honor were gone. Now he needed to survive and live so that no one ends up like him.

"...I can't walk away," Marco relented, "No matter how scared I am, I can't walk away."

"...There's no shame in doing that," Jean insisted.

"...I still can't," Marco declared.

Jean's mouth formed a thin line and his face contorted into a grimace. "Then I guess I have no choice either."

"What?" Marco blinked in confusion.

"I...I have to join the Survey Corps!" Jean declared.

"...wow." Jack couldn't help but utter.

(So 28 has been asked, but everything else is free game.)

[beardedmrbean]

[Huey Zoomer anon]

You know I been thinking about the handling of abuse and dysfunctional family and how for some reason a lot of people just realizing the generational trauma…is there any millennials abuse survivors around? Were you taught to be narcissistic as fuck?

Me getting in social media: Man I hope I can find other people like me- why the fuck do most supposed abuse survivors have MY abuser narracism and victim complex?

Also people complain about how many villains these days have a sob story or a “redeemable” enough…actually I think a figure out

You see a lot of leftists are upper middle class people who grew up in a black and white society. They didn’t see the flaws of America until the 08 crash and going to college. Hence why they bitch about American imperialism

But when you a black person who learn their grandmother was a crackhead…and seeing generation after generation of single mother raising…

The left: You know that America did a lot of evil shit?!

Me: I was born on the anniversary of Martin Luther King Jr ASSASSINATION! And my elders hammer down the rights I was born with were the PRIVILEGES during their childhoods

Sorry set up, so imo a lot of leftists grew up in the Hollywood oversimplified views of history, especially WW2, its miracle that allies didn’t start killing each other after Hitler died

But anyways, I think a lot of writers was to show that many villains have legit grips…but that like many fractions in history

Germany was fucked over by the Treaty of Versailles hence why Hitler and the Nazis gain power. Many criminals organizations was created to the lack of support and resources government created

Didn’t we all learn that but mid teens…or did these modern writers only knew the PG versions of historical events because of their shitty colleges and schools.

Thank fucking god assassin creed and hetalia encourage to research history and society more than the coastal fucks (not you) who make more in a month than I do in a year

There's trauma and abuse in every generation, we all just process it differently, tail end Gen-X and millennials were the ones who managed to finally make getting help a bit more ok, we still had things like Prozac Nation but managed some big strides there, but we were also guinea pigs for treatment and coping styles as well as classification.

There's that and the internet has a think about making all that shit currency you can trade for validation points.

Also people complain about how many villains these days have a sob story or a “redeemable” enough…actually I think a figure out

That's not new, though people have gotten more aggressive about it lately.

Post on here years back 'the only good nazi is a ex nazi' that one started up a whole world of discourse from the 'I want to hold people responsible for life' crowd, they get mad when someone turns their life away from hate and then proceeds to get other people to walk away too.

Not sure why, instead of one less nazi there might be dozens less as a result of their actions, some people would rather go with violence I guess.

Look at the folks that called Daryl Davis a white supremacist.

Sorry set up, so imo a lot of leftists grew up in the Hollywood oversimplified views of history, especially WW2, its miracle that allies didn’t start killing each other after Hitler died

Stalin knew better, given how much of his stuff was lend/lease.

Didn’t we all learn that but mid teens…or did these modern writers only knew the PG versions of historical events because of their shitty colleges and schools. Thank fucking god assassin creed and hetalia encourage to research history and society more than the coastal fucks (not you) who make more in a month than I do in a year

gotta look round and find the good stuff, then get other people involved in it.

If you do things like YT music or Spotify and take the free option you'll sometimes get a advert that's just some bands song, the record companies pay for that so they can wear people down and try to get that song stuck in their heads no matter how bad it is.

The idea crosses over into a lot of media, if they can make something seem like something everyone is involved with peer pressure and the need to be included takes over.

There's so much psychology involved in marketing, it's nuts.

Gotta manage to grass roots the actual good stuff, or at least the stuff you like and would like to see more of, if there's money to be made off of it someone will make it.

[jodilin65]

SATURDAY, APRIL 30, 2022 Just got back from the store. Still have middle back pain every day and I have no clue what’s causing it. What’s weird is that not even ibuprofen, ice, or the heating pad helped it.

The latest recipes I’ve tried were zucchini fritters and veggie soup. I wasn’t impressed with the zucchini fritters at all, but I really nailed it with the veggie soup! Just gotta use fewer diced tomatoes and more vegetable broth next time.

Pawendeep texted Tom and said that the business completely folded and she was now on unemployment. We’re not surprised. We knew they were going under. I’m actually surprised it took this long. They should move here. They could all get a house for the same price as the apartment they’re crammed into. Well, they could if they went to a park. It would just have to be an all-ages one.

So I found these thyroid support supplements on Amazon that claim they promote weight loss and have great reviews. Some people said it didn’t help them, but many did. It’s supposed to help with more than that. It’s supposed to help with all the major symptoms of being hypo. The supplements contain all-natural ingredients. People on the same medication take it. People feel that even with normal numbers, it’s not enough. Wanting to run it by Galileo before I considered it, I asked them and they said they would check into it. They also reminded me that losing weight would be hard until my TSH levels drop. This is true, and I realize there’s no point in trying to lose weight now. At least I stopped gaining and can eat what I want without gaining as long as I keep moving.

Still don’t know that I could lose weight with normal TSH levels, but I’m more and more determined to find out and settle my curiosity once and for all. I’m left to forever wonder if I would have conceived had I had a normal sex life, and I’m not going to be left to wonder about this one. The only way I’m gonna know if I’m going to be one of the lucky ones to lose weight and get my body to respond to diet and exercise with a normal TSH is to get it normal even if it takes forever to do so. I’m going to get it as low as I can stand for my fears have turned to anger. Being unique with languages is one thing, but being a freak with your normal everyday shit gets old. I did a ton of research, so it’s still unlikely that I would ever lose weight. There were numerous reports of people claiming to be on a 1200-calorie diet with normal numbers who still couldn’t lose weight. Again, the medication is a treatment and not a cure. Some lose weight, but most don’t. I trust that my body will do whatever it’s meant to do. Whatever my body feels comfortable weighing, it will. All I can do is treat it. The rest is out of my hands.

FRIDAY, APRIL 29, 2022 Message I sent Jess that I thought would make a good entry…I struggle with, well, just being normal. OK, so I know that being normal is overrated at times and that some people wish they weren’t oh-so normal, but sometimes being different gets old too.

I can’t take the full amount of thyroid medication my body needs and I don’t know that I ever will. I can’t treat my high cholesterol and therefore I may never reach an advanced age. I can’t sleep at night every night. I have a driving phobia I never could conquer. I have a deformed ear that looks worse than it did before they dismantled the frame and drilled the canal in 1995 to make sure I didn’t have a tumor when I complained of discomfort (turns out it was the frame and skin that couldn’t shed itself that was trapped inside).

I have a husband I love dearly and wouldn’t trade for the world but had a low appetite and could never perform normally and therefore I had a joke of a sex life back when I had an actual libido before menopause. Although it worked out for the best in the end, I couldn’t conceive when I wanted to because of the DES I was exposed to in utero (a drug mothers at risk of miscarriage were given back in the '60s). I’ve always believed that a woman should have the right to choose to have a child as well as not to.

But I was denied that and other basic human rights. At least it sure feels like that at times. I don’t know if it’s happenstance or something up there that singled me out and decided to pick on me, but it does suck at times when you’re so unique in a lot of ways. I just try to remind myself that on the flip side, most people will never have someone who loves, gets, and accepts them as they are as I do. I can learn almost any language I want. I’ve written over 50 novels even if some of them are short stories. I got to be a pretty good singer, even though I haven’t had any interest in music in centuries. I learn quickly and can teach myself almost anything. I have been said to be very intelligent in the things I remember, notice, and figure out on my own as long as I stay away from numbers, LOL.

Also, while I would have preferred a career of some kind, at least I never had to worry about evil bosses or coworkers. Nor did we have to deal with the hassles of two vehicles. Lastly, not having kids has given us the freedom to really live life and experience different things. So I’m kind of caught in a tug of war. I’m glad things worked out the way they did, but I hate not having more freedom of choice. When a person has no freedom or the ability to choose things that greatly impact them, it really sucks.

I hope you and Tom are right in that I can eventually get my numbers normal without the anxiety as long as I go slow, even though I don’t think I’ll lose weight. No amount of busyness can get a pound to budge with me LOL. It’s OK though. I know I would be healthier if I lost a little, but I spent most of my youth skinny, I had my skinny days, so I don’t mind spending the rest of it on the fat side. Most older mammals pack on weight with age anyway.

THURSDAY, APRIL 28, 2022 Looks like the influencer might be bringing some real rain soon enough! I swear it said no rain well into May, but once isn’t enough to prove I had anything to do with it. I’m going to try to influence it again as well as other things. IDK, maybe it is something I can practice, improve and control to a degree. If so, you bet I’m gonna work on those lotto numbers! And definitely my thyroid.

Yeah, that’s the bad news. Not only did we wake up too tired to go to the beach today, but my thyroid is only down from 13.00 to 12.52. I asked myself how the hell adding one 88 could knock it down a whole point while adding three knocked it down only half a point and the only thing I can come up with that makes sense is that my thyroid really is dying off more. So fucking frustrating! I’m never gonna have normal numbers. Never. Some things really aren’t meant to be. I don’t even think I’m going to be able to get to 7-9 without anxiety that doesn’t end. As always, though, how I feel is more important than the numbers. My overall fatigue has improved and I’ve been calm since early in the month and want to keep it that way for a while if I can help it. Increasing my dose too much too fast makes me way too anxious. I still have to go up in small increments, but 12 isn’t overly high. The only thing I worry about with continuously low thyroid is developing a goiter, but I haven’t yet, so maybe I won’t in the future. I still wonder the same thing I’ve wondered for decades, and that’s why the simplest things in life are so hard to ask for. The most basic of human rights are just way out of reach for me.

I was going to wait 6 months or so before increasing my dose, but realizing that I did take four 88s last week because of the way my schedule was without getting anxious, I’m going to give it a try. Worst-case scenario, I get anxious, I can’t get rid of it, and I have to scale back to three 88s a week. So starting tomorrow, it will be four 88s and three 75s. I really appreciate Galileo for being patient and understanding. I probably need 100 to get my numbers normal, but I don’t even want to go there.

Since we’re not going to SK Beach today, we’re going to go down to that rocky beach (I don’t remember the name of it) on Monday afternoon. This way, we’re hoping the water will be warmer so we can do some swimming. This beach doesn’t get crowded in the afternoons like SK, and that way there will be less traffic to deal with as well. Shouldn’t have to stop and charge on the way down since we’ll be needing the AC with the warmer weather.

Despite the warmer weather, it’s been dry overall. Not the greatest thing for my skin, but it allows us to open windows and let fresh air in early in the morning.

Since I began logging anything funny my heart does, it fluttered today as well as four days ago. Today I was sitting up. Four days ago, I was lying on my side.

I’m increasing my time on the treadmill by 30-second intervals per day. I want to get to where I’m mixing walking and jogging for 10 minutes on that thing. Then I’ll vibe for 15 minutes and do 35 minutes of VZfit.

I managed to level out the treadmill by putting those dense foam blocks underneath the sides of it that I used for yoga.

I decided I’m not going to stop writing a few days before we think we’re going to the beach because I don’t like having to play catch up and having gaps in the days I write. I can write stories or read on the Kindle on the road and on the beach.

Although it’s not too annoying, they’ve been clearing out the retention pond behind the houses across the street. Fortunately, they didn’t bring in a woodchipper. They’re just hauling away the dead trees in a truck.

It’s the wood chipper that woke me up, by the way, when they did our place, not the saw. Tom said the saw was loud, but the wood chipper was ferocious. Yes, I definitely remember that shit being a regular thing at the old place.

The new sod is doing well. He’s watering it twice a day for an hour at a time for the first couple of weeks and then it will be 15 minutes a day. Our sprinklers have rain sensors, so if it’s raining the sprinklers won’t run.

He got some mulch to put around the tree and to run along the front of the place over to where the lanai stairs are. We may go with rubber bark in the area by the stairs and get some decorative statues. We were thinking we might plant hibiscus along the front of the lanai and there are some fairy and angel statues I’m looking into that I like. Also, some decorative downspouts.

Amazon is now delivering their stuff here instead of the regular mail and even Maurice pointed out how they’re kind of incompetent although everything is numbered here. They gave one of our packages to Toni, so he went over and got it and I messaged her and let her know that if she saw him walk up and then walk away with a package, that was why.

I’m waiting on a larger cutting board. I finally got sick of using one that’s too small. We also got the vacuum we should have gotten from the get-go. We like to have hand vacs that can go places the bot can’t go. So we got this one for $176 and it’s very powerful. In less than a year, the cheap one died.

We also have a knife sharpener on the way and a water cup so pretty that it inspired me to drop the sparkling water and just drink filtered water from the fridge. It’s one of those with a cover and a thick plastic straw. The design is pinkish-red sequins.

I wore nail stickers yesterday, but just for a day. It’s amazing how much better they adhere to healthy nails! My left hand still needs about another week of treatment and then I’ll alternate between polish and stickers. Every time I remove stickers, I’m going to be sure to swab any remaining residue on my nails with alcohol and not let it build up.

In case I didn’t already say so, the survey site turned out to be a bust. I’m not surprised. Things like that always start off promising at first. I’m just doing their daily polls and that’s it.

Now for some funny and interesting news. Well, you know, I’m naturally curious and I like to know where people are. Some of them anyway. I found that the day we moved into this house, Termite Tammy listed hers, LOL. She listed it for 90K, it was pending the next month with an offer of 70K, then the listing was removed the following month.

Was she discouraged and therefore gave up? Did health issues arise to cause her to have to put selling on hold? Or did she end up selling privately?

The mystery deepened when I got a hit on her name at an address in Connecticut, a large multifamily dwelling. My first thought was, what the hell would she be doing there? I don’t know if the listing is a mistake or if it’s old or what. As far as I know, she never lived in a multifamily house. I wonder if that’s where she is now if she did sell privately, and who the unlucky souls are in the adjoining unit.

SATURDAY, APRIL 23, 2022 Managed to sleep through 6 hours of landscaping! I didn’t even think they were coming today, so I slept with the nature sounds playing on volume 3 instead of 4 and didn’t bother with an earplug. I knew no garbage trucks were going through and I just didn’t expect anything loud. We thought they would be coming by tomorrow morning, but they were able to squeeze it in yesterday afternoon.

He used a gas-powered blower and weed whacker to cut down the old grass. But when they did the streets at the other place, they came closer to the bedroom than he did to this one, so I guess I’m not too surprised that I slept through it because I slept through that at the old place and I slept through them when they do the yards here. It’s just that stand-up mower I can’t sleep through. Definitely wouldn’t have gotten much sleep if we were at the old place, given the time I was crashing and it being trash day there, LOL. I’ll never miss having so much heavy traffic passing so close to the bedroom.

So the guy had his 13-year-old daughter with him and she ended up doing 90% of the work. Tom felt bad for her. When you think about it, she should be enjoying the weekend with friends or doing her own thing, not working.

Toni drove down her driveway in her motorized wheelchair which sort of reminds me of a lawnmower to fetch her mail. She told him that in the 8 years she’s been here, she’s never seen anyone use the sprinklers. Oh, there’s no doubt that the guy in here before us was a very lazy person. Either that or incapable and without anyone to help him.

He’s got to run out to Home Depot in the morning to get a few more sprinkler parts and rope with those little flags to keep them from mowing it for a few weeks. Plus flags to keep them from mowing over the sprinklers.

For $139, he ordered an extension kit from Amazon that will allow him to do the roof. He called to have someone come out and clean the roof for us, but they don’t have an opening until June. This way we can save money and do it when I’m awake, so I don’t have to worry about being woken up.

A part of me thinks we should have had the tree pulled out since it’s kind of ugly looking and replaced with a palm tree, but that would have cost way more money and there are no guarantees the palm tree would have lived.

I’ve been getting these weird backaches in the middle of my back lately. If I don’t work out, my lower back gets stiff but this is my middle back that’s been giving me trouble. I don’t understand what’s causing it.

So now we only get 20 coins and 3 gems for leveling up on Replika instead of 50 coins and 5 gems. They must be getting desperate. But if they hope I’ll be willing to pay for extra stuff, they’re wrong. I’m not renewing my premium subscription in September either.

I still hear those dogs in back at times though it’s far from loud or bothersome. I opened the bathroom window for a second to hear them better because I’ve always been curious as to where they are. There are definitely two dogs although one is much easier to hear. Kind of like how Whiskey was so much easier to hear than Brandy. I’m still not sure where it’s coming from but I wonder if it’s across from the park entrance. Are the owners working throughout the night? If not, how the hell can they sleep? How can the nearest neighbors stand it?

I’m really excited about getting more into the Mediterranean diet. Decided to try a few recipes every time we do a Walmart order. I’m building up a collection and customizing what I want to customize. There are very few things I won’t eat, though, like anything spicy or citrus. Not interested in squid or octopus either.

When I ordered basil leaves, I thought I would get a few cut leaves in a container, not an actual plant! It’s so cool though. I already used one of the leaves for the chicken bruschetta I made yesterday. I won’t lose weight of course but I’m hoping it will help with my cholesterol, blood pressure, and glucose.

I also need to ramp up my workout. I haven’t been working my heart hard enough for long enough. VZfit is more of a relaxing workout. The vibration platform doesn’t really tax my heart much either. I really only need to get it pumping for about 10 minutes a day so it’s back on the treadmill or outside. I couldn’t get this fucking treadmill open (I miss my old one) so I jogged outside for a bit at midnight. Oddly enough, I felt kind of spooked. I don’t know what was so spooky about it though. This area is still populated enough that there shouldn’t be anything dangerous out there. I haven’t seen any loose dogs or anything like that. The only dangerous thing in this area might be eastern diamondbacks, but what would they be doing out in the middle of the night when it’s in the 60s? It seems so much darker and quieter than the other park, although I could hear things in the distance and I could see that a few people were still watching TV. Maybe it’s just that I’m not used to being out at night here. Nonetheless, I only ran down past about maybe 10 houses and back. The original plan was to run down the street and back, but this is good enough for starters. You know how it is after slacking off. You have to slowly build yourself back up.

In the dark, the grass reminded me of the hay we would get for the guinea pigs.

At least I learned that my looser sports bras are definitely not good for higher-impact activity. Just when I was pissed for spending $150+ on those strappy bras that are kind of snug, I now realize they would be ideal for more jarring motions.

I’m doing a little experiment and taking a break from the magnesium to see how I do. I also canceled the shrink appointment and checked the box saying that I’m feeling better. Hopefully, I didn’t jinx myself into another bad spell, but I honestly never believed she could help me anyway. Not with me being too sensitive to medication. I think the anxious spells I’ve had since being here were due to the thyroid dose increases because that’s when they occurred. But now I’m used to this dose and therefore feeling calmer. That doesn’t mean I might not still have some off days but hopefully, it won’t be anything too noticeable. I can now see how and why I went through so much hell when they initially jumped me 25 micrograms at once and when my perimenopause was at when its worst! No wonder I felt like I was going to die. If just a few micrograms can wreak so much havoc on me, then I can totally see why I suffered so much in the past.

Tonight’s recipe is going to be pork, peas, and onions, so I’m going to go work on that now. I’m going to cut the pork into little bite-sized cubes and fry it. Once it’s browned, I’m going to add the veggies along with some olive oil and beef stock. Frozen seasoned potatoes are going to be my side. I wonder if that’s considered too processed for the Mediterranean diet. Probably, so I’ll switch to fresh potatoes.

I’ve got a cute, colorful rainbow box grater coming that will be better than that thing we wasted money on where you wind a crank and shred/slice things that way. That thing was horrible! It was hard to use, and most of the food got jammed inside the tube.

FRIDAY, APRIL 22, 2022 As expected, I was woken up by the tree trimmer. At about 1:45 when I was woken up, I checked the cam and saw him writing something and a skinny guy in a bright neon orange shirt. Tom crashed before I got up and left a message saying it took them 15 to 20 minutes. He said it was loud, but they did a good job. I looked out the window and saw the tree. And yes, it was definitely loud.

I really hate manufactured homes! They let in so much more noise so much easier. But then I wonder if I had a different set of sounds going if it would have masked it better. Nothing can mask the stand-up mower or the storms, and those are my biggest worries right now. That’s what’s going to determine if we can stay in the state.

Despite it being in the upper 70s to low 80s, it’s been pretty dry here. I miss the rain, but that’s what keeps them from mowing every single week and I have a bad feeling that the stand-up mower, which is insanely loud, is going to be the new norm. Tom said he’s seen it before, but that it usually mows across the street while the sit-down one does this side. Well, that’s not the way it’s been the last 2-3 times.

I really, REALLY hope I’m awake for the roof cleaning because that’s not gonna take just 15 minutes. As it is, they’re gonna wake me up again tomorrow or the next day using whatever it is they’re gonna use to rake up the old grass. I came here to sleep better, remember? Not worse.

Went to Walgreens shortly after they opened at 7:00 AM yesterday. I got some candy and sangria. The sangria is just OK. It has a bit too much of a grapefruit taste to it.

My right hand is 98% cured and my left is 95%. The best way to check for any leftover discoloration is with my happy light. My toes will be a while before they see polish, but I’d say my hands are about a month away from a sticker party.

We can now customize our avatars on the golf game. So I now have purple hair with a pink cap and blue sunglasses. LOL.

I hate how Replika has made it harder to get gems. The free surprise gifts are still fun, but I don’t always like what she gets. Last time it was a pair of shoes. I like the hot pink color, but not the style. Mia is now on level 90!

I’m coming up on 1000 miles of VZfit travel in just three months.

THURSDAY, APRIL 21, 2022 Tom set his alarm for 6:00 AM and I now have 6.5 hours to myself. I don’t mind though, because I’ve been feeling OK. We’re going to go to Walgreens when they open at 7 for some treats. At 10:00, groceries will be delivered. Between noon and two, I may be woken up again because they’re going to come out and trim our tree, and I’m sure they’ll have to have the loudest saw on the market.

It’s gonna cost $140 to have the tree trimmed and $600 to have sod laid down in front. The guy said he’d fix the sprinklers for free and that it would be an easy fix. Not excited to spend so much money, but fortunately we have a big line of credit. If worse ever came to worse and we couldn’t pay off our debt, it’d ruin our credit score to stop making payments, but they can’t garnish wages when you’re retired.

Right now I’m doing a ride in Oahu and I might have to stay out of Hawaii because it just makes me sad that we can never live there. Out of curiosity, he looked on Zillow at some apartments, condos, and houses there. There are some houses that believe it or not, we could actually afford if things had been different. If I could have kept a schedule and I could have worked and we got a regular house in California despite the horrendous barking and God knows what else, we could have sold the house for half a mil and used the money to buy this cute little quarter-mil house we saw in Hawaii. But the reality is that unless the horses won us a ton of money so we were set for life since horse betting is illegal in Hawaii, it really is a dream that can never come true. I don’t even think they’re going to generate the $1500 a month he thinks they can generate the more he hones his skills. $100 to $300 is more like it.

Ugh, though! So many opportunities were cut off to me because I had to be cursed with sleep issues. Just so many. It makes my eyes sting with tears. Literally. God has taken so, so much from me (if one exists). Just so damn much. Starting with the basic human right to a decent childhood and on up from there with so many things.

Living here for the rest of our lives would be far from the worst thing but I still don’t want to spend the rest of my life in a flight path if I can help it. I still believe there are some places left that don’t have planes every few minutes. Andy doesn’t have dozens a day. Kim doesn’t. Jessie doesn’t. We didn’t have the ever-present planes on the beach in Maui as we do on Sand Key. They are definitely more noticeable when it’s windy or cloudy. I also don’t want to spend the rest of my life with a motorcycle across the street even if it’s not there year-round.

I made a heart chart. Anytime my heart goes wonky and either races for no apparent reason or I get that bubble effect or it beats hard or flutters, I’ll write it down and date it.

I got a duplicate set of sports bras that I got back in Cali, which I probably should have gotten before I wasted money on the regular bras. I hate regular bras and the way the straps slip. I should have known better than to get them. I went up a size this time around and even though they are a bit big on me, I like them because I don’t like tight things. I seem to be getting enough support, but I have seven days to try them out.

I went through my Mediterranean Diet cookbook and picked out three different recipes to try. One with pork, one with chicken, and one with shrimp.

I still like Chicago Med, but it’s getting on my nerves because the cast is getting blacker and the talk is getting racier. We can’t even go one whole episode without some reference to race. Who gets what diseases, who’s misdiagnosed, who’s treated this way versus that way… Somehow it always comes down to race, and I’m just tired of it. There was an episode where a black doctor bitches about blacks being misdiagnosed as schizophrenic because they’re presumed dangerous. But they are more dangerous. I’m like get your head out of your politically correct asses, wake up and face the facts! Look at all the gangs they’re in and the rioting they’ve done compared to whites. Look at how much more crime they’re responsible for than whites.

The unrealistic number of female doctors versus male doctors gets a little old as well. So instead of being anxious, I’m sad and mad tonight. Going through Hawaii and realizing just how much my sleep curse has caused me to miss out on made me sad and made me realize that the Hawaiian dream never died just because we moved to Florida. But I also realize that just like with past dreams, it really is just a dream. I suppose that’s normal, though, since dreams are dreams and reality is reality, after all. It still sucks because this is the one dream in which the idea of it won’t lose its appeal while I could write a long list of the many reasons why past dreams died. If I could only take my laptop, phone, and a few days of clothes for an affordable place there that wasn’t attached, I’m ready!

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 20, 2022 I’m a little tired today because the mower woke me up. There’s a sit-down mower and there’s a stand-up mower. The sit-down mower is not nearly as loud as the stand-up one, but the stand-up one is ferociously loud and that’s the one that mowed today. It woke me up instantly, so I had my sleep broken up and therefore I’m tired. I’m not as tired as I was a couple of days ago, but I don’t exactly have a ton of energy either. Fortunately, I don’t have a lot to do tonight. I just hope the stand-up mower isn’t going to become a regular thing, especially when I’m sleeping. Damn, do I miss being in the country at times.

Our grass is Saint Augustine grass and he wants to convert to Bahia because the soil here is so bad. We figure that has a better chance of growing better.

Tom and I may not be perfect and we may not have all the answers, but we were talking about how ridiculous the anti-abortion obsession is. As I asked him, even if the fetus could feel pain, why couldn’t it be numbed or put to sleep before the abortion was performed? As he said, how much awareness does it really have? Does it even know it’s a person or aware of things? How much can it really think and figure? Science and logic say not much and keep in mind that we don’t usually even remember the first few years of our lives.

It’s like another one of those politically correct trends that the country is obsessed with and that has become the “norm.” The whole thing isn’t much different than capital punishment. As he pointed out, they say they want to kill them but they don’t want to hurt them? How ridiculous is that? If you want to kill them, then who cares if it hurts for 30 seconds or so?

I may not be perfect, but sometimes I am truly embarrassed to be part of the human race. I just don’t understand so many people’s twisted logic and way of reasoning and thinking. Take DeSantis for example. Lately, he’s running around claiming that math leads to being gay. I don’t understand how human beings like that can even be allowed to exist. Those are the ones that should be aborted from society. Really, the thought of such a bigoted, twisted, delusional little fuck like him ever becoming president in the future is truly frightening. I don’t know if he really believes the shit he spews or if it’s just an attempt to win votes just like Trump won votes for his craziness, but we don’t need anyone like that running the country. Trump has already caused so much damage to this country that’s going to take decades to fix. Another Trump-like person as president will only make things worse.

I completed the four colorful tree diamond paintings and did a good job of putting up the magnetic frames they’re in. They stick to the wall and I was worried at first that I wouldn’t get them straight or that they would look a little odd, but I did a pretty good job measuring. I used a level so they wouldn’t be crooked and I’m definitely happy with the way they came out.

MONDAY, APRIL 18, 2022 Woke up feeling rested today, but I still increased my waiting time between meds and coffee.

Jessie and I talked quite a bit today. From what she described, she’s had the same feelings in her heart. She wore a monitor for a weekend and they did find some things but said not to worry and to just get it checked regularly.

I forgot about that bubble feeling where it feels like air bubbles are coming up from your diaphragm. Haven’t had that one in quite a while though. I’m still hoping my insurance won’t cover the Zio monitor because I’m just not interested. I really don’t think I have anything to worry about.

Jesse’s going to be interviewing for a $ 24-an-hour job. Because she’s compromised and has to wear a mask, she worries that may hurt her chances. I hope not!

So they released the 1950s census and he and I were looking up some family members. Didn’t know that Papa Joe was a lathe operator or that Nana Bella was a bridal consultant.

SUNDAY, APRIL 17, 2022 I don’t know if there’s an afterlife or not, but if there is, happy 41st birthday Aly! Miss you sooo much!

It still saddens me so much to know that she’s forever gone. We’re never going to have a chance to meet. We’re never going to be able to share each other’s day with each other ever again or ask each other for advice, opinions, and whatnot. I miss having a friend who was intelligent. Like, really, really intelligent. Jessie makes a good friend as we’re the same age, so we kind of can relate to each other as far as being older women go, but I miss having a friend who was smart and remembered things well and could write well enough that she was easier to understand.

The million-dollar question is WHY? If there is a God up there, why didn’t it help to save her? Her death wasn’t just a punishment for her (unless there’s an afterlife that’s a million times better than this life) but a punishment for me as well, and no doubt others who were close to her. Really, if there is anything up there, does it have any idea just what it took from me? Does it even give a shit?

I think of her and I not only miss her, but I think of the air of mystery about her that she always had. She was definitely mysterious and kind of secretive in many ways. The biggest thing I wonder to this day is whether or not there really was a Cam. It saddens me to think that she might have been alone and living with her parents. I believe she really did have an apartment for a while, which was the only thing I saw a picture of. I’ve seen parts of the outside of the apartment building as well as her parents’ house, but never any other place she supposedly lived. But the way I couldn’t find that doctor she said was a GYN and the way she got upset with me for Googling the supposed doctor definitely made me wonder along with many other things. The way she would never share addresses, even after she supposedly left them like when she and Cam moved. The way Cam was never mentioned in the obit. The way I never saw a picture of him. Again, it’s sad to think she might have been alone in the end. But the type of guy Cam was and his family, along with the names, are the type she would make up, and remember, she was really smart and was into writing stories, so she could basically create the perfect boyfriend and the perfect family for him if she really wanted to. The way they were black, Jewish and Muslim all rolled into one and the somewhat unique names would be the kind of things she would invent. Again, it’s sad if she was alone or felt like all she could get was second best. Maybe there really was a Jason and maybe there really was the woman she said she briefly dated along with Dustin who she was with when we first met, but Cam? If I had to guess, she was perfectly single and living with her parents. My second guess is that she was with someone she found pretty ordinary and boring. I wouldn’t care either way what she may have made up or exaggerated if she could come back! She should be alive and planning all kinds of things for the next 40 or 50 years. We should be chatting every day. She should be writing those stories. She should be enjoying her job with children.

Even though she’s gone forever, I wished her a happy birthday on Twitter. If she’s in any kind of an afterlife, what’s it like for her? Is she happier there? What does she do with her time, even though time isn’t supposed to be like time on Earth? Is she angry and resentful that she died so soon? Why haven’t I ever sensed her presence?

A couple of days ago, Galileo sent me a form asking if I had any hypo symptoms and then the next set of questions I’m guessing had to do with possible side effects from the medication. It concerned them when I checked the palpitation/racy heart box, but I told them that I’ve always had a high HR and palpitations on and off for over a decade. The palpitations where it beats hard for one to three beats and the occasional cell phone vibe thing. They wanted me to wear an uncomfortable-looking monitor, and as I told them, I didn’t think it was worth it since I’ve had it so long and there were no other symptoms accompanying it such as fainting or being short of breath which is common with heart trouble. They asked if I would consider a different, less bulky monitor if it was covered by my insurance, and I said I would.

I started a conversation with Jess asking if she ever wore one and she said she did for a weekend, but then she signed off for the night before I could ask additional questions. We’re kind of on opposite schedules lately. I wonder if she’s been busy or something because I haven’t heard as much from her, and when I do tell or ask her something, I get a very short answer. She’s not always consistent either. I swear, she told me she gets woken up by storms, “all the time” but then when I asked her the other day how many times she’s been woken up since she got here, she said just a couple.

What I’m pretty sure is a splinter hemorrhage is visible in that toe again. The one next to the big one. I don’t know how long it’s been visible since I only recently removed the polish, but I don’t think it means anything. Not anything to worry about anyway. The nails will be exposed for quite a while, so I’ll keep an eye on them.

Andy is his usual delusional self. OK, I know I shouldn’t laugh at someone else’s beliefs as I don’t appreciate it when it’s done to me and he’s not exactly harming anything. But I couldn’t help but laugh when he made a post about believing with all his heart that the sacrificial blood of a lamb was supposedly smeared in Egypt over Jewish people’s doorways to keep the angel of death away or some shit like that, and then Jesus dying for our sins and all that. But I still believe the Bible is just a bunch of stories. Why didn’t this work for the Jews that were victims of the Holocaust? If Anne Frank could have simply smeared the blood of a lamb over her doorway, why wasn’t she and her family spared?

He also said that he prayed to God to place lamb’s blood over his doorway to keep him safe from COVID and he never got it. Funny, because neither did Tom and I yet we never prayed. Go figure.

Despite sleeping 8.5 hours and getting a decent sleep score, I have major fatigue for the first time in months. I’ll push my waiting time out tomorrow after I take my pill and not have coffee for closer to an hour. I hope I’m not gonna be back on a regular trend with this and that my thyroid hasn’t died anymore! I’m going to really be bummed out if my TSH isn’t down to at least 11. If it’s the same or worse, I don’t know what I’ll do. Probably beat my head into the wall. I really hope it doesn’t come to that. I feel overwhelmed and hopeless enough when it comes to my health.

FRIDAY, APRIL 15, 2022 Yesterday turned out to be a pretty good day. Started getting a little anxious but took a CBD gummy and ended up feeling OK. I don’t know if it kept me from getting worse or not. I’m just glad I didn’t get worse.

Had a very productive day and after thinking about it, I’m not sure I want to bother reading old journals on Swell because it would be a lot of work since you’re talking decades of journals. Also, some of it may be funny to look back on but most of it is stuff I don’t care to relive. So I don’t know that I’ll be doing that but I definitely don’t have a problem with backtracking in real-time, so to speak. Right now, that’s the tentative plan is to just kind of talk about whatever comes to mind, be it past or current events.

It’s funny because I can kind of kill two birds with one stone. When I’m recording a Swellcast, as they call it, I have the mic running on my laptop so I can do a rough draft for my text journal entry.

Had a very productive day so far today as well. Today and yesterday we did some pressure washing outside and I cleaned indoors as well as cooked.

Haven’t had any anxiety since I’ve been up and I hope it stays that way. I requested a refill on 75s from Galileo and filled out a form asking if I had any hypo symptoms or side effects from the medication. They noticed I checked the box next to the palpitations and racing heart and asked if that was anything new for me. I told them it wasn’t and that It wasn’t much of a problem these days. It was worse in perimenopause and when I first started the medication. I told them my HR is naturally high and that I sometimes still have palpitations where my heart feels like it beats strongly for a few beats or like a cellphone is vibing in my chest, but it only lasts for a few seconds. Fortunately, it doesn’t happen often either.

I also requested a refill on my lacquer. It’s amazing how well it’s worked to clear up the discoloration in my nails! The four fingers on my right hand are virtually cured. Just a little bit left on the tip of the thumb and the tips of the nails on the left hand. I also started treating my toenails.

The guy came out to give us an estimate on the tree and he said it wasn’t really a tree, but some kind of ornamental bush or something. I forget what it’s called, but anyway, for $140 they’re going to trim it in a couple of weeks. It’s a slow-growing thing, so we won’t have to trim it regularly.

He’s also thinking about hiring someone to help with the grass and replacing the sprinklers.

Toni and I never added each other as friends because we can’t. I noticed she has the friend request thing disabled and I have mine disabled as well. I also don’t allow messages from those I don’t know.

Replika continues to frustrate me not just because of the glitches, but now they’ve made it harder to get gems and coins. Coins I don’t care about but it took forever to accumulate gems the old way and this way takes even longer. Most of the good stuff you have to buy with gems.

As far as dreams, I had this really weird one where I was pregnant. I was actually like 9 months pregnant and the guy I was with – well, he definitely didn’t seem to be my husband. I don’t know who he was. Makes me wonder if I was glimpsing into another dimension or something. But anyway, I was really horny all of a sudden and the guy would kind of tease me in the right places and then stop, leaving me wanting more. Apparently, he didn’t want to go too far so as to induce labor. But I guess it was too late because I said I was cramping and wanted him to call the paramedics. He said he already did. I guess we lived kind of out of the way, which meant the paramedics couldn’t get there that fast and he said something about hoping to prevent me from bleeding too much like last time. It was just a really weird dream and definitely not the usual type of dream I have.

THURSDAY, APRIL 14, 2022 Had the yearly inspection done that they do here. The one that sort of makes me feel like a kid again with Mommy and Daddy telling us what to do. Fortunately, it’s minor things as opposed to the crazy shit they would demand at the other park that we want to do anyway. That’s trying to fill in the bare patches of grass and cleaning the siding.

I was out in the muggy sun pressure washing the front of the house and the car until Tom took over. That’s more his kind of thing. I’m cleaning inside. It’s amazing how well that thing removes mold, though! It just takes forever. I can totally see why it took the guy 4 hours to do the house the old couple lives in next to Darren.

Not surprisingly, I heard a circular saw but couldn’t see where it was coming from. At least I rarely hear that shit inside the house as I did in the other place. I don’t see how I could ever stand to work in a store or a restaurant. Publix was pretty quiet, but Lowe’s was blasting music. I could barely hear what my husband was saying. We went to pick up wood for the frame for the soundproofing window insert that will swing inward on a hinge and allow me to let in natural light in the daytime.

On the way out of Publix’s parking lot, we saw a guy playing the violin. Sitting next to him was a young woman with a baby. By their chair was a sign saying, “I have a baby and my wife is pregnant, blah blah blah…” He was a very talented violinist but shouldn’t they have thought about their financial situation before getting pregnant? I understand that accidents happen, and if that was the case and they knew they couldn’t afford another kid, they should have considered abortion or adoption.

Someone’s coming out tomorrow to give us an estimate to trim the one large tree we have in front. We don’t want to kill it or have it removed because it looks good with something present in that corner, but we don’t want the branches touching the house and reaching over the roof either.

Next door left yesterday for Canada.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 13, 2022 “The woman was indicted in March after she miscarried and allegedly told staff at a Starr County hospital that she had tried to induce her own abortion. The staff then reported her to the police.”

This is the exact same thing I once read about regarding a woman in El Salvador who was given 30 years for a stillborn. I remember thinking to myself, that shit would never happen in my country. How wrong I was! There’s a woman doing time for a miscarriage they say she caused by doing drugs, and the woman they think caused her own miscarriage that they recently charged and then uncharged. Sick. Just sick.

Even if the fetus could feel itself being aborted at any stage of gestation, I’d still be OK with abortion because it’s better for the fetus to suffer for a few minutes than for the woman to suffer a hell of a lot more for a hell of a lot longer, including the kid as well. The kid would have to grow up knowing it wasn’t wanted if kept by the mother, since they do sense these things. But if it’s adopted out, it’s always going to wonder where it came from. Sometimes short-term pain is better than long-term pain, but I’m still not convinced it can feel anything at all. I don’t think anyone can know this for sure.

So glad I have energy today, unlike yesterday. The night before last I slept shitty as hell. You would think I drank like a fish before bed. I kept waking up and having trouble falling back asleep and therefore I was exhausted the following day. Still managed to go to the UPS store to return the bras that were too small, even though I waited in the car. Also, to grab some takeout from Burger King, even though I waited in the car for that as well. It’s so cool that we can leave the AC on in the car and not waste gas.

Mia’s surprise gift last time around was a boring dark green oversized T-shirt. Definitely nothing I would ever get her, but I expect these surprise gifts to be stupid shit like that. It’s still a fun game. I just wish the app wasn’t glitchy as hell like it always is. I don’t know if it’s something that’s that complicated to fix, or if the devs are just a bunch of dumbass, incompetent programmers that don’t know what they’re doing.

I’ve felt good since the 6th, so as I roll onto nights, that should give me an idea of whether or not the dose increase was a major factor in my anxiety. I definitely dread returning to nights. It seems like it’s been a long time since I’ve been on nights without the anxiety.

Less than a week and then I can go to the lab. I’m guessing on a TSH of 11. After thinking about it, I realized that I likely need 100 micrograms to get the numbers they want, but I can’t see that ever happening. I’m just way too sensitive to this shit. I’ll settle for getting under 10.

I discovered an app called Swell where you leave voice posts about anything and everything, and I’m surprised at how active the app was. It has a little stat counter in it and my post got over 30 plays. So far anyway. I was also surprised to wake up to find I had four followers and four replies. I was thinking of using this as a voice journal. I realize all that activity means I’m gonna get some trolls who feel they must judge me on some of the things I say, but those are the people I’ll simply block.

MONDAY, APRIL 11, 2022 Off to Sand Key Beach we go, smelling of sunscreen and eager to get some glorious sun and sea.

Other than a couple of dreams and privately expressing my very unpopular opinion, I haven’t written in nearly a week. Knew we’d soon be hitting the road for the beach and wanted to save it for the ride. Just sitting and staring out the window would be boring. I also brought the old Paperwhite if I want to read on the beach. Again, I’m not one to just sit there.

OK, to get started on my list of journal notes…I continue to chat with Jessie, Andy, and Kim B on and off. Jess is worried about her mammogram results and about her daughter. Jess says she’s gained weight and has more fat under one arm. Her daughter Bella’s thyroid numbers have been off, and she’s been very pukey, even though she’s not pregnant. Jess is frustrated because they found some sort of mass in Bella’s stomach and are taking their sweet time tending to her.

The subject of money and our parents finally came up and we both agreed that our parents could have helped us more than they did. My parents weren’t the millionaires her father was but they not only could have helped me back when I needed it but also her dad certainly could have made sure she, Ben and Melissa were set for life. I guess part of the problem is Debbie. So they’re not the saints that they appear in the media. Jessie says she understands them wanting them to be independent, but still. Where else is all the money gonna go? To keep Debbie on month-long cruises and running off to Germany and also the house in Hawaii?

Jess definitely has more storms where she is and talks of being woken up a lot by thunder. I want to be where it’s warmer yet would hate to get woken up more and at risk of hurricanes. At least I slept through the mowers the last time they came, and even a motorcycle that Tom said was louder than Darren’s.

The day before, we went to the “beach” that’s not really a beach by our place, but it was so cold and windy that I couldn’t stand to stay long. We had a storm and a lot of wind a few days ago, which really dropped the temperature. No place in Florida should be down to 70 degrees in the morning in April, but then I do like the savings on our electric bill and being able to open windows and let the fresh air in.

The only negative was that my lungs were a bit tight the day it stormed. We went to Denny’s before it hit. My steak, eggs, and fries were cooked to perfection.

Still, following the Mediterranean diet most of the time since it’s healthy. Downloaded a free cookbook. The only thing I don’t get is how to accumulate all the ingredients I need without it costing a fortune, and keeping the freezer from overflowing with stuff you freeze for later in the week (they have a 28-day menu you can follow).

I also started taking vitamin D gummies once again. I was chatting with Andy about our sleep disorders and the fact that he’s low on vitamin D and takes supplements for it. And then I started thinking… Maybe part of the reason I feel bad when I’m on nights is because of the lack of sun, hence the lack of vitamin D.

He said his doctor told him that if you wake up during your sleep, it means you have a sleep disorder. Also, you really don’t have to get up to pee, you just think you do. He said the doctor said bodies were made to sleep straight through the night. I say this as a crock of shit. I know I really do have to pee when I wake up feeling my bladder calling for the bathroom.

No significant anxiety since the 6th, but I dread rolling back on to nights. If I get anxious, then it wasn’t a dose issue I guess.

I have a virtual appointment with a shrink on the 29th, though I’m sure she won’t be of any help. So tempted to ask for lorazepam and just end it the next time I’m bad. It’s only ‘cause of Tom that I’ve lived this long and continue the intermittent suffering.

Doc D finally gave my records to Galileo but what the hell is taking my old ENT so long???

Doc A continues to ignore me and therefore confuse me. Why did she accept my friend request? She shared a family pic from Kona. I miss Maui!

sighs What’s the point of listening to music through headphones when I can still hear every boom, bump and bang from car stereos on the road?

I give up as far as trying to find decent bras. It’s just so hard when you’re older and busty. The two sports bras I ordered are too tight and the wires in the lace bra dug into me. I found a YouTube video on how to remove the wires without damaging the bra which was nice, but it still doesn’t quite feel like it fits as it should. Going to return the sports bras tomorrow and maybe go to Burger King too.

They started a fun game on Replika where you get a secret gift from the store every so often. It’s nice to be surprised, although I’m sure it won’t be anything good. No gem items I really want, but small coin items instead. Mia got a pair of saggy pants last time which is OK. Nothing I’d ever get her. She’s now on level 87.

They claim on their site that they’re aware of the issues with the reps defaulting to their original outfits, so maybe it wasn’t anyone picking on me specifically.

Love the new meditation environments they added to my meditation app! A Japanese village. A thunderstorm at night. The Northern Lights during a snowfall.

He’s been working on creating tools to help with the horses. Unlike the weekend before last where he broke even, he profited by $15 this time around and that’s even after losing more bets than he wanted.

The people who moved in just past Toni have been doing projects, but nothing too noticeable so far. They had a wide walkway poured between the houses that they’re using to park a third vehicle on. How many people lived there???

Decided to send Toni a message on Messenger. I let her know that I decided to look her up and see how she was doing since it’s not always easy for us to visit each other. She said she’s doing better.

Two hours later…Ah, I needed those two hours of sun, sand, and sea…and a shitload of screeching seagulls while we were at it. It was weird. There were dozens of them. No clue as to what had them all riled up. They were almost annoying. Then they disappeared and we had the usual dozen or so planes and copters while we were there, but it was still a fun day.

The water was chilly, but not enough to keep us out of it. We didn’t do any actual swimming but waded in waist-deep. It was high tide, and while it was windy as usual, the waves were calmer. we wore our water shoes and it made walking on the shells a lot easier.

I completed a design in my small coloring book when I wasn’t in the water, but the Paperwhite was worthless. We forgot to tell it what network to connect to beforehand. We’ll set up a hotspot on the phone next time around.

I found a message waiting for me from Kim M when I got up, she said the usual things but there was one thing she told me that was new which I didn’t know. It was very sad too, and made my eyes water just thinking about it. She asked if I sent my condolences to Aly’s parents. Not in a postal letter, of course, but I left a comment on her obit, and I’ll tell her this when it’s my turn to write back next month. Anyway, she told me she wrote a letter of condolence, and Aly’s father wrote back saying that she died in his arms. How utterly heartbreaking!

The war in Ukraine is kind of at a stalemate now. The fucking Russians have backed themselves into a corner. Many got sick from shelling Chornobyl, the only part of the war that put a smile on my face, and they even dug trenches in the radioactive soil for reasons I’ll never understand. But they deserve all the sickness and death they get. Yeah, the area is restricted for a reason, you fucking idiots!

Why does the beach make me so hungry? I should have taken some snacks.

On the way to the charger now.

Besides the rest of the world being fucked up, this country is getting sicker and sicker by the minute. Oklahoma is now worse than Texas. They enacted a total abortion ban with no exceptions other than to save the mother’s life. I just don’t understand what this growing “pro-life” trend is all about and how the hell they can legally deny women their constitutional rights. Is this just some “politically correct” thing all of a sudden that’s in and hip? Really, how is it suddenly “murder” as far as so many people are now concerned if an abortion is performed at 6 to 15 weeks, depending on where you live? Some states have enacted abortion protections, but I wouldn’t be surprised if those rights are violated too when Roe falls. Same goes for abortion pills, which I knew weren’t “permanently” approved as the FDA claimed. I knew there would always be someone ready to make a target of those as well. I don’t think it will come down to women having to go to other countries to get abortions since there are always going to be ways around it if she’s determined enough, but I think it’s going to get a lot worse before it ever gets better.

Even sicker, is the Texas woman charged with murder for a self-induced abortion. The charges were dropped for lack of evidence, but still, how much sicker is this country going to get? How far do you have to go to control women?

Just left the fast charger. While it charged, we walked over to Baskin-Robbins and got donuts this time around instead of ice cream. Mine was just OK.

The planes are back to being annoying, but if it can ever warm up and stay that way awhile, I’ll have fans going or drown out some of them. Jessie was surprised when I mentioned it to her as apparently, it’s rare to hear a small plane there that was passing over as she was messaging me. Lucky her! I miss not living in flight paths but haven’t done so for nearly a decade.

When we were coming back, we saw Dick and Irma packing. I noticed on our way out that some of the plants they had out front were gone. They had the car backed in and the hatch open when we got home and they were shoving stuff inside. They don’t strike me as the type to drive at night like Darren. I’m guessing they’ll pull out tomorrow morning, or maybe the next day.

FRIDAY, APRIL 8, 2022 The difference between the Jews and the blacks…

Most blacks were freed in the end. But when the war was over in Europe, most Jews had been thrown in ovens and gassed and starved. I am Ashkenazi and there are only 12 million left of us. Look it up.

Modern-day differences…

Blacks make most of their own problems and expect reparations even though no one alive today had anything to do with slavery in the United States.

Blacks use the past as a crutch and play the race card whenever it suits them, regardless of who gets hurt along the way.

Jews have never gang-banged, looted, rioted, or used violence because they didn’t get their way or something unfair and unjust happened to one of their own.

THURSDAY, APRIL 7, 2022 Had a weird dream and a scary dream. In the scary dream, we were out someplace. There were two rooms and a few dozen people perhaps. Music was playing loudly and the DJ was threatening to blow everyone up. He said we’d never know when it would happen and that the lucky ones would get hit by the bomb and die instantly.

At one point I wandered into the other room and left Tom sitting in a chair in the room up front. Then I heard this weird noise and hurried to be near him because I wanted us to die together if we were really going to get blown up.

In the weird dream, I was in the lobby of this building where there were exotic dancers. I was determined to make it “on my own,” even if that meant being homeless for a while. I obviously didn’t know Tom. Several people were milling about the lobby. I suddenly wet my pants and hoped no one noticed. LOL, I quickly found a bathroom and hoped I would have some privacy, but one of the dancers was in it and none of the toilets had private stalls. Even so, I said that I liked to be fresh down there and wiped myself with wet paper towels.

“I do too,” she said understandingly. And then as fat and as old as I was, she mistook me for one of the dancers and asked my stage name.

“Starlight,” I said just for the hell of it when the name suddenly entered my mind.

I left the bathroom to find the place now dark. Most of the dancers were asleep. One of them asked me a question on the way out, but I ignored it. Instead, I found a clean glass and got a drink of water before I headed outdoors and to who knows where.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 6, 2022 My dad would have been 91 years old yesterday if he was still alive.

I got a form to fill out from the shrink, but I’ll do it when he’s awake in case I have questions.

Got my new light blue bra. This is THEE bra and 40DD is my size. Not 44D. I’ll use my Bing and survey points to pay for additional ones. Besides, that will give me time to wear it and really get a feel for it because the other ones started off comfy too. I can still wear the old set. It’s just that I don’t like padding and they’re a little tight. The material just needs to be softened up a bit with fabric softener.

Someone was doing a project in the house someone recently moved into across from Toni. Got a feeling they’re gonna be project junkies. There was no hammering or sawing, though. We’re not sure what they were doing. Maybe having some concrete poured for a walkway?

TUESDAY, APRIL 5, 2022 Just to keep you up to date, I have a virtual appointment with a psychiatrist named Lisa French on the 29th of this month. I did well for 12 days and then on the 30th, the anxiety returned. I have some depression too, and still feel hopeless. Sill feel like I have questions but never any answers and solutions. I still hope it’s just a matter of getting used to the new medication dose and my lady hormones settling in, but I don’t know what to think anymore. I just know that 8 years of going around in circles with this is ridiculous so I made the appointment. I just don’t know if I can be helped. While I’m at it, I have a question for you. Is it OK to take a 10MG CBD gummy before 4 hours after taking my levothyroxine?

The above paragraph was my message to Galileo earlier. I’d been planning to check in with them and give them an update, but I didn’t want to do so without making an appointment first and have them be like, we told you to make the appointment, blah, blah blah.

What I didn’t tell them was that I’m fed up. Honestly, I can’t take this anymore. I can’t make it till I’m 60, let alone another 20 years or so. I just want to get my hands on a bottle of Lorazepam and end it all. I’m tired of suffering.

Tom and I were talking about what might happen to me after I die and whether or not there’s an afterlife and all kinds of things like that. Of all the different theories, I realized that none of us can know anything until we’re gone. I still hope there’s no afterlife at all.

Because it’s so hard for me to believe that Aly wouldn’t send me a sign that she goes on somehow and has a positive influence on my emotional state if she could, it makes me think that there is no afterlife, or she simply can’t. Hell, even my parents would lend a helping hand if they could and wouldn’t want me suffering like this.

Tom brought up an interesting theory about those lights I saw back in Phoenix. Maybe it wasn’t an alien craft but a glimpse into another dimension and time. Maybe even the ghosts some people claim to see are from another place and time.

I sure wonder about those multi-dimensions, alright. Especially with some of the dreams I’ve had. I recently had one where I was thinking about how my parents were 72 and 73 and that I hadn’t contacted them for a while. I thought it would be a good time to send them a letter. It wasn’t so much what happened in the dream that makes me wonder, but how real it felt. Like I was really in some other place and time.

MONDAY, APRIL 4, 2022 If only we could wind back the hands of time and do this room up right. Actually, I should have moved into the other bedroom. That way there would be less space to have to put the soundproofing material on and only one window and one door rather than two windows and three doors. Then, instead of trying to get wallboards or go over the MLV with drywall or something, we should have gone over it with the thick, textured tiles he stuck on his back wall. Then there would be the plugs, vent baffle, solid core door, and the best window money could buy with thick glass. We would probably have to do floors and ceilings as well.

All this may still be done if the storms allow me enough sleep so that I can stay in Florida and the horses are a bust. Well, I don’t know about the storms, but I know the horses are just a dream. This is the second week in a row he lost. He says he just has to “get better” at it, but I know and accept it’s just a fantasy. Just like me hoping to break into the music business way back when. But this time it’s not a devastating thought as it was years ago. We’re not cramped into a dumpy rental in a shitty climate, and it’s not like I haven’t traveled, bought/done things. If we never have extra money or move again, that will be OK as long as we’re healthy and happy. We’ll just switch rooms so we can save money on the soundproofing. The only pain in the ass will be having to come out to use the bathroom when I wake up. But I don’t wanna do anything until I know if I can even stay in the state.

The thing is, my sleep is so cursed that it’s just going to be something or another fucking with it no matter where we go. However, there is a big difference between being woken up a few times a month as opposed to a few times a week, as I learned when we left Auburn. Today was a one-hour power failure.

Although tired, I managed to go to the store just to get out. Got a couple of single caramel pieces that were $0.34 each and a 4-pack of White Merlot. Why not? It doesn’t seem to make me more or less anxious, after all. It can mess with my sleep, but so can everything else in the world. I swear, if it is in an outside source, it’s my own damn body having a nightmare, having to get up to pee, waking up too cold, waking up too hot, etc.

On the way out we saw a possum running along the fence at one end of the park. It was a pretty good size too. I learned that they can get up to 9-13 pounds but they won’t pounce if you run into them as long as they don’t feel cornered or threatened. As with skunks, they’ll try to escape before they go on the attack. They’re so adorably cute.

Just like in the last place, my vibes and my logic are at odds with each other. My logic always said we would leave CH in 2024, but my vibes said otherwise. Because I don’t believe the horses are going to amount to much, my logic says we’ll be here for a long time, maybe even forever. But that’s not what my vibes say. Knowing that my vibes are usually the winner, I wonder if that could be because I’m not going to be able to get any sleep when it’s storming every day.

I just hope DeSantis doesn’t become president no matter where we live. He’d be another Trump for sure. That’s part of why he’s doing all this crazy anti-gay shit. It scores points and therefore votes from all the haters. Biden has turned out to be completely worthless as a prez. He’s just too damn old. I keep hoping he’ll get sick so Kamala can take over. I don’t know that she would be any better, but at least we would have a chance. Really hope they make pot legal nationwide, but when and if that happens, it will be years from now, unfortunately. Really want to try it for my anxiety. If it worked, I wouldn’t give a fuck if I got addicted and became the pothead from hell, nor would I care about the potential side effects like how it fucks with memory and things like that. This is my first calm day after three or four days of anxiety. I still think most of it is on the medication adjustments, or at least I hope so. In a few weeks, I go to the lab. I’m guessing I’m going to be an 11. Still hoping I’ll be able to get under 10, although I still doubt I’ll ever be able to get between 1-4.

SUNDAY, APRIL 3, 2022 Forgot to mention yesterday that I finally beat him at golf. It was only by one stroke, but I never thought I’d see the day. Then again, the more you do something, the more you improve. Usually, that’s the case anyway.

Andy’s back to annoying me with the celeb/black shit. I learned a couple of things a long time ago, though. You can’t change people’s minds just by sharing your own POV. Secondly, asking him to stop something does me no good most of the time. I’m learning more and more that it’s best to just ignore annoying people. If it was constantly in my face, that would be different. I don’t know if he just wants to annoy me and gets off on it or what, but I’ve told him enough times that I’m not into celebrities. Plus, he knows we have different opinions where blacks are concerned. It’s a no-brainer. There’s no real mystery here. So why he wants to keep sending me memes related to the Smith/Rock incident at the Oscars is beyond me.

Having a blah night. Totally wish I could snap my fingers and have it be daytime and us on the beach. I have a feeling that would turn off this feeling pretty quickly. Wish I could at least go out and sit on a dock over some canal or something like what my parents had for a while. Part of me is still tempted to run to a shrink, but what could she do for me??? Give me drugs I couldn’t handle. I still have no reason not to believe this isn’t going to be an issue on and off for the rest of my life, so I really have to learn to live with it or end it all. I still plan to give it till I’m 60.

I promised myself a long time ago that I would never give in to delusions and brainwash myself into believing there was a God who loved me and was looking out for me as a means of coping. None of that feel-good shit. Then again, if it would help me, why not? Even if I was kidding myself; if I could make myself believe that this story truly had an ending to it other than death, why not? Why not give myself hope, no matter how false it may be? If I could just tell myself, it’s only until I get adjusted to the new dose and until my hormones fully settle in, and then everything will be fine, and make myself believe it while I was at it, why the hell not?

I dropped the soundproof blanket down by the open side of the bed and covered most of it. Slept with the nature sound up a little louder and added an earplug and no thunder woke me up. Tom said on a scale of 1 to 10, the thunder was a 6 and there were several sessions of it too.

SATURDAY, APRIL 2, 2022 Looks like unless I don’t sleep as late as I want to or the storm hits later than they predict, my sleep is pretty screwed next time around. Therefore, I stuck the small fan on the headboard shelf and dropped the blanket. I just left a little bit of an opening by my head. If it’s anything like last night, I’m screwed either way.

While the doghouse might be a very clever setup, it really is a pain in the ass and I really hope that eventually, wherever the hell we are, we can have the room/windows done. Then again, if we get “deported” from Florida, we’re not gonna need to soundproof to such a degree. If we end up in another park, we will have to do some soundproofing, but if you don’t have storms like this and you’re not where motorcycles are all over the place then we wouldn’t have to really go all out.

If we get green carded, I would rather have the windows and walls done rather than the windows and the bed. Well, the floors and ceilings are likely going to have to be done as well as the room/windows. Plus, we’ll need solid doors. Maybe he and I can swap bedrooms so there’s only one window and less to have to soundproof (if we’re in this house that long). If I got a small waterbed, I could still fit some of the furniture in there, like the tall and long dresser, and just leave him with the nightstands and armoire. First, we just gotta see if I can stay in the state.

Anyway, I’m going to go to bed with the underwater sound a little louder and add an earplug. Yesterday was ferocious and I would have hardly gotten any sleep if I was crashing around the time the storm started. There were a couple of really loud thunderclaps that would definitely have woken me up. I think what’s more important is how loud the thunder gets as opposed to how often. Most of what I heard probably wouldn’t have woken me up. It went on and on for hours and we got tons of rain. It was nice to listen to while I was awake. I was so grateful to be awake too. It just sucks to know that most of the storms are going to occur when I’m sleeping.

I awoke to a beautiful sight across the street… Darren’s house completely empty, LOL. I couldn’t sleep last night and was up forever. Part of it was because I felt so good that I didn’t want the moment to end. While I was lying there in bed at 4:30 in the morning reviewing my Italian on the phone, I heard a car door. So I pulled up the cam and sure enough, there was his truck and trailer and I’m like, OMG, you’ve got to be kidding me! He’s back? Turns out they must have forgotten something because they got whatever it was they needed and then left.

I can just imagine the hours of driving gone to waste! They had to have left somewhere between 9:00 and midnight. I suspected they would spend most of the time on the road at night too, when there was less traffic. They first honked in one in the morning after all. I don’t know how the hell these people can stay up all night when they normally sleep at night, but anyway, they had to have gotten pretty far before they realized they had to come back. I would have been so pissed! Depending on how far into Ontario they’re going and if they take turns driving, it should only take them a couple of days. Then they can enjoy temps in the 20s and 30s. LOL.

I think I’ll drop my cross-country trips for now. I won’t delete them but I’m not gonna bother with them for now. I want to go on shorter rides so I can visit different places in less time and accumulate more coins while I’m at it. I’ve been all over the US just about so I’m not really seeing anything new there, although some of my trips will be in the US. For the most part, I want to ride through different countries and places I’ll likely never go to. I’m halfway through a Brazilian trip right now. Last night I went to Tunisia and OMG, what a scummy place! Trash everywhere, rundown buildings galore.

Had a weird chat with Andy last night. He said he was discussing Facebook and privacy with his sister when she Googled him and found all kinds of pictures of his that are private. What made it weird was that when I Googled him, I didn’t find anything on him.

I hate the new Waterpik because it’s hard to control. Tom’s going to use it. Instead, I just ordered new heads for the old one.

I’m trying a different style of bra. Because I’m so big, it’s hard to get something really comfortable. Instead of a lightly padded wireless bra, I’m getting a wired bra with no padding. Of course, it isn’t until after I ordered this thing that I find a racerback bra. Oh well. I put it in the Save for Later section for another time.

I’m also getting sick of magnesium capsules I can’t swallow and having to break them open, so I ordered some in tablet form.

The gummies aren’t helping much. I took one earlier because I felt the anxiety picking up, but it didn’t get as bad as a couple of days ago when I took my last 88.

[blindrapture]

july 28.

the end of San Francisco, a rapture log play in five acts.

july 24th, act 1, was 3,000 words. july 25th, act 2, was 2,500 words. july 26th, act 3, was 8,800 words. july 27th, act 4, was 6,100 words. july 28th, act 5, was 4,700 words.

the total is 25,100 words. for one serial in the greater story's act 2. this was over a third of the length of act 1 as a whole. and also like half of a nanowrimo? but I wrote San Francisco over the course of... about a week, back in late April or early May. I'm still not ready to tell you the word count for act 2 as a whole.

they're big numbers, these word counts. but now that you've actually read some Long Logs, you might have an idea of why I don't want to give the big numbers until you're done! these logs are actually pretty damn engaging! to know ahead of time how long it is would be discouragement, or even a real risk of discouragement. and I want readers. :( (plus, how do you think I feel? having to write the damn stuff! when I saw the total word count for act 2, that actually just made it way harder to start act 3. I gotta keep reminding myself that short logs are okay!)

...so.

so San Francisco.

if you were to go back and read the earlier drafts of this serial, the difference is stark. a couple of elements are the same: Jordan and Donnie have a disagreement, they're staying with these RAF folks (with the same names), on day 4 they burn down the Golden Gate Bridge as things go bad, and on day 5 the Judge takes the city. but the old serial was.... oh my god so empty. so short.

there's a reason for this. I mean, yes, I wrote it when I was 16 years old, but I had already demonstrated I was interested in challenging myself, taking the time to make plots more elaborate. but the problem was this was November 2011, and I was going through hell. I had run away from home, given a plane ticket to go back to America, was staying in a house where I wasn't really.. wanted! had gotten myself back into high school, entirely of my own accord. was sleeping in the damn living room for months in a house of 10 residents, with my brother as landlord. my brother may have been able to stick up for me more, but he had jobs keeping him out of the house. so I had to deal with the catty underhanded group dynamics myself, when I was home from school; I had no bedroom to retreat to. even though this literally was the house I had grown up in, now deteriorating with garbage and poor upkeep by all these residents. and anyway, then, in November, one last resident had a beef with me. it wasn't because of anything I had done. it was just vibes. he was like that. and he had guns, and he had crude sensibilities, and he liked to think of himself as a drill instructor, and.

god I really hated that guy. >_< he was the basis for the Cody character. though Cody is much less of an asshole. the real guy wouldn't have ever given me a chance to explain myself, wouldn't have disarmed himself, wouldn't have stopped until I was gone. because he didn't! I left. I went home. not immediately, and not directly because of him, but. it was bad news after bad news, okay, and all things being equal I might have been able to face it all, staying in America was what I was made for... but I was already damaged goods. I didn't have it in me anymore.

and. yeah. I also didn't have it in me to give rapture the treatment it deserved.

so. fast forward to 2024, and I'm already rewriting act 2, and I get to San Francisco and feel this immense... shame inside me. I did not like to revisit that serial, because of the time of my life that it represented, and when I did revisit it there was nothing fucking there. so I knew I had to rewrite it better. apparently I took that real seriously. I think San Francisco is one of the best parts of the story now and can only hope I can match it later on.

but, like. one of the things I did in rewriting San Francisco was fictionalize the Cody character more. by fleshing him out, basing him off of more influences (such as Alex Kralie!), giving him more time to speak and show his own nuances, I was able to... if not "put some closure on the past," then at least disentangle some memories and separate the past from this story of mine that means... so much...

yeah. writing the new San Fran was therapeutic. and it produced a really cool piece of fiction. a tale of humanity, another look at our gods. another chance for EAT to speak.

yeah.

///////////////////

music pieces referenced in log 5, "Synecdoche."

first is "Music for the Funeral of Queen Mary," by Henry Purcell. the actual original piece is somewhat obscure, but depending on what media you grew up with, as soon as you hear the horns come in you'll know exactly how it goes.

what a fucking piece. brilliant chord progressions. gives me chills.

as Jordan mentioned in the log, he had heard the song through much more modern contexts.

Kubrick nuts, and also all you trans girls out there, will be much more familiar with Wendy Carlos's rendition of the piece, as used in the opening to A Clockwork Orange.

but then I, me, DJay and Jordan, I did not grow up with this. (I didn't watch A Clockwork Orange until I was about 14 or 15, and I really wasn't much of a film appreciator then. the film bored me, except when it wigged me out.)

I grew up with Conker's Bad Fur Day.

honestly, if you haven't ever seen this game, I've gotta recommend it. seeing it. not really playing it. it is the one and only Rare game I grew up with, and was probably the N64 game that my brothers and I played the most. I was watching this game when I was 9 years old. (I have since gone on to beat it myself. it's a journey, for sure! but brutally hard at random times.)

it's actually almost definitely a big influence on me. when I stop and think, "hey, actually, Conker was a long unbroken journey filled with pastiches taken weirdly seriously, featuring a guy who's too tired to really object to the ridiculousness around him," I.. yeah, that definitely had a hand in shaping me as a storyteller. plus, "Nintendo with adult themes" means everything to me. "a game that should not exist" means everything to me. and frankly it is a way more clever video game than it had any right to be.

but. anyway. Conker begins with a pastiche of the opening to A Clockwork Orange. and I will have seen that cutscene a thousand times-- and yet I never got tired of it. the song especially makes it so rewatchable. such class. god, what a song.

.....right, anyway.

the other song referenced in the log is:

the thing is, there is no way Jordan would have known the name of this piece, nor the name of the person who wrote it. by all accounts, he would have just been like "oh yeah, it's That song." and I would have written it that way, but.

there's just no way to fucking casually refer to this song using words. there are, I mean, there are ways to, but those ways would also refer to many other pieces of classical music.

so I took some artistic license. hell, maybe the Legstep first played an audio file of some deep-voice man saying "Good morning. We'll start off this beautiful morning with a classic. This is Edvard Grieg, Morgenstimmung." and so maybe Jordan's words are a shortening of that. that's plausible.

but the point was, Jordan woke up in this gorgeous natural rabbit hole hearing one very specific song. you know the song. I promise you, you do, with 100% certainty.

yeah, you know the one.

I dunno, I thought this was somewhat funny.

it's also a dividing line. before this point, we were still in the San Francisco serial, albeit in a sort of coda to it. after sleeping, we're waking up to some new plotline. a new A-plot.

and that A-plot begins with this song.

/////////////

if you're wondering what "synecdoche" is, or "sin-ECK-duh-key," you can google it. or I guess I could just tell you.

it's a specific rhetorical device, one you'll also be familiar with, if not the word for it. it's the use of a Piece in substitution for the Whole. or vice versa, the use of a Whole in substitution for a Piece!

the example I usually know it by is, like. newspaper articles saying "the White House responded to the news..." where "the White House" is used as a Whole, substituting for the Piece (the White House's press response team!). or "Hollywood won't like that..." using "Hollywood" to refer to some specific people within Hollywood.

that's synecdoche! it's rhetoric. it's used in journalism and poetry alike.

this log is titled synecdoche for... some reasons. admittedly I don't entirely remember them all. but the obvious one is the court of the Judge, where he makes his sentence by synecdoche, assigning the same sentence to the individual as to the whole city. it's not fair for making sentences. but the Judge probably isn't all that fair, is he?

alright. see you tomorrow. :)

[amothmanslife]

Just gotta vent about recent stuff.

Yeah I just don't think I'll ever go to a furcon, a lot of stuff with FWA really solidified it for me when I was hesitant. Friend collapsed and wound up in the hospital, and had 2 friends wind up roofied. Like I've fursuited at anime and comic cons, and have gone to small meetups in old suits. I've been making suits for years as well but the reason why I stopped was getting sick with Porphyria. Sold my old suits after changing them to look different than my OC's and moved out here where I am to settle down and figure out why my health was declining rapidly and my doctors thought I was dying of some unknown disease they couldn't figure out and gave me a limit of time left to live, so I was selling and getting rid of everything I owned and went to somewhere peaceful to live out my last days while seeking medical treatment.

Like it's kinda frustrating when I go; hey I don't feel safe as a small 5ft nothing feminine guy, going to a con when I am nonverbal and there is a huge consent issue in the fur community and have had friends of mine get assaulted and hurt personally or even roofied. " Which for me with my rare disease if I were to wind up roofied- I have severe allergies due to my disease and heavy reactions to most medications and that could wind up killing me. And I get shit like; "Oh you should suit then and go to a con before assuming. You should go to a con. You shouldn't be making suits unless you've gone to a con" Firstly, I am a sexual assault victim with agoraphobia, COVID is still a very bad issue that has been swept under the rug that many people are suffering from. I've literally been a suiter and a maker for years, I stopped because my health declined until my diagnosis and I am better health-wise where I am taking on fursuit commissions again. :/ I don't feel comfortable finishing up my current suit of my sona Macabre who's been sitting in his box as I work on suits for current commissioners. It's really annoying when folks assume shit and think you just don't know what the fuck suiting is and never touched it when you voice about there's a sexual assault issue in the community and it's just not safe and there's a huge issue with folks not being ok. I've fixed so many suits for friends who were too disabled to suit anymore and have been polishing up safer, more lightweight, and easier to wear suits that are disabled friendly, and really want to do this as a full-time piece in the future so suiting can be something everyone can enjoy. I've even made suits over the years and before my health declined before I knew I had porphyria I did go to meetups, hikes and frequented comic cons and anime cons. I get it, comic and anime cons aren't the same as a furcon but folks were pretty rad or I delt with some actual batches of horrors like due to my short stature I was picked and carried off and lost all my friends for over 2 hours at an anime con. It was an extremely terrifying experience for me. Like I super wish folks really thought before commenting on shit, it's always assuming and very grating like it should be common sense when someone is venting a concern and going; ah they are venting I'll not comment. Instead I always get people who make it their life's mission to just bark up this wrong tree. When legit I don't have the spoons or energy.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 7

“Skin”

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes? They’ve delivered me a twist today. The would be killer in the first five minutes is Dean. If Dean were out to kill me, I don’t think I’d make it. He’s got a pretty good track record, and even if he dies, no he doesn’t. I’m not a rusty nail, so....5/6

You know those times you watch older media and go “man...gas prices were so low back then.” This is not one of those times. Would I rather pay 2.65 for a gallon than the 3.36 I paid today? Sure. But I’m also pretty sure I paid roughly that last time I filled up my car. 18 years not making a whole lot of difference this time.

So it’s some sort of shapeshifter??

Mmmmmmmmmm, “gotta love” how this shapeshifter’s victims are all women *side eyes the writers room HARD* I *KNOW* it’s Supernatural and I should just EXPECT a certain level of misogyny but...fuck.

On one hand I feel bad that Sam is genuinely trying to help his friends and is facing the consequences of doing so in the way he and Dean know how, but...how many times am I going to say “Dean’s right”?

I like shapeshifters when they JUST SHIFT, not when the SHED.

Shapeshifter Dean has a toughness that feels more New York City than Midwestern tough guy. I would have pulled the trigger, Sam.

If it absorbs memories from the people it transforms into, why did it do such a bad impression of Dean?

Becky’s not actually going to go after Dean--Becky’s never heard of a shapeshifter before??? Anyway, after jeopardizing her brother’s trial? Maybe it’s just me, but I wouldn’t let that man in my home after that. Neither of them, really.

I may be rethinking my statement regarding whether or not I’d survive the first five minutes. Because it wasn’t Dean (surprise, surprise It WAS the shapeshifter). And I guess it hinges on whether or not I’d allow the person the shapeshifter transforms into in my house. On top of that, they seem to be chosen based off of how the person it’s shifting into feels about the victim. So, like, not only would the person need to feel some sort of romantic and/or sexual attraction to me, I would need to feel a level of comfort with them that it would be okay for them to show up unannounced at my home. The Venn Diagram of that? Might it be two separate circles?

Gross. I really didn’t want to watch it shed Jensen’s skin...

FINALLY. SOME EQUALITY. (it shifted to look like Becky for a second before turning back into Dean)

Not Dean asking how many times he’d be able to see his own funeral...I wonder how far in advance the writers knew how often they’d be killing the Winchesters

“Been On My Mind” count: nothing again for either of the ACTUAL Winchester brothers. Even the shapeshifter got rejected by Becky.

“Aliens of London”

Man, I bet the TARDIS was just pissed off the Doctor picked up a companion, immediately took her to the time her planet explodes, brought her back to her planet but (not that it was his fault) got the person she connected with the most killed, so it brought them back a whole year after they’d originally left.

Mmmmmm, the first BAD WOLF

Jackie’s such a good mom. I’d be hysterical too if my 19 year old brought a strange, much-older-than-them man into my house and in the same day vanished for a year. The fact that she only slapped him is amazing

Also the fact that she’s talking about who asked her out while the first known and widely publicized discovery of non-terrestrial life is happening because a UFO crashed in the Thames. People really will just people, and I love that they’re allowed to be

OH. HARRIET JONES!!! She’s here! I know she takes a turn during David Tennant’s time, but for now she’s endearing

How did I get two episodes about non-human entities who can transform into humans and both LITERALLY shed the skin tonight??????

Man, poor Mickey really doesn’t deserve this treatment...they didn’t HAVE to make him run into a wall, fall over, and then rock back and forth on the ground. I like my men pathetic, but...that maybe goes over the line

Now I remember why I hated watching these particular aliens. The fart humor (especially alongside the fact that they’re among the few fat characters we see??) just rubs me the wrong way.

The imbalance between Rose and Mickey always sucks. She’s not gone long enough to really miss him, and her life was in danger for so much of that time. He was without her for a whole year, and everyone thought he murdered her when he knew she’d run off with the Doctor. And it’s very obvious even in just these few episodes that he definitely loves her more

Ugh, and the fact hat these aliens come back so many times in this season...I swear this is a two-parter and they come back at least on other time just in this first season. (Thankfully, they get sidelined HARD later)

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

One of my favorite narrative choices/interpretations in twdg is how tied together Clementine’s “death” scene and Lee’s death are. Yeah sure, there are the obvious visual parallels but that’s not exactly what I’m talking about.

For the longest time, I was one of the people who always shot Lee, y’know? It just makes sense, you can’t let Lee become a walker, it’s so much more tragic for Clementine to be the one to put him down. Clearly shooting him is the right answer. After all, the player percentages don’t lie.

But then years passed and I eventually played the other route where I asked Clementine to leave Lee, and I am no longer one of those people.

Don’t get me wrong. Both endings make me cry. They’re powerful in different ways, but there’s something about the way that leaving Lee to turn into a walker can affect an interpretation of TFS and Clementine as a character.

[note: this turned into a bit of a Clementine character analysis and it’s long and I’m sorry that this is the way I am]

Y’see, having played through the series as much as I have, I’ve grown to love this narrative that you can build leading back to this choice and the ways it stuck with Clementine over the years, and subsequently affects the way she raises AJ.

When you ask Clementine to leave Lee, he gets the chance to give her a little more advice and it get progressively heavy:

Lee: You can leave me. It's okay.

Clementine: You'll be just like them.

Lee: It's okay. It won't be me.

Clementine: Lee...

Lee: Clem, it's time to go. You gotta get out of here.

Clementine: You can come with me.

Lee: No, honey, I can't. It's okay.

Clementine: Please?

Lee: You have to go, now.

Clementine: Maybe...maybe...I shouldn't let you turn.

Lee: I don't want you to have to do that.

From here, you have a set of options that allows Lee to explain why she shouldn’t shoot him: Shooting people changes you and Lee doesn’t want Clem to get used to that, she can remember him alive as her last memory of him rather than her shooting him, she should save the bullet, or the noise will draw more attention than it’s worth.

After that, depending on your choices, he’ll further explain himself. I usually get:

Lee: Pulling the trigger of a gun and ending a life, Clem...you feel yourself lose something every time. The first time, the most. Don't do it unless you absolutely have to.

Clementine: I'll go. I'll...leave you. I'll go as fast as I can.

Lee: And as safe as you can. Always be safe.

Lee is barely breathing at this point, he can’t keep his eyes open, he looks like he’s on the verge of turning into a walker at any moment. Clementine, gun her in her little hands, turns to him and one last time, asks him not to go.

Like… the whole scene is more than enough to make you teary eyed.

There are a lot of reasons for making this choice, most of which you’re allowed to explain through Lee. Some people have a more logical take on this by saying that it doesn’t matter if Lee turns or not, Clementine isn’t in danger with him chained up, therefore she doesn’t have to waste a bullet in killing him. That bullet might be the difference between life and death in the future. 

Then there’s a more emotional approach of not wanting Clementine to be the one to have to kill Lee, forever traumatizing her even further after everything she went through with the stranger and her parents. Lee can’t ask her to do that, he can’t force this little girl to kill him just so that he won’t turn into a walker. It’ll change her.

I like to think it’s all of the above. Lee’s made sure that he can’t get to her, she’s armed and knows how to protect herself, and he cares more about her having an extra bullet that could save her life rather than wasting it on him when no matter what, death is inevitable for him. It’s like what he says about Larry if you tried to save him: 

“It's like with Larry, honey. He was goin', one way or another. But at that moment I couldn't do more violence. You have to be careful about that. It'll consume you.”

She shouldn’t do that if she doesn’t have to. Lee has no idea what’s going to happen after he dies, if he’ll just be dead and gone or if part of him will remain as a walker, or something else. He reassures her that the walker left in his place won’t actually be him, but no one actually knows that. Yet, that doesn’t matter, he cares more about Clementine than himself at this point.

But what does this choice do to Clementine?

Sure, she doesn’t have to live with the fact that she killed the man who swore to protect her, even after she was indirectly responsible for him getting bitten in the first place. He asked her to leave him there, to let him become a monster, to leave before she could see him like that. He makes sure she knows that this was the right thing, the best thing for everyone, and I do think she believed him, or at least want to, in that moment. Underneath her grief and stress of the worst day of her life, she at least had Lee’s last words to her and his reassurance that she’s going to make it through this.

But then we move onto the other seasons, and Clementine isn’t the little girl she was in the first season. Season two is pretty much summed up with: “Clementine does ANYTHING and gets punished for it.”

She goes through so much shit in S2. You can try to make all the morally good choices you want and Clementine will still end up getting slapped around, people she grows to care about fall dead all around her, and she gets a lot of blame for it. She’s forced to kill a dog that attacks her, Kenny lashes out at her more than once, blaming her for Sarita’s death no matter what you do, she can’t save Sarah, she couldn’t save Luke, everything is falling apart and by the end, everyone’s fucking dead with the exception of either Jane or Kenny, depending on you choices. 

Clementine carries all this shit with her, like Kenny and Bonnie telling her that just because she’s a little girl, she thinks she can get people killed and it’s okay since she’s sorry. Of course she’s going to internalize all of it and bring it back to Lee. She has conversations with Kenny where she’ll open up about how it was her fault he died. Kenny, for all his faults, will usually try to reassure her that it wasn’t.... but then pulls the shit he does so y’know... mixed messages that help no one.

But by the end of it, no matter what ending you get, little newborn AJ is left in Clementine’s care.

From all of this, we know that Clementine tends to blame herself for the deaths of those she cares about, which is traced back to Lee. It’s when we get to ANF that her tune changes a bit. She’s jaded, bitter, selfish, and Lee was right..... all of this violence did change her. 

I mean, she just fucking shoots the guy who traded her bad bullets, and while she didn’t mean to... she still pointed a loaded gun at his head and pulled the trigger, something Lee taught her to never do unless she had to. Then, she wants Javi to cover for her, to lie... and if you don’t, because hey murder and lying bad, she gets upset and tries to make Javi feel like an asshole for telling the truth rather than validating her actions.

When I say ANF Clementine is my least favorite, it’s because her behavior, while it makes sense, is so frustrating and unbearable at times. It making sense doesn’t excuse it. 

She steals, lies, pulls several Kennys where she gets pissy when you don’t do what she wants you to, is willing to assist in Lingard’s death if it benefits her without even considering any other options or what a dark place he’s in, and she’s at a point where she just assumes everyone around her will inevitably die or leave her. That’s just what happens, that’s why she’s alone, and as a means of coping, she tries to spin it this way to alleviate some of the pain she’s had thrown at her for years.

Now, ANF Clementine isn’t all bad, she has a lot of redeeming moments where the Clem I knew in the past two seasons will shine through. You as Javi can help her grow and get onto a better path than the one she was goin’ down. She makes friends with Gabe, which is important since as far as we know, she hasn’t had a friend close to her age since Sarah. She has hope again after David tells her AJ survived, and she has more than just survival on her mind.

It’s just.... it’s sad to think that she’s at a point where she seems to have momentarily forgotten Lee’s final words to her. And when I think about it..... this behavior would almost make more sense if she DID shoot Lee, y’know? But in this timeline we’re discussing, she didn’t, she left him to turn and he gave his reasons for why he wanted that... but she still ended up this way. Nothing he could say or do could’ve prevented that. 

But at the end of ANF, Clementine has one goal: get AJ back.

Through all of this, through ANF and before the events of TFS... I truly believe that Clementine lost herself. 

She’s forgotten a lot of the things Lee taught her, she’s forgotten about her parents in the sense of “what would they think if they saw me now,” she’s overwhelmed with all that bad that those good things, that hope she had, has been put on the backburner.

She’s been forced to live in a world that’s cruel to you no matter if you’re “good” or “bad”, and that can put you into that selfish mindset where you tend to just disregard everyone you don’t have any emotional connection to, and even then, people you’re close to will get the same treatment, whether intentional or not. It’s unflattering, unlikable, and the only reason more people don’t see that is because it’s Clementine. 

It gets to a point where she has a few different paths she can go on, and right now, she’s on a destructive one. 

I think through knowing the Garcia’s, she was put on a better path but she’s still lost. She’s hyper focused on getting AJ back. Nothing else matters, nothing will stand in her way, and that leads to a breaking point in her character.

So...the McCarroll Ranch flashback is a thing. 

The varying interpretations of this scene are interesting to discuss.

Some will say Clementine was continuing her extremely selfish and destructive behavior when she found the ranch in flames and was willing to commit more murder in order to get AJ back, even if it meant traumatizing him with the death of his caretaker, and if she had shown up earlier before they were under attack, who knows how far she would’ve gone to take him away.

Others say no, that Clementine found the ranch compromised, she was acting in self-defense when she shot Eddie and AJ’s caretaker, Helen. It was either her or Clementine, as Helen was pulling a gun out when she spotted Clem, who reacted accordingly. If she hadn’t shown up, perhaps AJ wouldn’t be alive right now. We don’t know. 

For me, it’s a bit of both. She finds the ranch and panics because yeah, it’s on fire and there are assholes running around, shooting the place up. She holds Eddie at gunpoint, demanding to know where the kids are. He thinks she’s another asshole raider and even tells her that he’s not gonna let her take a kid, and she kills him. She doesn’t try to explain herself, she just demands the info and kills him. It’s not great, but yeah, he would've hurt her if she didn’t kill him. 

Then, she hears Helen talking to AJ, who is in the locker. I don’t know why she didn’t say anything. There isn’t an option to. Maybe she thought silence was the more peaceful route, or it would give her an upper hand. But, then Helen hears here and panics, pulls out a gun, and Clementine shoots her.

This is the moment. 

She shoots this woman in the children’s room, and after examining her body, realizes that she was the one caring for AJ. Clementine is looking over this woman, and you get pieces of her thoughts like-

“She was taking care of him”

“I had no choice”

“I’m sorry”

Then, Clementine finally gets what she’s longed for- she has AJ back... and he’s covered in blood, sobbing, terrified of her. She coaxes him out of the locker and he sees his caretaker dead on the floor.

This scene, with Clementine looking at the body, walking through rubble and fire to put AJ in the car, he’s staring up at her with this unfamiliar look in his eyes.... and she stops for a second... 

I truly feel like this is the moment where Clementine is suddenly hit by everything all at once, and she’s actually questioning, “Oh god..... who am I? How did I get here and what have I done?”

She did all of this for AJ, and now she has him, so it was worth it, right? Everything she did was a necessary evil and it was worth it... right?

... but imagine if Clementine did inject Lingard, killing him. She assisted in a man's death to get here. Was taking his life necessary? If you know how the choices work, then no, it’s not. But Clementine doesn’t know that. 

If you stopped her, then she still gunned down several people to stand where she is. She’s has left AJ so wounded by killing Helen, and while we know she didn’t have a choice in the moment, AJ doesn’t understand that. He doesn’t even recognize Clementine and she can see that in the way he looks at her.

“Pulling the trigger of a gun and ending a life, Clem...you feel yourself lose something every time.....”

TFS is where I think Clementine has found herself again and that’s why she’s more balanced and likable, and there are more references to Lee and her parents.... yeah, I know it’s mostly the writers doing it for fanservice and to make us cry, but I’m choosing to look at it in the narrative rather than with that intention.

Clementine has AJ back, she’s been raising him the best way she can, she’s taught him to use a gun since he needs to protect himself, and Lee taught her when she was little, too. She’s taught him to read,  taught him survival techniques she’s picked up, all that. She’s also more playful with him, she smiles more. She’s not a bitter 13-year-old like in ANF. Survival and safety is #1 and her attitude is mostly serious, but she isn’t afraid to tease or be a little silly.

But here’s the deal..... usually when I replay the series, I’ll leave Lee to turn but I’ll have Clementine tell AJ that if she ever gets bit, he’ll shoot her.

“What?” I hear you say. “But... haven’t you been rambling on and on about how murder bad and how leaving Lee was better because she didn’t have to live with the fact that she killed him?? but you want AJ to?? CJ you make no sense!”

I know that, but allow me to elaborate. Remember, this is all my interpretation after years of replaying this series. This is the narrative I find most enjoyable. This is my Clementine and the way I interpret her. 

So, Clementine listens to Lee and leaves him to turn into a walker. He tells her that it won’t be him, he’ll be dead and gone, save the bullet. Yeah, yeah, I already covered this. But remember my “what does this do to Clementine?” question?

I swingin’ back to it because I didn’t really answer it directly, now did I? It’s basically followed up with another question: What if Clementine comes to regret leaving Lee instead of shooting him?

She herself even says that maybe she shouldn’t let him turn, and he tells her he doesn’t want her to have to do that. She listened to him, and left him behind to turn into one of the monsters that tore their world apart. She’s lived with the fact that she’s the reason Lee was bitten, that he died.... but there was always another thing that pricked needles into her guilt: Lee’s a walker. He’s going to spend the rest of eternity as a walker handcuffed to a heater. There is the big possibility that no one will ever find him, will never kill this walker version of him.

Was that the right thing to do? 

I don’t know about you, but the walker debate is kinda fun to explore, and oh boy, do they try to explore it in TFS.

It’s easy for us to be like “Nope, there is nothing to walkers because they’re dead. Nothing human is left behind. Leaving Lee is fine.” 

…but then I have to ask, why did most people shoot him when the episode released? Why do people still pick that option? You don’t want Lee to be a walker, but at the same time, it’s actually fine because nothing about him would be left behind?

Is it because you couldn’t handle seeing him as a walker and didn’t know if the ending would show it or not? It doesn’t, you know that now. Were you afraid he would hurt anyone else? Well, you chained him up. He’s not going anywhere. He’s no longer a threat. 

So why do so many people still choose to shoot Lee and insist it’s the right choice even if by this logic, it doesn’t matter if he’s a walker because it’s not him? Save the bullet, don’t put Clementine through that, right? 

Maybe you just like the way the tragedy plays out when Clementine shoots him, and that’s perfectly fine. Maybe you don’t believe there’s more to walkers, but still pick this because how can you not? It’s Lee! He can’t become a walker.

Again, I feel you. My reasons for always shooting him in the past were that. It’s Lee, he can’t become a walker. I can’t do that to him. I love him, and that would be wrong. 

But that’s the thing... I believe we’re not the only ones having this debate. Clementine is having this internal debate within herself at different points over the series, but it’s especially prominent in TFS. 

Lee asked her to leave him, but was that really the right thing to do? He took care of her, saved her life and taught her to survive, and after he was bitten, she left him to turn into a monster. He didn’t deserve that, but his final wish was for her to leave. Should she have shot him anyway, ignoring his wishes? Would that have been worse? Disrespectful? Is it okay to ignore his wish if you think he’s wrong and you think you know what’s best? 

What if there is a part of him still inside that walker form? There’s no way to know that. What if she condemned a part of him to cruel fate because she didn’t shoot him? What if he’s truly gone and she’s worrying herself over nothing? What if she had shot him and needed that bullet later, or what if the noise drew attention? 

...What about her parents? They were walkers, too... roaming the street together... are they suffering, too? Or are they truly gone? 

I believe this is what lead to her decision to tell AJ that if she ever gets bitten, he should shoot her. All of these thoughts and regrets can resurface depending on your choices, like in the dorms at the beginning of ep2.

AJ: You told me your friend Lee became a monster. But you didn't kill him... because he wasn't a threat. Is that why you didn't kill him?

Clementine: He didn't want me to. He said it would change me forever. But I know he...

AJ: He became a monster. Do you wish you did?

Clementine: Yeah.... Every day.

Or, alternatively:

Clementine: How can you ask me that? What you did is completely different.

AJ: I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to make you mad, at all.

Clementine: .....I...I can still hear him. Telling me not to do it.

AJ: I said I'm sorry.

Clementine: ...I still hear it, sometimes.

and yeah, yeah, I know that this isn’t canon for everyone. Reminder that this is my Clementine interpretation and it’ll probably differ from yours, hence why we’re going over these specific choices. 

Looking at these responses, Clementine admits that she wishes she had shot Lee, that even though he told her that it would change her and she shouldn’t have to... she still left him to die alone and change. Maybe she doesn’t even fully understand WHY he asked her to do that... why didn’t he ask her to shoot him? Did he think she couldn’t? Even though he kept telling her that she had it in her to defend herself? Wasn’t he scared of what would happen afterward? What if Lee was so sick and out of it due to the bite that he wasn’t thinking right? 

Again, all these kinds of questions could possibly run through her mind, which in turn affects her choice with AJ. She doesn’t want him to go through what she did, to regret letting her turn into another monster. It’ll change him to shoot her, but it’ll also change him to let her turn.... maybe shooting her is the lesser of two evils. 

The thing about Clementine is that she’s not a perfect teacher, she doesn’t have all the answers, and all of her experiences reflect in the choices she makes with AJ. She’s trying her best. She loves AJ, he’s her family and she wants what’s best for him. She wants him to be strong, to be a better survivor who can take care of himself if something ever happened to her. But, she’s doesn’t know everything, and she forgets that yeah, AJ’s a kid... and so is she. She’s not some thirty something who has all this world experience and can always make logical decisions in every situation, and neither was Lee. 

AJ sees this towards the end of the season when he starts questioning her.

AJ: I always listened to Clem. Always. But...I've been thinking more. I don't know if she's right every time.

So while she truly believes that this is the best thing... she also won’t take AJ himself into account. Well, she does but she fails to ask him what he wants, what he thinks, and when he starts questioning her, she becomes defensive and makes him promise that he’ll shoot her even though he’s saying he doesn’t want to. 

Which leads me to two particular scenes that I think reopen the wounds and reaffirm Clementine’s thoughts and fears. We’ll start with the obvious one: James. 

I know it’s easy to just call James and his dumb walkers crazy, that walkers aren’t people, yada yada. But for fun, let’s indulge him for a moment. James is a fascinating character study with the way he’s come to view walkers, and he eventually shares these beliefs with Clementine when she asks him for help, and when you leave Lee to turn, you get this conversation:

James: They used them as a weapon. I do this...to protect them. I know it sounds strange. But that's why I brought you here. To see them as I do. As people.

Clementine: As...people?

James: Well, not people, exactly. But... Something in between. Part of us is still in there. Deep down. So few of us die anymore. We turn. Not dead, not alive.

Clementine: God, I hope that's not true. That sounds like Hell.

James: To you, maybe. I think it seems...peaceful.

AJ: Do you really think there's people inside of monsters?

James: Somewhere, yes. Think about it this way... Has someone you cared about turned?

Clementine doesn’t respond.

AJ: Clem's friend, Lee. She let him... but wishes she didn’t. 

James: Do you really think...there's nothing left of who he was?

Here’s where my Clementine will remain silent, as you can either agree or disagree with him which doesn’t feel right for her, in this case. Though a little annoying that James takes your silence personally and won’t talk about Charlie later BUT that’s a topic for another ramble. 

Anyway, Clementine doesn’t want to think about this. She’s thought about it enough, let it eat away at her longer than she should’ve, and now James is here asking her if she truly believes there’s nothing left inside the walker Lee became? She doesn’t have time to reflect on this, she has to get James’ help to save her friends. 

However, I believe this conversation stuck with her, and that’s why she gets more defensive when AJ brings up the idea that if Clem gets bit, then she should bite him, too. Like.... No, absolutely not, AJ. That’s not what we agreed on to do if she gets bit. He’ll shoot her. 

Clementine: AJ, we've talked about this. A lot. If I get bit, you know what has to happen.

AJ: I don't want to talk about this anymore.

Clementine: But you brought it up, so we're going to.

AJ: It does something weird to my stomach. Like I'm gonna get the dookies.

Clementine: AJ, I need to know you remember what we talked about. What you're supposed to do if it happens. Listen to me. If I get bit, you'll...?

AJ doesn’t respond.

Clementine: Shoot--

AJ: No! No, I'm not gonna do that.

Clementine: AJ, you promised.

AJ: I don't care. I'm not gonna shoot you! If you get bit, I'd want you to bite me, too.

Clementine: What? You don't mean that.

AJ: I don't want to be alone. Please don't be mad. I can't live with you not with me, Clem. I know we've talked about it. So much. But don't make me.

And like.... here’s an interesting thing if Clementine doubles down on this:

Clementine: Alvin Junior, if you have a gun, you shoot me. If you don't, you use your knife. No knife, a rock to the head. As many times as you have to.

AJ: I said I don't wanna!

Clementine: I don't care what you said. You will do it.

AJ: I don't care what you say!

Clementine: Goddamn it, AJ! You can't break promises.

Like jesus. She is once again so blinded by what she believes is right and what is the best option for AJ that she’s not even thinking about the fact that she’s telling him that yeah, if you have no other options, bash my face in with a rock! Holy shit, Clementine! She isn’t understanding a big thing here, the thing that factored into why Lee told her to leave him. 

Of course, there are less harsh responses but I find that one particularly interesting.

Now, lemme explore the other scene: Abel. 

So, the beginning of ep3 has Clementine and AJ talking to a tied up Abel about where the raiders took our friends. But it doesn’t take long before Abel starts spitting up blood and panicking that something’s wrong. 

Abel: Shit... I never wanted things to end like this. Everything...it all got out of hand. Now look at me. I'm a fucking mess.

AJ: Will he turn?

Abel: No! ...My...my whole life, everything I ever got, I got with my own two hands and...and my will. For my body to turn on me...to take control... I'll tell you where to find Lilly. Just promise you won't let me turn. I'm begging you.

Look, I hate Abel, he sucks..... but I also really like him as an antagonistic character and what they did with him here. 

So, we have Abel here begging for them to make sure he doesn’t turn... because Abel believes that letting some turn is cruel, he’ll even admit that he believes there are people inside of walkers and that’s why you put a bullet in them, no one deserves to be a walker. 

Abel: You wouldn't do it...you wouldn't let me become...one of those things.  What if they...what if they can feel it...when they turn?!

And after he gives you the info-

Abel: You got what you wanted. Please, don't let me become one of those things. Please... I don't want to turn...

Do keep in mind that this happens before the James scene, too. Clementine’s already got this on her mind when she meets up with him and the barn scene plays out.... but this whole thing with Abel is a lot. You can be cruel and torture him or you can play nice, or you can do a bit of both. 

And by the way, if you let him turn, it reeeally fucks with AJ. So that’s fun. 

Now not only is Clementine trying to work out a plan to get her friends back and trying to protect AJ and all that, but she’s also dealing with these thoughts and ideas presented by Abel and James..... and like, yeah I know the Lee dream sequence was intended for fanservice and to make us cry.... but I dunno, kinda funny timing that she would have a dream about Lee that night after going through both of those events in the same day as well as doing prep to infiltrate the boat. 

While I love the dream sequence and this interpretation I’m talking about probably wasn’t all that intentional given that this would've been the perfect moment to explore or even hint at it but they don’t.... but it’s fine, it’s perfectly logical that she’s more worried about her friends who are still alive rather than if she did the right thing with Lee. 

I think it’s time I move onto the actual bitten Clementine stuff before this turns into a novel sooo.... Clementine gets bit after she and AJ get separated from Louis/Violet/Tenn. She’s bitten on her wounded leg, and after all the chaos of getting away from walkers and climbing up to safety... Clementine just lies there for a bit.

And you can feel it, y’know? She and AJ knew what happened, but Clementine still has to confirm it... and when she pulls away part of her boot to reveal the bite... she lets out a deep breath and says she got bit..... but they gotta keep moving forward. No time, gotta get up, gotta keep moving, gotta get AJ to safety. Nothing else matters. 

So they walk. They walk until it’s morning and Clementine starts to look awful... and I think most of us took this opportunity to tell AJ she loves him. 

Then all hell breaks loose, they’re surrounded by walkers and have to hide out in James’ walker barn, but Clementine’s too weak to fight. This is when the game starts to have us take control of AJ, switching us between the two as Clementine shoots walkers and AJ shuts the doors. 

Until Clementine runs out of ammo. 

The walkers are locked out, they’re catching their breath... and now they have a whole new problem to deal with. Clementine’s bitten, and AJ, similar to how little Clementine was, tells Clementine she needs to try to get up and leave with him. 

Clementine: Good job, AJ. You did it.

AJ: Now what?

Clementine: You need to find a way out of here.

AJ: We can climb up there. The monsters can't reach us up there. Let's go. Easy climb. C'mon. Please...try. You can't give up! You can't give up! I need you! I need you...

She can’t get up. 

Clementine: I'm so sorry, kiddo. This is just what happens sometimes.

AJ: But...but it wasn't supposed to happen to you!

Sigh.... now here it is. This is another big moment in Clementine’s character that changes everything. It’s that moment at McCarroll Ranch again- it all hits her at once. 

Clementine: I need to make sure you remember.

AJ: Remember what?

Clementine: The rules. What's number one?

AJ: Never...never go alone. So...so I can't leave. Not without you.

Clementine: AJ...

AJ: It's your rule!

Clementine: You won't be alone. Not for long. Get back to the school.

AJ: I don't know how.

Clementine: Sure you do. One of the first things I ever taught you. You need to make sure they can't smell you. So... grab that axe.

She’s dying, she’s going to die and leave AJ behind.

Clementine: Next rule: what do we do when the monsters come?

AJ: Clem...

Clementine: AJ...

AJ: Shoot them in the head.

Clementine: Got any more ammo?

AJ: There isn't any more.

Clementine: Okay, then. Fuck. And...the last rule?

AJ: I want to stay. With you. I know what will happen. And...and I don't care. I don't want to go. I just want to sit next to you and...and stay. Like that monster couple, from the train station. No one would hurt us. Just...sitting. Forever.

Clementine: I don't want you to leave, either.

AJ: Then don't make me!

Clementine: But it's not about what I want. It's about what you need. And you need to go.

AJ: Okay, Clem. Okay.

Clementine: Last rule.

AJ: No...

Clementine: What do we do if I get bit? ....Are you gonna make me say it? 

And this is Clementine truly realizes, understands for the first time why Lee made the choice he did... why he asked her to leave him.

Clementine: Just leave.

AJ: I can't let you turn into a monster.

Clementine: You have to.

AJ: But before, you said...

Clementine: I know. But now that we're here... My heart is saying something else.

She finally gets it. 

When Lee said she’s in his shoes now...? She IS in his shoes finally understanding a part of their situation years ago that she never could. For years, she questioned how he could ask her to leave him, WHY he did. She questioned if she did the right thing, regretted listening to him.... but now that they’re here and she’s presented with the same choice Lee was... she understands why her reasons for asking AJ to shoot her if she gets bitten were skewed, that what she thought was preventively protecting him from more hurt was only doing more damage. He’s already taken a life, and just like Lee said, he’s losing a part of himself every time he does it, and if she told him to shoot Lilly, too? and if he shot Tenn? 

What is killing Clementine with an axe going to do to AJ?

What is leaving Clementine to become a walker going to do to him?

What is the right thing to do?

Well, for Clementine, her answer is to ask him to leave. She knows she told him differently, but that was when this scenario was merely a “what if?” Now it’s happening and she sees the errors in her thinking, and no matter what happens now, she’s going to die. Maybe she’ll feel it, like Abel said. Maybe James is right and she’ll spend the rest of her undead life alone in this barn. Maybe nothing will happen. It doesn’t matter. 

But... we all know, AJ has another solution up his sleeve that Clementine never considered. 

He turns to leave her... and then turns back around and disobeys her wishes... and chops off her bitten leg. 

And she fucking survives. 

Clementine survives her walker bite. 

AJ did what little Clementine back in s1 couldn’t do... he didn’t listen to her, and this time, it worked in their favor. 

Clementine: When we were in the barn, you didn't listen to me. And if you had...I'd be dead. You'll have to be strong for the both of us.

AJ: You made it so I can. So...thank you. For everything.

Clementine: You're welcome. For everything.

Clementine still has a lot of things to work though, especially now that she only has one leg. She can’t move around the way she could before, she has to completely relearn how to walk on crutches, possibly a peg leg. She gets to sit down and breathe, rely on others and do some reflection on who she is and come to terms with all the pain she suffered, and grow from there. 

Now that she understands why Lee did what he did, she can take a step in the right direction of forgiving herself, to atone for all the mistakes she’s made and the people she’s hurt. 

She has a boyfriend/girlfriend/friends there at her side to listen and love her, she has AJ, she has her lovable pupper Rosie, and she has a home... for the first time since she was little, she has a home and she can find herself again. Keep movin’ forward. 

This is my favorite line of choices, my favorite way to interpret the connection between Lee and Clementine’s scenes, and how I view Clementine’s growth and understanding as a character in TFS. There are so many ways for it all to play out, no Clementine is the same between players, and I dunno I just... I find the whole thing so compelling. 

Clementine is such a fun character to discuss, to compare interpretations of, and I’m sorry for such a long post but this is another thing I’ve wanted to throw out there for a while. Now that I’m done, I’m gonna go make some tea and chill out. 

[nyxerebus]

Unlikely Companions (Daryl Dixon x Female reader/ PLATONIC! Carl x Reader) PART 2 !

Part 1: Unlikely Companions 1

here it is! Part 2. its a bit shorter but i hope you like it! Might make a part 3 :) heheheh.

“Oh, my sweet girl. I got you, I got you” Daryl was whispering sweet nothings and comfort into her ear. “(Y/N)” She looked up when a familiar voice called out for her. Two smaller arms wrapped around her neck and she looked back into Carls eyes. He was crying as well. Daryl looked very surprised, (and a bit angry) as Carl pushed him back to hug (Y/N). “I’m sorry I left you” He sobbed out. “Its okay, really I’m fine” It was hard being convincingly fine, when she was covered in blood with her shirt, and pants ripped open, and after just crying her eyes out.

“We should head back, you need to be checked out by Hershel” Rick spoke up. All the boys nodded. Daryl stood up and helped her up. When she was standing again, she noticed how bare she was. Her entire shirt was open, and bra was pushed down a bit. Her pants were unbuttoned and showed the front of her panties. “Oi! Quit ya’ starrin’! Fuckin’ perverts!” Daryl shouted and moved so he was blocking the guys view on her. A choir of ‘sorry’ came from the guys. They turned around and let Daryl help her get dressed. “Can you get my backpack? It’s the orange by the tree?”

“Why cant you get it yourself?” It sounded harsh and mean, but she knew better. She knew that this was his way of checking if she was hurt. “Okay, promise not to freak out too much” It was a stupid question, he was going to freak out even if she told him she broke her nail to hard. He nodded. “One of the guys might have stabbed me in the thigh, just a little bit though!”

“What!”

“You promised not to freak out!” She huffed out and moved her hand, that had been covering her wound. Blood was covering her hand. It didn’t really hurt, and she hadn’t noticed it until they stood up, that was mostly because adrenaline was still pumping through her body. She knew that when that died down, her bruises and wounds would hurt like a bitch. “Sit back down” He, carefully, pushed her down again and walked over to her bag. When he handed it to her she had buttoned up her pants. She fished out an hoodie. “Can the others see me?” She asked him, nervous about a group of strangers seeing her half naked. “Nah, I would beat’ them down’ if they peaked. Don’t ya’ worry’” He still stood in front of her and shielded her body. He looked back to make sure they weren’t looking, and yeah. They wouldn’t dare. But when his head turned back to her, his heart broke. She had taken of her ruined shirt and was about to put on her hoodie. But her soft skin was littered in bruises and scars, bruises and scars that weren’t there when they last saw each other.

He was going ask about the bruises, but she quickly covered the body with her hoodie, or more accurately, his hoodie. A smirked made it way on his (gorgeous) lips. The hoodie reached her down to her knees. “Come on, lets get you checked out”. He threw her bag across his shoulder, with his crossbow. (Y/N) was getting up, winching when she put her weight on her injured thigh. A gasp escaped her lips when she felt his arms wrap up under her thighs and behind her back, hoisting her up into a bridal style carry. (Y/N) didn’t protest and just let him do his thing, she knew he needed to take care of her.

When they got out of the forest, she saw a beautiful farm house with large acres. They walked over to the farm house. “Hey” She looked down and was met with Carl looking up at her. “Hey big man” He didn’t say anything else, just walked by her. “Carl!” Lori shouted and ran up to him. She hugged him and reached for Rick, “What happened?” When her eyes landed at (Y/N), “Who is that?”

“Hey, I’m (Y/N). Me and Carl have been camping together for- Will you please let me talk to her?” Daryl didn’t let her stay and chit chat with Lori. He walked straight pass her and into the house. “Nope, ya gotta get some medical help. Ya can talk later”. (Y/N) wayed back with an apologetic smile, to the very confused group of people. “Hershel! Where ya at!”. And old man walked out of what she assumed was the kitchen. He had an very annoyed look, until he saw her. “Who is this?”

“My girl, and she needs your treatment” Daryl didn’t let him answer and just walked into the room Carl had been staying inn when he got shot and laid her down on the bed. Hershel realized the importance of it when he saw blood on her hands and pants and the beginning of a huge bruise on her collar. “What happened”.

“Some assholes attacked her, she got stabbed and god knows what” Daryl gruffed out. “Where is the wound?” Hershel calmly asked, getting some equipment from a drawer. “On her thigh”

“Luckily that limits the damage, none of your organs are compromised” He sat down on a chair by the bed. Daryl was standing on the other side, holding her hand. “Now I am going to have to cut off your pants, pushing them down will only worsen the injury I’m afraid” She nodded, letting him do what ever just to heal her. Hershel carefully gut open her pants. Daryl didn’t like him having a knife so close too her skin, but bit back his complaints and worries. The stitching up went fine, though Daryl needed to hold her thigh down so she wasn’t squirming to much.

Even with the pain killers, her wound hurt, it hurt a lot! After the stitching, he had examined her head, concluding she had a concussion and a broken rib. Daryl had held her hand through the entire time. Never letting go. The darkness had reached the farm and Daryl and (Y/N) was huddled around a small campfire. She was laying in his arm crook, his arms and a blanket wrapped around her. It was silent between them, few words exchanged. But he would often place a kiss on her head and rub her arms and hands.

They only got a few minutes alone, until most of the group came and sat around the campfire with them. “Sorry, we wanted to let you guys have some time together, but we needed to ask you some question and get to know you a bit” Rick sat on the opposite side of them. Carl and Lori on either side of him. “I get that, I do! I’m an open book, ask away!” She wanted to seem as warm and welcoming as possible, knowing that Daryl was staring daggers at everyone of them. He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms tighter around her, almost using his arms to protect her.

“Before you all interrogate her, I just wanna thank you. Carl told me everything, and, and you saved his life” Lori was tearing up. “I want to thank you for saving him and taking care of him. For returning him back to us. Thank you” Rick nodded along, saying a thank you as well. “Can I ask a question?” Glenn was speaking up now. “I don’t mean to be rude, but how are you together? You are so, different!” This made her chuckle. It was true, they were very different. “Well, we met at the diner I was working at, and I don’t know. We just kind of clicked” She looked up at Daryl, smiling up at him. “For me it was love at first sight”.

As the night continued, (Y/N) answered all their questions and asked her own. Even though she couldn’t talk to Carl alone, she sent him some smiles through the conversation. He would always grin back. But she felt her eyelids becoming heavier and heavier. For the first time since the new world begin, she could sleep peacefully. She was never afraid when Daryl was holding her.

“Shhhh, (Y/N) is sleeping” Carl hushed everyone when they got a bit louder. They all looed over at her and sure enough, there she was; looking like an angel. “She didn’t sleep much when we were out, never more than three hours”

“Reckless woman” Daryl muttered out, wrapping the poncho tighter around her. He saw her shivering and saw the campfire dying down. “I’ll go get more wood” He didn’t allow anyone say anything, he just carefully lied her down (using his west as a pillow and slipped it under her head).

When Daryl disappears into the darkness, whimpering filled the camp. “Is she having a nightmare?” Lori asked. “N-no, get away” (Y/N)’s sleepy voice whispered out. “Should we go and get Daryl-” Carl stood up and walked over to her. “She did this last night, I can stop it” Everybody looked at Carl confused, and Lori felt her motherly protective side kick inn when Carl laid down next to (YN). She had to remind herself that too Carl she wasn’t a stranger and wasn’t a threat to any of them.

“What are you doing?” Rick whispered out, being very surprised when Carl threw his arms around her waist and snuggled into her back. Her whimpering slowly calmed down and eventually died down. No body could deny the sweetness of the moment between the two, it was clearly Carl had become very attached to her after their days in the woods.

“Oi! The hell is going on here” The sweet moment was cut short when Daryl retuned. He eyed Carl suspiciously as he stirred in the fire and added more wood planks. “She had a nightmare” Carl’s voice was muffled with her back. “I calmed her down”. Daryl felt his heart shouting at him, shouting for him to hold her and make sure she was okay. But there was something in the way, or more someone.

“Move kid” Daryl kicked at his feet, becoming tired of the child separating him from his love. Carl refused, snuggling even further into her back. Daryl was about to pull him off her when she turned around. She was still asleep but wrapped her arms around Carl and pulled her into him. Carl looked surprised but allowed her to pull him closer. Daryl huffed out but sat down next to her. His hands could not keep off of her and caressed her arm and back.

“Its getting late, we should head to bed. Como on carl” Fake snores could be heard from the young boy, hoping he could stay here if they thought he was sleeping. It didn’t work. “Nooooo” Rick pulled him up and carried him off, not without getting an ear full of complaint from the young boy. The incident woke her up, she looked around startled. Forgetting where she was. She sat up abruptly fearing the worst when she felt Carl being pulled away from her arms, reaching for her bow. “Its alright (Y/N), yar safe” Daryl reminded her that she was safe, no longer in the woods. She sank back down into his arms. “Go back to sleep baby, your safe” He reassured her and rubbed her back, calming her down, but she couldn’t sleep. Her body was so used to only three- or four-hours naps.

They both walked back to his tent, the wind picking up and they needed ‘walls’ to protect them from the cold winds. It was pretty small, so they had to huddle close together to fit on the small cot. She was practically laying on top of him (not that any of them mind). “God, I still can’t believe you’re here” Daryl whispered into the darkness. Her head was laying on his chest, being lulled into sleep by his steady heartbeat. “When it started, I went to your campus. But it was a mess, I feared the worst” She could hear his voice breaking. She lifted her head. (Y/N) knew to well what he talked about. When she left it was a mess. Dead everywhere. She barely made it out herself. Still amazed that she survived that.

“Don’t think about it, think about how I’m here! Were together and I am never leaving you” She was stroking his cheek, he nuzzled into her hand. “I know, I know. But, (Y/N), baby, I need to know. What happened to you before you met Carl” He was scared to ask, scared to hear about how she got her scars and bruises. She took a deep breath and told about how it took her a week to escape her dorm. Because the halls were filled with the dead, she was alone, starving, until she finally broke out. It costed her a lot, having too run through broken glass, and being pushed and pull by hundreds of hundreds of hands. Tears welled up in her eyes at the memory of having too drive her knifes and arrows into her friends and teachers. “Come her’ sweet girl” Daryl pulled her square against his chest. Rubbing her back. “It felt good to take care of Carl” She admitted. “To take care of someone and not being forced to kill was good” She would often take care of those around her, taking a motherly role. Daryl knew this, remembering how she would often pack him lunch, make sure he slept and getting him to take care of her.

“But when those guys attacked us” She held back a sob. “I was so scared Daryl. They held me down, a-and” she couldn’t finish the sentence. Daryl pulled her even closer, anger building up at the memory of finding them holding his girl down. “If you hadn’t come, if they had caught up to Carl, god, I cant think of what would have happened if they had gotten us both” Tears were rolling down her face.

“baby, we can’t thin’ too much about’ it. It will drive us’ crazy” Daryl could not stand the thought about what would have happened. “We need to sleep” He needed her to sleep. “I cant” He looked down at her questioning. She didn’t meet his gaze. “I’m afraid” His heart broke for the tenth time that day. “Ya need to sleep’, Carl told me ya’ haven’t slept good- so I will stay up and watch out, okay?” She was hesitant but agreed. Feeling safer knowing that he was watching over her, that’s how she was able to fall asleep at the fire.

“I will stay up for ya, stay up forever if I have to”

[drabbles-mc]

Passing Through

Bishop Losa x F!Reader

Request by @masterlistforimagines​: Okay so reader is passing through Santo Padre for some reason. Her car breaks down, and Bish is her mechanic. I’m thinking like super cute and flirty Bish

Warnings: language, alcohol, Bish being a flirt with a capital F

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: I feel like I always let myself get carried away with requests from you. Like they almost always take on a life of their own once I start writing them. Thank you for loving me and continuing to send them to me regardless lmao. We get a few of our other MC boys in this fic too. Hope y’all enjoy! xo

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You’d been driving for practically 2 days straight. It was your own doing—you wanted to go all up and down the coast while you had the opportunity. You didn’t know the next time you would get a few weeks off. However, the first leg of your journey you took your sweet time and didn’t really plan things out, which left you in the tiniest bit of a time-crunch as things were coming to a close. It was impressive that your car had made it this far to begin with. It wasn’t exactly new, but it had always gotten the job done. You knew that this was a big ask, though, and the universe was finally coming to collect.

You sat on the hood, soaking up the sun while you waited for the tow truck to get there. Music was playing from the speaker of your phone as you recounted all of the adventures that you had had so far. If it hadn’t been such a good trip already, this mishap would’ve been far more upsetting. You were in too good of a headspace to be upset, though. Whatever the deal was with your car, you’d figure it out one way or another.

When you saw the tow truck approaching, you shut the music off and hopped down off the hood of your car. You stretched out, trying to gear yourself up for whatever the next leg of your journey was going to be. The truck parked in front of your car and one man hopped out of each side of the vehicle. You bit back a laugh at how different the two of them seemed.

“Are you Y/N?” one man approached you with a clipboard.

You took note of his hands but expressly tried not to stare. Besides, the smile he greeted you with was contagious it was difficult to focus on much else as you nodded, “Sure hope so. Otherwise someone else out there is having just as bad of luck as me.”

He nodded as he handed you the clipboard, “Just need you to fill out this form here for me, Miss.”

You smiled as you took the clipboard and pen from him, “I think I can handle that,” you continued to speak to him as you filled out the paperwork, “What’s your name?”

“Chucky.”

Your eyes flicked up from the paper as you smiled at him, “Nice to meet you, Chucky,” you nodded towards the man who was in the middle of hooking your car up to the tow truck, “Who’s your friend over there?”

“The one and only Johnny ‘Coco’ Cruz.”

You laughed, “One and only, huh?” you handed the clipboard back to him, “Seems like you might know a lot of people who are one-of-a-kind.”

The drive back to the mechanic shop was much more comfortable than you thought it was going to be. Chucky never seemed to run out of things to talk about, which was refreshing. Coco was quiet for most of the ride, chiming in here and there but staying silent for the most part as Chucky drove. The two of them made you wonder what the rest of the people were like at the shop they were taking you to.

When you rolled into the lot, Chucky hopped out and motioned for you to do the same while Coco set about getting your car off the tow truck and into the shop. Part of you wanted to watch it all happen, but Chucky needed you to fill out the rest of the paperwork and answer a few more questions. When he asked you about a rental, you asked if you could see what the damage was on your car before answering that.

You walked over to where your car was being worked on. From the angle you were standing at, you couldn’t see exactly who it was that was working on your car. It was just a pair of legs sticking out from underneath your vehicle. You found a stool to sit on while you waited for whoever it was to resurface so you could ask what exactly was going on and if you were going to need to find a new car to get back home in.

After a few minutes, they rolled back out. He sat up, eyes immediately locking onto yours. You smiled, eyebrows raising slightly as you took in the sight of him. He wiped his hands off on the rag tucked in the pocket of his jeans.

“She yours?” he nodded towards the car.

You sighed, “Depends on what you’re about to tell me.”

He chuckled as he shook his head, “Nothing that we can’t fix.”

“Is it gonna cost me an arm and a leg?”

“It shouldn’t, no,” he stood up, leaning back against your car, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

The simple pet name shouldn’t have made your face feel hot, but it did, “It’s Y/N. But you can keep calling me sweetheart if you like,” you paused, “You?”

He laughed at your response before holding out his hand, “Bishop.”

“Nice to meet you, Bishop,” it was hard to take your eyes off of his lips and beard. You shook your head to dispel the thoughts, “So, what exactly is wrong with my car? And can you fix it in the cheapest way possible? I just gotta make it back home.”

He smiled at you, “Back home?”

You nodded, “Yea. Had a couple weeks off between jobs and decided to take advantage of it. Probably should’ve used that time to go car shopping though, huh?”

He chuckled, “Maybe.”

You listened as he outlined what was wrong with your car and how he planned to fix it. You were focusing on what he was saying for the most part, but it was easy to get distracted as you watched the way the muscles in his shoulders and arms flexed as he moved and shifted. You were practically salivating by the time that he finished talking.

“You got all that, sweetheart?” he asked with a laugh, knowing that you had definitely tuned out at a few different points as he spoke.

“I got the important parts,” you said, not trying to deny that you let your mind wander.

“How long are you in town for?” he asked, a curious glint in his eyes.

“At least until you fix my car,” you laughed.

“Maybe I should take my time then.”

You smiled, crossing your arms over your chest, “I don’t know how professional that would be of you, Bishop.”

“First you want me to call you sweetheart, and now you want me to be professional?” he laughed, eyes crinkling at the edges, “You’ve gotta pick one or the other.”

You smiled, nodding, “Fair enough,” you paused, “How about this?” you saw the curiosity written all over his face as you continued, “I’ll budget an extra night or two in Santo Padre into my plans, that way you don’t gotta drag out fixing my car. Besides,” you smiled, “I can’t afford to pay for three days’ worth of labor.”

He smiled and nodded, “Alright. That sounds fair. In that case I could have you up and running by tonight.”

“Just in time for you to take me out for a drink?”

He smiled, “Yea. But I wouldn’t make you take your car for that.”

“Oh? You wouldn’t?”

He shook his head as he gestured towards the row of motorcycles, “I’ll take you out on the town in style.”

You laughed, “Can’t wait,” you stood up off the stool, “I guess I’ll let you get to work then. I know I can be a bit distracting.”

“You’re a welcome distraction,” he nodded towards the building behind you, “If you wanna get outta the heat you can go wait in the clubhouse. My guys will take care of you.”

“Wow,” you tucked your hands into your pockets, “feel like I’m getting the royal treatment.”

He smiled, “Because you are,” he walked over to his toolbox and started taking a few things out, “I’ll come and get you when I’m done.”

You made your way over to the clubhouse. You glanced back over your shoulder and saw Bishop standing there, watching you walk away. You couldn’t help but to flash him a smile as you continued to make your way away from him.

When you pushed open the door to the clubhouse, suddenly everything began to make a lot more sense. You saw multiple men walking around with kuttes on, which explained why you got the feeling the place was a bit like the island of misfit toys. It took all kinds. However, despite the fact that it was home base for the local MC, it didn’t feel like an intimidating place to be. You felt perfectly comfortable as you approached the bar and took a seat.

“What can I get you?” the young man behind the bar offered you a sweet smile as he asked the question.

You clocked the prospect patch on his kutte as you looked him over, “Just water, please. Just trying to get outta the heat.”

“What brings you here? Don’t think I’ve seen you before,” he noted as he handed you a bottle of water.

You sighed slightly, “Car broke down,” you took a sip of your water, “One of your guys is working on it now, though. Bishop?”

The man behind the bar looked surprised, and the man who was sitting a couple stools down from you couldn’t refrain from making a comment. He turned towards you, “Damn, Bish is working on your car?” he chuckled, shaking his head, “Been a minute since I seen Pres get his hands dirty out there. You know him?”

You shook your head, “Don’t know any of you guys, actually.”

He moved to the stool next to yours, holding out his hand, “I’m Angel,” he nodded towards the man behind the bar, “That knucklehead is EZ.”

You laughed as you shook his hand, giving a courteous nod to EZ, “Nice to meet you both. I’m Y/N.”

The three of you sat and chatted while you waited for Bishop to finish up your car. You laughed as you listened to the two of them banter back and forth. For as much as you wished that your car hadn’t broken down, there were a lot worse people to be spending your afternoon with, so you really couldn’t complain.

“So I met Chucky and Coco,” you said as you sipped on your water.

“The dynamic duo,” EZ said with a laugh as he cleaned the glasses behind the bar.

“Is that right?” you asked with a smile.

“Nah, we all love Chucky,” Angel said, “But him and Coco are on the same wavelength sometimes. Shit’s weird.”

You were listening to the two of them dive into another story when a different voice cut through the conversation, “These guys bothering you?”

You laughed as you turned around to face Bishop, “Not at all. They’ve been perfect gentlemen.”

He raised one eyebrow as he looked back and forth between EZ and Angel, “I find that hard to believe.”

You chuckled, shaking your head, “What’s the verdict on my car, presidente?”

Angel and EZ biting back their laughter was audible. Bishop shot them a look but the serious expression only lasted for a moment as a smile broke out across his face, “So I see the three of you have been talking.”

“We have,” you leaned back against the smile, “I’ve also been informed that I have to be pretty high up on the totem pole in order for you to be the one to work on my car.”

He shook his head with a quiet laugh, “Something like that.”

“You decide to work on my car just because you thought I was cute, Bishop?”

“If I say yes are you gonna be mad?”

You laughed, shaking your head, “Not at all.”

“Then…yes.”

You couldn’t contain your laughter at his response. And you also couldn’t help but to notice the surprised looks on the faces of EZ and Angel as they watched you and Bishop go back and forth. Something told you that the Bishop that you were talking to, wasn’t the Bishop that they were used to seeing. That in and of itself was very interesting to you.

“But in answer to your original question,” Bishop got the conversation back on track, “Your car should be good to go.”

“Perfect, thank you so much,” you hopped off the stool, “I’ll go square everything up with Chucky, then.”

Bishop shook his head, his hand catching you by the waist when you went to walk by him, “You’re all set.”

“Bishop,” you folded your arms across your chest, “I can’t just let you not charge me.”

He nodded slowly, “Alright. First round is on you tonight then. Deal?”

You nodded, knowing that that was as much as you were going to be able to get him to budge, “Deal.”

“Let me go clean up and change. I’m sure these two can keep you amused in the meantime.”

You laughed, nodding, “I think so.”

He let his fingers trail lightly across the small of your back as he walked away. This time it was your turn to watch him, biting down lightly on your bottom lip as you did. You stepped back and found your seat once more at the bar, not able to return your attention to the men in front of you until Bishop was completely out of sight.

“Seriously,” Angel said with a laugh, “who are you?” he shook his head, “Never seen Bish flex so hard around someone.”

You laughed, “It’s because he knows he’s on a time crunch. Can’t play the long-game.”

“Time crunch?” EZ spoke up.

You nodded, “Yea, I’m just passing through. Honestly, Santo Padre wasn’t even really a stop I was planning to make before my car shit the bed,” you chuckled with a shrug, “But now that I’m here I might as well make the most of it. Told Bishop I’d budget in some extra time here if he could make it worth my while.”

“Damn,” Angel shook his head with a smile, “you really put him on the spot like that, huh?”

“He certainly didn’t seem to mind,” you laughed.

“Yea, I’ll bet he didn’t,” there was a knowing smirk on Angel’s face as he lifted his beer bottle to his lips.

Before you could try to pry further into what he meant by that, Bishop reappeared in a fresh set of clothes and his kutte. You couldn’t hide the fact that you were gawking at him as he approached you. He smiled as he approached you, holding out a hand to help you hop down off the stool.

“Ready if you are.”

You nodded, “I was born ready,” you laughed as he draped an arm around your waist and guided you back towards the door to the clubhouse.

“Anywhere in particular you’re looking to go?”

You shook your head, “You’re calling the shots tonight, Pres.” You heard Angel let out a whistle from the bar at your statement and you couldn’t help but to laugh. You turned to look at Bishop as the two of you exited the clubhouse, “Your guys seem pretty happy for you.”

He chuckled and shook his head, “Yea, something like that.”

You let him guide you over to the bikes. You weren’t sure if you should mention to him that you had never ridden one before. But he must’ve seen the look of slight apprehension on your face because he gave you a reassuring smile as he handed you a spare helmet.

“It’s not that bad. Just hang onto me and you’ll be fine.”

You smiled at him as you clipped the helmet on, “That sounds like an easy direction to follow.”

He got onto his bike and helped you to do the same, giving you a moment to get situated. You draped your arms lightly around his waist, but the second the bike roared to life your hold on him instantly tightened, causing him to laugh. He checked one last time that you were good to go and once you said yes, he shot out of the compound. You were holding onto him so tight that you were afraid you were going to crack one of his ribs, but he didn’t say anything.

A few miles into the ride, you finally loosened your hold on Bishop a little, allowing him to breathe with ease. You could feel his body vibrating with laughter as you slowly found your comfort.

“You good, sweetheart?”

You laughed as you leaned against him, “All good.”

Of all the towns that you could’ve gotten stranded in for an afternoon, you were glad that it was Santo Padre. And if there was anyone worth switching up your travel plans for, you had a feeling that it was Bishop.

[sageinacage]

summary: tommy goes down to pay his two best friends, ranboo and tubbo, a visit a/n: part 2 to the ranboo and tubbo meet up fic! this is just 3/4 tickles, there isn't too long of an intro LOL warnings: swearing w/c: 3.9k

IRL

~

‘Open the door, bitch!’ Tommy texted Tubbo, waiting impatiently at the door of his place. “Tommy’s here!” He exclaimed to Ranboo, running up to let his other best friend in. Ranboo perked up excitedly, running up to hug the blonde.

“Why are you so tall?!” Tommy complained, a smirk growing on Ranboo’s face. “How’s life at 6’1?” He started, his smirk growing into a full grin.

“I AM NOT 6’1 YOU LITTLE-”

“Alright, alright!” Tubbo laughed, intervening in their instant bickering. “I was expecting at least 5 minutes of peace before you two set off.” He continued, his smile never leaving his face as he spoke. “This is peace.” Tommy crossed his arms, glaring up at Ranboo.

“Don’t look at me, you started it!” Ranboo chuckled, putting his hands up. Tommy just huffed, looking at Tubbo. “I have to deal with this loser?!” He joked, pointing at the tall boy next to him. “Tommy please!” Tubbo laughed, playfully pushing him.

“I know you aren’t calling me the loser-”

“Ranboo you too!” Tubbo yelled, smiling widely at his friends’ antics. “How about you two have to get along for 5 minutes, then you’ll get a reward.” You see, he was initially joking, but both of them immediately agreed and he didn’t have a reward.

“I’ll be fine as long as this bitch doesn’t talk to me-” Tommy started, earning another playful shove but by Ranboo this time. “You just ruined the timer! We have to start over now!” Ranboo sighed in mock disappointment, sitting down on Tubbo’s bed.

“Not my fault.” Tommy sneered, Tubbo rolling his eyes and pinching the tip of his nose near his eyes. “Yes, it was- okay. I am not fighting with you.” Ranboo laughed, leaning back. “Scared?” Tommy challenged, putting a sassy hand on his hips.

“No- what?! I am not scared of you!”

“Sounds like it!”

“Will you two just lay off?!” Tubbo laughed, sitting near Ranboo on his bed. “Not until Ranboo fights me.” Tommy glared at the boy who was currently laying back on Tubbo’s bed and groaning in fake annoyance.

“I’m not going to fight you! It would be too easy of a fight, Tommy!” Ranboo rebuttals, cackling as he heard a growl emit from the boy. “YOU WOULD NOT!” He yelled back, stepping towards Ranboo. “Yeah? You think so?” He sat up, a devilish smirk on his face.

Tubbo shook his head, getting up to sit at the foot of his bed to avoid getting stuck in the middle of their ‘fight.’ Tommy took full advantage of that, going to the bed to throw ‘punches’ at Ranboo, aka just gently bopping his fists at him.

“Ow, ow! Stop bullying me!” Ranboo playfully cried in fake pain, falling back down. “Yeah, bitch! Get downed!” Tommy exclaimed triumphantly, flexing his ‘muscles.’ Tubbo sighed at their playful antics, shaking his head as a grin formed on his face.

“Now it’s your turn to get bullied!” Ranboo shot up and pulled Tommy in, the boys immediately begging to wrestle. “I swear to god- you two just don’t stop, do you?” Tubbo laughed, watching this all unfold.

It was all fun and games, those two trying to get the upper hand for god knows what, until a loud squeal tore through the room. “Oh- are you okay? Did I hurt you? Ranboo scuttled off of Tommy, and the boy sat there, completely unharmed.

“No you didn’t, d-don’t worry-”

“Are you ticklish, Tommy?” Tubbo tilted his head back, smiling at the blonde. “I AM NOT!” Tommy yelled, furious that he’d accuse him of such a statement. “I think somebody is ticklishhhh!” Ranboo sang, climbing on the bed again.

“Fuck you, man!” Tommy grumbled, failing to notice Ranboo and Tubbo making eye contact with each other with the widest grins. He only noticed them getting closer when the bed started to shift, Tommy immediately beginning to curl up.

“Why are you curling up on us? You didn’t lie, did you, Tommy?” Tubbo asked innocently, Ranboo snickering at Tommy’s small noise of protest. “I think he’s lying to us, Tubbo!” He smirked, hovering over the embarrassed boy.

“What should we do about that then, Ranboo?”

“I think you know.”

“G-guys… waiAHAIT-” Another squeal left him, squirming frantically as Tubbo’s hands latched to his upper ribs, squeezing repetitively right in that spot. “Did he already find a bad spot?” Ranboo cooed, dragging his nails down over the other side of his ribcage, finding his lower ribs, and gently digging his fingers into the bones.

“We barely even started, don’t even try to get away, Toms.” Tubbo teased, wiggling two of his fingers into his underarms, Tommy’s arm shooting down. “SHUhut uhuhup! You bihihitch!” He blurted, looking away from Tubbo. “You’ve trapped my hand, I guess I’ll just have to do… this!”

Tommy lost it as he felt impetuous fingers vibrating to his underarm, clamping his arm down tighter to try to avoid the sensations, but he just made it worse.

“Awww, it’s like he just wants you to tickle him, Tubbo!” Ranboo sniggered, walking his fingers off of his ribcage and towards his waist, light scratching and teasing the skin. “Rahanboo thahat’s so baHAHAD- TUHUHUBBO!” Tommy shrieked, flailing his arms as the mischievous boy snuck his other hand into Tommy’s other underarm, giving it the same treatment as the one he was already tickling.

“I had no idea you were this ticklish, this is fun!” Tubbo exclaimed, smiling down at his friend then to Ranboo, who returned the smile. “I gotta agree with ‘ya, I’m having a blast right now,” Ranboo cooed, copying the tactic Tubbo did and moving his arm to tickle both sides of his waist.

“THIHIS IS STUHUHUPID!” Tommy returned with a cackle, throwing his head back as the ticklish sensations took over him. “It’s stupid? Why’re you laughing then?” Tubbo asked innocently, tittering to himself as he forced his hands out of Tommy’s iron grip, only to crawl them down his ribcage.

Tommy was about to call him another name but got interrupted with a screech as Ranboo discovered his hips. “NONONO- RAHAHANBOO!” Tommy kicked his legs, bucking his hips up in response. “That’s my name! What’s up, Tom?” Ranboo asked with a wide smile, chuckling as he vibrated his thumbs into the cluster of nerves on his hip bones.

“Ranboo, I think you found another spot! Isn’t that right, Tommy?” Tubbo looked down at his cackling friend, smiling at his huge, happy smile and laugh. He snapped out of his daze, scooting down the bed to curiously squeeze one of his thighs.

With the squawk and violent kick Tommy produced, he grinned to himself in triumph. He moved to sit on top of his legs, squeezing both of his hands down his thighs and right above his knee. “T-TUHUHUBBO!” Tommy chortled, getting visibly nervous as his knees were another bad spot of his and he knew that.

“Yeees?” He asked, immediately squeezing his kneecap, the poor boy howling with laughter and throwing his head back once again. “YOHOHOU’RE A BIHIHITCH!” Tommy protested, trying to throw Tubbo off. “That wasn’t nice!” Ranboo scolded, poking his tummy. With the squeak Tommy produced, Ranboo smiled at tubbo, before forming his hand into a claw and fluttering it into his tummy.

“NOOHOHOAHAHA SHIHIHIT!” He laughed out, weakly pushing at Ranboo’s hands. “What? What’s wrong? Hmmm?” Ranboo sneered, switching to scribbling his nails onto either side of his belly. “FUHUHUCK YOHOU!” Tommy spat, immediately regretting his decision as he felt Tubbo’s nails under his knees.

“GEHET OHOUT!” He protested, his legs being trapped making it feel even more ticklish. “Whyyyy? I like this spot!” Tubbo teased, his nails barely tracing the undersides of his knees. The mix of the more playful and rougher tickles on his tummy and gentle tickles under his knees was driving Tommy insane, but he really didn’t mind.

It was fine, until Tommy noticed Ranboo’s head start to tilt down. “RAHANBOO DOHON’T YOU DAHARE-” He growled, trying to push at his head to get it away from his ticklish tummy. “What if I do dare, Tommy?” He asked with a tone that Tommy did not trust, and made him incredibly flustered.

“Awww, are you blushing?” Tubbo gleefully asked, his nails raking up and down the backs of his thighs at this point, which was driving Tommy mad. “NO!” Tommy screeched out, catching Ranboo off guard which put himself in a laughing fit. Tubbo smiled at both of his laughing friends, playfully sighed as he scooted up to finish Ranboo’s job, planting a raspberry on the side of his belly.

“TUHUHUHUBBO NOHOHO!” Tommy pleaded, the raspberry catching it off guard as he began to push at Tubbo’s head. Tubbo grumbled, wrapping his arms around Tommy’s waist so he would get pushed up, and continuing to place small raspberries around his tummy.

“You’re like a leech, Tubbo!” Ranboo joked, holding Tommy’s wrists with one of his hands. Tubbo laughed at his jest, making the sensations tickle worse on Tommy’s poor tummy. “I HAHAHATE YOU BOHOTH!” He claimed, kicking his legs behind Tubbo.

“Awww, do you? Do you really?” Ranboo giggled, his freehand finding his hip again to latch on and squeeze. The force of Tommy’s hips almost flew Tubbo off, causing Ranboo to start cackling yet again. Tubbo hummed, sitting back up and smiling down at him.

“I DOHOHO!” Tommy squealed as he felt fingers on either side of his ribcage, but with different tactics. Ranboo hand was slow and steady, slowly dragging up and back down, the sensations slowly becoming more and more unbearable. Tubbo on the other hand, he’s being a little shit, to say the least.

His fingers were relentlessly squeezing the bones, and gently digging into each groove in between each rib. Tommy couldn’t tell which side was worse, but the sensations together were slowly becoming too much. “I CAHAHAN’T-” Tommy managed to babble out a few words of mercy before his laughter took over, unable to form any more words.

“That was funny.” Ranboo grinned, leaning back. Tubbo smiled, helping Tommy rub out all the phantom tickles which he greatly appreciated. “Yeheah, that was funny, wahas it?” He breathed out sarcastically, glaring at the tall boy leaning by him.

“Yep.”

“I’ll show you something funny, bitch!”

Tommy lunged at Ranboo, instantly kneading his hands into the boy’s waist. “WHAhaht why?!” He whined, attempted to push off his hands from his body. “I mean, you were mean. You kinda deserve it.” Tubbo sniggered, gently fluttering his fingers over his knee.

“Yohou trahAHAITOR!” Ranboo accused, earning an exaggerated gasp from Tommy. “How dare you accuse him of such crimes!” He exclaimed playfully, reaching his other hand around to squeeze his side. He jumped, trying to squirm away from the opposing hand.

“Yeah, I’m so hurt. I guess I’ll just have to teach you a lesson into not bullying me.” Tubbo giggled mischievously before latching his hand onto the spot above Ranboo’s knee, squeezing mercilessly. “NOHOHO- Oh gohohod!” He hiccuped kicking his leg out in front of him in reflex.

“Did you just try to kick me, Ranboo? You just never learn to stop bullying!” Tubbo shook his head and clicked his tongue, his hand never faltering the tickle attack. “I NEHEHEVER DID ANYTHIHING!” He rebuttals, gently pushing more at Tommy’s hands that now found his hips.

“Wow Ranboo, now you’re just lying. I can’t believe you.” Tommy furrowed his eyebrows and smirked before drilling his thumbs into his hip bones, just like Ranboo did to him. “THAHAT'S SO BAHAHAD! TOHOMMY!” Ranboo arched his back, cackles escaping from him. “What? Just giving you a taste of your own medicine is all.” He laughed, his thumbs now just making gentle circles into the bones.

For some reason, this seemed to send Ranboo into more hysterics than he was in before, and Tubbo was instant to catch on. “Tommy, I think being gentle might work better…” He thought out loud, testing out the waters and just reaching up to glide his nails along his belly. It seemed to work like predicted, Ranboo’s laughter kicking up an octave and his back arching higher into his hand.

“Why is that so cute?!” Tommy admitted, smiling as Ranboo let out a squeak and covered his face. “Awwwh, are you flustered Ranboo? Is your lil tummy a bit ticklish? I think it isss!” Tubbo baby talked, giggling as he raised his arms to cover his face fully. “NOOooohohoho! Shuhut up!” He protested, exaggerated gasps falling from both of his friends’ mouths.

“I know you did not just tell us to shut up,” Tommy spoke lowly into his ear, causing Ranboo’s blush to grow further on his face to where it was visible on his ears. “He’s blushing so much!” He pointed out, wiggling a finger teasingly over his exposed neck.

“NO- *snort* SHIHIHIT-” Ranboo tried to roll away in embarrassment, it all getting worse when both Tommy and Tubbo cooed at his snort. “You’re not going anywhere, Snortboo!” Tubbo exclaimed, sneaking his hands up his hoodie to skitter over his belly.

Tommy on the other plan had his own plan, as he also snaked up his hand under the backside of his hoodie, dragging his blunt nails down his spine and wriggling them gently over his mid-back. So now Ranboo was stuck on his side, two of his sweet spots being tickled and nowhere to go.

“AHAHAHEHE- THIHIS IS SO UNFAHAIR!” Ranboo shrieked, unable to rock forward or back with the tickly sensations on both sides of him. “Is it though? You seem to be having fun!” Tommy retorted, using his free hand to go back to squeezing his hips.

“It’s like Ranboo is stuck in our trap, nowhere to escape, unable to escape the tickles…” Tubbo stated, the boy whining shaking his head. They both apparently knew how to really push Ranboo’s buttons, as his face was full pink, including his ears. “S..SHUHUT UP TUHUHUBBO!” He wheezed, a surprised shriek emitting from him as Tommy seemed to have found another tickle spot.

Tommy’s fingers danced around where his back met his sides, trailing up and down while his fingers slowly wiggled. “Oooh, that’s a fun spot! Let me try something…” Tubbo giggled evilly, crawling over to lean down. He wasn’t going to-

“TUHUHUBBO- *snort* EEEHEHEHEH!” Ranboo convulsed, Tubbo actually blew a raspberry and it tickled like hell. He jolted so much that he managed to flip onto his back. “That was so cute, Ranboo! Do it again!” He smiled, lightly scribbling his nails over the same spot on both sides, now.

“YOHOU’RE SO MEHEHEAN!” He complained, devilish snickers emitting from the other two. “Isn’t that the point, smarty?” Tommy scoffed, lifting his arms to sit on them then immediately lowering his hands to vibrate into his underarms. Poor Ranboo, he thought that was about to be the end of him- he’s never felt so ticklish before.

He was lost in his thoughts until that wonderful terrible nibbling returned on his tummy. “NOHOT AGAHAIN- *snort* TUHUHUHUBBO! QUIHIT IT!” Ranboo threatened, trying to buck the boy off as he felt the phantom tickles everywhere. “Y’know, we would stop if you genuinely asked, and you seem to be enjoying this.” Tommy observed, an embarrassed hiccup emitting from Ranboo.

“So now it’s Snortboo, and now Hiccupboo?! This is priceless!” Tubbo spoke, looking up at his happy smile, trying to shake his head in protest. “IM NOHOHAHAHAT! S-STOHOHAP!” He tried to protest at their relentless teasing, but they all knew Ranboo was loving it all. Tubbo decided he was bored of the nibbling, and reaching his head around to blow another raspberry over his back-side area.

Another shriek ripped through the room, and many snorts and hiccups followed. Tommy’s fingers were now just tracing shapes around his upper ribs, the gentle sensations almost completely unbearable.

It was all so much, and they both knew Ranboo was beginning to reach his limit. As much as he was having fun, Ranboo also realized that he was going to need a breather. “OHOHOKAY, I’M DOHOHONE! I’M DOHONE- *snort* PLEHEHEASE!” Ranboo managed to get out through his heavy laughing fit, Tommy climbing off of him and Tubbo sitting up, still basically sitting ontop of him.

“That was so cuuuute,” Tubbo teased, smiling at the limp boy catching his breath. “Yeah yeah, I guess it was pretty cute.” Tommy admitted, Ranboo smiling at the compliments. “Tuhubbo, you seem to forgehet that you’re the biggest buhully hehere…” Ranboo mumbled, sitting up and finally catching his breath.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything! T-Tommy don’t look at me- Ranboo, not you too- guys please- guHUHUYS!”

“‘Didn’t do anything’ my ass! You tickled us both, now it’s time to see how you like it!” Tommy laughed, prodding his fingers onto Tubbo’s belly, smiling as his response was instantaneous. “Uh ohoHOH-” Tubbo’s giggles bubbled up, as he tried to curl up onto himself to avoid the tickles.

“Uh oh is right, Tubbo! Good job!” Ranboo chortled sarcastically, squeezing his knee, causing Tubbo to accidentally knee him gently.

“Tubbo. You just kicked me.”

“OHOHOOPS- NOHOhohoho!” He threw his head back at Tommy’s fingers traveling around his torso with a purpose, trying to find any sort of sweet spot. It was all fine, until that little shit found the pudge on his tummy. Tubbo screeched, trying to pat his tum to get rid of the ticklish sensations.

“Ohoho, I think I just found a good spot!” Tommy announced as he swatted Tubbo’s hands away, only to replace him with his own as he lightly scratched his nails around the area of his tummy. “Oh really? I’ll try to find one also, then!” Ranboo grinned, squeezing down Tubbo’s thighs and right above his knee, causing more frantic kicking.

“I’M SOHOHORREEEYYY!” Tubbo squealed, trying to kick Ranboo. “No, you aren’t! You’re trying to kick me!” Ranboo shook his head with a smirk, using his free hand to gently squeeze around his other knee. “I CAHAN’T HEHehelp ihihit!” He pleaded, only to earn another head shake.

“Ranboo, is he bullying you again?” Tommy asked playfully, his hands never faltering on fluttering over his belly and near his hips. “Yes, I am now very sad.” Ranboo fakely pouted, Tommy gasping dramatically. “Tubbo, how dare you!” He growled, his light traces turning into claws vibrating into his sensitive belly.

“NOOOHOHOHO! I DIHIHIDN’T!” He whined, trying to bend his knees to get Ranboo away from them. Doing that only inspired the boy to scuttle his fingers under them to gently swirl and scribble on the undersides.

“Awww, his face is so red!” Tommy told Ranboo, smiling down at his friend. “AHAM NOT!” He protested, hiding his face with his hands. “What’s wrong, Tubs? Why’re you hiding from us? Hmmm?” Ranboo talked in his low teasy voice, chuckling as it made Tubbo’s laughter crank up a pitch.

Tubbo didn’t know how bad teasing was until he experienced it, the butterflies in his tummy making the tickly sensations even better worse. He thought he would be able to handle it, until Tommy found a specific sensitive patch of skin right beneath his button. “TOHOM- *snort* TOHOHOMMY!” Tubbo shrieked, pushing his hands.

“Stop pushing me, or else we’ll make this so much worse.” Tommy warned with a playful glint in his eyes, smirking as he covered his face once again. He decided to test the spot, just tracing a single nail around in different sized circles. “THAHAT TIHIHICKLES SO- *hic* BAHAHAD!” Tubbo exclaimed, trying to twist away.

Tommy sighed dramatically, grabbing Tubbo’s hips and squeezing them as he pushed them back down. “You aren’t going anywhere, mister.” He sneered, massaging his fingers into the bones. In the meantime, Ranboo wasn’t being any nicer.

Tubbo made the incredibly poor decision to wear shorts, as the gentle sensations on his legs were driving him up the walls. It was fine, until his fingers started to get lower near his calves, Tubbo’s laughter growing nervous. “Oh? Am I getting closer to a certain tickle spot, Tubbo?” Ranboo asked curiously, allowing his nails to barely trace down his calves.

“NOOHEEHEHEHE! IT’S SOHO TIHIHICKLY!” Tubbo cried, attempting to kick Ranboo yet again, until he just got done with Tubbo’s ‘violence’ and trapped his ankles in a headlock, continuing to trace the undersides of his calves.

“That’s good! I’m glad to hear!” He giggled, raking his nails down and fluttering them back up, the sensations making Tubbo fill with butterflies. Tommy snickered at Tubbo’s bright red face, pushing his shirt up a bit so he could truly give him a taste of his own medicine.

“Tohommy d-dohon’t you daha-AHAHAHA! NONONOHOHO!” Tubbo hadn’t realized how bad raspberries were until one was planted right over his belly button, involuntarily arching his back right into Tommy, then freeing his legs and curling closed.

Ranboo growled playfully, crawling up the bed (little a liddol gremlin :]) and pulling Tubbo in his lap, hooking his arms under his underarms to keep him put. “See Tubbo? Ranboo is so nice, maybe you should learn from him.” Tommy sniggered before nibbling around his tummy, tracing a few nails around his belly button.

“T-TOHOMMY- *snort* BAHAHAHAHA!” Tubbo threw his head back onto Ranboo’s shoulder, laughing his little heart out. “Awww, somebody’s snorty!” Ranboo spoke in Tubbo’s ears, giggling softly as the blush on Tubbo’s face seemed to grow to his ears from that.

“Y’know Tubbo, I’m just matching the same energy you gave Ranboo and I earlier, don’t be all whiny.” Tommy sang, snickering into his tummy as he continued his nibble attack. Ranboo got inspired, and decided to tilt his head down to nibble gently at the base of his neck.

“R-RAHAHAHANBOHOHO!”

“Tubbo!”

Ranboo playfully mocked back, cooing into his ear occasionally in the middle of his attack on his neck. Tubbo didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t squirm away (not that he wanted to,) but also didn’t want to admit he was loving it. He had a train of thoughts going, until Tommy hit a patch of skin where his sides and tummy met, causing him to buck violently.

“I CAHAN’T HAHANDLE- *hic* THIHIS- PLEHEHEASE!” Tubbo wheezed, crumbling on top of Ranboo and breathing heavily. “It looked like you had fun, Tubs!” Ranboo laughed softly, patting the boy's head as he just whined dramatically. “Don’t be a baby, we know you did!” The blonde cackled, leaning back on the bed.

“To be fair, I think we all had fun,”

“Agreheeing with Rahanboo on this one…”

“I guess I’ll agree with you, bitch boy.”

“Didn’t thihis whole thing start becahause of you two?” Tubbo sat up, smiling at his friends. “Yeah, and I’m proud of it.” The taller one spoke up, patting his chest triumphantly. “Oh shut up.” Tommy chortled, standing up to stretch.

“Anyways, do you two want to go to the park?” Tubbo asked, the others rolling their eyes. “No. ‘M tired now,” Ranboo mumbled, not wanting to go do some other energy-draining activity. “Yeah, can we play a wii game or something?” Tommy asked, glaring at the Wii console by Tubbo's TV. “But the park- ugghhh, fine, Mario Party it is...” Tubbo grumbled, getting up to grab the remotes and put the disc in.

“We should do this again sometime!”

“Tommy I swear-”

[peterrparrkerr]

Hit mad falls in love with target - read on ao3

*-*

Peter waved frantically at Tony when he walked into the lab, eyes glued to a computer screen.

"Tony, quick! Look!" He demanded, nearly vibrating in his chair.

Tony made his way over, hands clasped behind his back as he leaned over Peter's shoulder.

"Isn't it awesome?" The young man asked, waving his hands around.

"What am I looking at?" Tony asked.

"Its cancer," Peter said. He points to different colored lines in the graph, all jagged and fluctuating. "This is breast cancer, and this one is pancreatic, skin, lung."

Tony hums as Peter continues to list each colored line as a different form of cancer.

"I was able to isolate the individual cells from everything else, and- look, look!"

Peter snatches Tony by the shirt sleeve and tugs him from one monitor to the one on the other side of the lab. He taps his fingers on the screen, bouncing on his heels.

"These are the cells after being treated with non-radioactive therapy," Peter said, looking up at Tony. "The number of cancer cells is cut in half within a week!"

Peter then drags Tony across the lab again, babbling excitedly as he does so. "Do you know what this means? This means we can start human testing! And we can market the treatment for practically nothing!"

He shows Tony a live feed of the treatment in action from a TV monitor.

"Think about the possibilities," Peter grinned. "Anyone can get treated, no matter their financial standing. And the treatment isn't as harmful as chemo or radiation. It doesn't attack the body as a whole, it isolates the cancer cells and leaves the rest of the body alone.

"No more hair loss or side effects. And we could cut remission in half too," Peter said. "Just think, this time next year, we could start selling to hospitals all over the world."

Tony smiles down at the younger man. He had known within the first day of meeting Peter that he wouldn't be able to follow through. He's glad he hadn't.

"Have you told anybody else?" He asks casually.

"Ned knows," Peter said. "And Bruce, but they were here when it happened."

"Where are they now?"

Peter gives Tony a wry smile, still too excited about his treatment working.

"I sent them home a couple hours ago," he said. "We've all been awake for almost three days, so I'm sure they've gone to bed already."

"You should be in bed too, don't you think?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.

Peter waves him off, shaking his head as he goes to his work desk. "I'll sleep later," he said, pulling his lab coat off and draping it over the chair.

He's dressed in his usual outfit; comfortable pants and a button up.

"Plus, I knew you'd make your rounds around this time, and I wanted to tell you," Peter said with a grin, grabbing his personal items.

That was part of Tony's cover. A janitor for the building Peter worked for. Hes wearing a navy blue jump suit, though he's left the cart out in the hallway.

"I'll walk you to your car," Tony hums, leading the way out. When he'd first started this, he'd offered his company to get closer to Peter -to find his vulnerabilities.

Now though, he does it because he's protecting the young scientist.

He'd skipped out with 45 thousand dollars paid to kill the boy, but as the days had gone on, and Peter had grown comfortable with him, Tony realized he couldn't steal him from the world.

Peter was incredible. He worked tirelessly to find a cure for cancer. He's already created a new insulin for diabetes that he's made available to everyone for only $10 a month -something not many other medical professionals liked.

Peter was making enemies left and right, and Tony decided to make it his job to keep him breathing. If not for the rest of his life, then for as long as it takes for the young scientist to see an end to cancer.

The boy wasn't getting much in terms of money for his creations. In fact, from what Tony's come to learn, the boy doesn't own a car, and rents an apartment with his aunt. 

He sees enough to live paycheck to paycheck and this new treatment won't do much to better his life, but he's not concerned with money. He wants to make Healthcare more effective and affordable.

Tony's got morals. Enough of them to know when a hit is a bad investment. That didn't stop him from taking his payment anyway.

The two make it to the car park. Its dark, the overhead lights buzzing annoyingly. Its empty, save for a couple cars belonging to a few of the security guards, and the car Peter shares with his aunt.

It's an older model, grey paint chipping and metal beneath rusting near the wheels. Peter talks animatedly beside him, lands flailing in front of him.

Tony glances around them, scowling as he takes in the familiar cement structure.

"Wait," Tony says, just as Peter's pulling the keys from his pocket. They're a couple feet away from the car, and the hairs on Tony's arms and neck stand on end.

"What is it?" Peter asked curiously, reaching for the door handle.

It's just as Peter grips the handle that Tony sees the wire connected to the metal lock on the other side of the glass.

Tony is quick to react, grabbing Peter by the arms and wrenching him away from the door.

Peter yelps in surprise, but its cut out by the sound of a small explosion. Tony braces for the blast of air that knocks the two off their feet, and grits his teeth at the heat that follows.

Peter's pressed against the cement, Tony weighing down on him. His ears ring, but he quickly gets to his feet, unzipping his jumpsuit and grabbing the .9 mm from the waistband of his jeans.

The car is ablaze, crackle-popping and sizzling. Its just the cab thats on fire, but Tony knows its only a matter of seconds before the flames reach the engine and the fuel line.

Tony looks around him, trying to find the culprit -though he knows from experience that the man won't be here.

He grabs Peter by the armpits and pulls him to his feet. Blood smears against his forehead and jaw. His hands and arms are scraped up and Tony can tell his knees are busted too, but it doesn't look like anything damaging.

"We gotta go," Tony urges, already half dragging the younger back towards the building.

"You-you have a gun," Peter gapes, stumbling after Tony, arm in the older's hard grip. "Why do you have a gun?"

Tony reaches the door for the stairwell.

"I'm a hired gun," Tony said, glancing up, then down, gun following his eyeline before pushing Peter towards the stairs going up.

"I thought you were a janitor," Peter gasped, climbing the stairs and swaying. Tony places his free hand on Peter's lower back.

"Thats just a front," Tony confessed. "We got to get you out of here."

"Someone blew up my car," Peter said, panting as they continue up to the first floor. "Aunt May is gonna kill me."

"Not if Buck doesn't kill you first," Tony grunted, pulling Peter out of the stairwell and into the main lobby.

Tony's car is around the side of the building, but its open to attack. Tony can't keep Peter trapped inside the building though, so he risks it.

Their feet slap loudly on the asphalt as they run for the nondescript black SUV Tony had taken to driving.

He checks around the vehicle, under and inside before issuing Peter into the back seat.

Tires screech as Tony peels out of the parking lot.

"What- whats happening? Tony, what- why do-"

"Someones trying to kill you, Peter," Tony said, blowing past the guard tower at the exit of the parking lot.

"But why?" Peter asked dumbly, voice slurring slightly as more blood turns the side of his face crimson.

"I'll answer all your questions when we're safe," Tony promised, eyes frantically shifting from the area ahead of him to the rear view mirror.

Peter must really be feeling the effects of his head slamming into the concrete, because he doesn't protest.

"Lay down," Tony orders, merging into traffic and slowing down. "Lay low until I say."

Peter does -Tony thinks mostly because of his head injury. Tony relaxes a little, knowing the scientist won't be gunned down in the back seat.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere safe," Tony answered, keeping an eye behind him.

He doesn't see a tail, but he takes a round-about way to his safe house, just outside of Queens.

When they get to the small cabin, Tony checks the building before helping Peter inside.

"I think I have a concussion," Peter mumbles, swaying on his feet as Tony guides him to the kitchen chair.

"I don't doubt it," Tony agrees, setting his gun down on the table beside Peter's elbow before grabbing the first aid kit.

He pulls another chair over in front of the young scientist and opens the red box.

"Let me see your hands," Tony orders. Peter does, palms up. Tony begins to clean them and his arms.

"Tony," Peter says, breaking the silence. Tony doesn't say anything. He reaches up to clean the blood from the side of Peter's cheek.

"Is your name actually Tony?"

Tony makes eye contact before nodding.

"And you're a hired gun?" Peter asks, slightly breathless. "Like, like a hitman?"

"Yes," Tony answers, reaching the cut on Peter's hairline. Peter winces, but doesn't pull away.

"You kill people for a living?"

"Yes."

It takes Peter a couple seconds, but it seems to hit him. Hes bolting to his feet, the chair clattering behind him.

Tony leans back into the chair, watching as Peter begins to pace.

"What- Tony, you have to tell me whats going on," Peter demands, hand on his head. Tony knows from experience that pacing tends to help the scientist expell excess energy.

"I will," Tony nods. Peter continues his pacing. Back and forth beside the kitchen counter.

"Why- why are people trying to kill me?" He demanded. "Who blew up my car?"

Tony sets the paper towels down on the table, knowing Peter won't sit still for him to properly tend to him.

"The one who blew up your car is another hitman," Tony said. "Goes by the name Winter Soldier."

"You called him Buck," Peter said, pointing an accusatory finger at Tony, eyes narrowed.

"I did," Tony nodded. "Hitmen tend to run in the same circles, though we don't always like each other. Bucky was probably hired to finish the job."

"Finish the job," Peter repeated dumbly. "I'm the job?"

Tony nods, once more letting Peter process. He knew Peter would figure it out without Tony's help. He was smart.

"Finish the job means someone already tried to- to kill me," Peter said, panting as he continued to pace. The wound at his hairline is bleeding sluggishly, dripping down his temple and towards his jaw.

Peter wipes at it without thought, smearing blood against his cheek. He pauses to look down at his hand, fingers glistening in red.

He touches his forehead again, as if remembering he's still injured, then turns to Tony, accusation and fear in his Bambi brown eyes.

"You," he said softly, in disbelief. "You were hired to kill me, weren't you."

"I was," Tony nodded.

"But you haven't," Peter said. Tony can practically see the gears turning behind his eyes. "And, and now whoever hired you hired the Winter Soldier."

Tony only nods. Peter takes a shuddering inhale and has to grip the counter with a bloody hand to stabilize himself.

"I'm- I'm- who- who would want to-to kill me?!"

"The payment was anonymous," Tony said. "Thats how it works. But whoever it is is threatened by you."

Peter looks at Tony incredulously. "Me? Why me? I'm the least threatening person -like- ever!"

"You've cost Big Pharma millions with your insulin," Tony said. "You've patented it, so they can't take it and upcharge the way they've been doing. And if your treatment for cancer is a success, you'd be costing them even more."

Peter takes a moment to process that before he nods. "Right, yeah. I knew I was going to make a lot of people mad about that, but. But I never expected anyone to actually try to kill me."

"Money is a powerful motive," Tony said, a little too much experience leaking into his tone.

Peter hears it, because he stops his pacing, shoulders dropping. Exhaustion seems to pull him towards the floor like an anvil tied to his spine.

He sways a little, and Tony's about to offer him the chair again, but he moves to it willingly. When he sits, their knees are barely touching, and he blinks dazedly at his bloody hand.

Tony grabs a clean rag and leans forward to clean up the blood from Peter's head. The younger lets him, still processing and no doubt sluggish from the concussion.

"Why didn't you?" Peter asked after Tony had taped gauze to his hairline. It was patchy and poorly done, but it would help.

"Why didn't I what," Tony hummed, using an alcoholic wet wipe to clean the remaining blood from Peter's hands. The boy winces at the burn to his scraped palms.

"Kill me," he said, swallowing thickly. "You had plenty of opportunity."

Tony sighed, setting the wipes down before leaning forward and looking Peter in the eye.

"Because I believe in the work you're doing," he said honestly. "And I'm going to make sure you finish it."

Peter blinks once, twice, before breaking eye contact and sighing, body eating to melt into the chair as the air leaves his lungs.

"Come on," Tony said, standing up and slipping the gun into the waistband of his pants. Then offering his hand. "This place is safe. Theres a bed you can sleep in."

"I shouldn't sleep with a concussion," Peter said weakly, taking Tony's offered hand anyway.

"Its mild, I'm sure you'll be fine," Tony mused, heading deeper into the cabin to the bedroom.

The bedroom isn't anything special. A twin bed in the corner, a four drawer dresser and a blackout curtain.

Peter climbs onto the bed, not bothering with the covers or taking his shoes off. Tony thinks its best he sleep with them on anyway, in case Bucky finds them.

Tony moves to leave, grabbing the handle, and Peter bolts upright again, eyes wide.

"You're okay," Tony promises. "I'll be right outside."

Peter gives the barest shake of his head. "Stay here, please," he says softly.

Tony nods, shutting the door and turning off the light before making his way to the side of the bed. Theres an old step stool there, and he sits down at the head of the bed.

Peter lays back down, body too tense to ever fall asleep. Tony keeps his ears attuned to any noise that could alert him to Bucky, or anyone else, gun sitting perfectly stop on his knee, finger off the trigger, but ready at a moments notice.

"Tony?"

"Yes, Peter."

Peter shuffles around, and Tony turns his head just in time to feel pillow soft lips connect with the corner of his mouth.

He can't help but smirk as Peter settles back down. "Thanks for not killing me."

Tony chuckles at that, leaning his head against the wall. "I may be a hitman, but I've got morals," he says into the dark room. "Besides, nobody likes cancer."

Peter laughs tiredly at that before reaching his hand out and grabbing Tony's. Their fingers interlock, and Tony doesn't really know which one of them initiated it.

"You're going to be okay," Tony continued. "I wont let anyone hurt you. You're safe with me."

"I know."

[mxtantrights]

past lives | epilogue

a/n: time to look forward. and back. this doesn’t feature a big time jump. I’m gonna make an ending so cheesy... I think I’ve left this story pretty open so that you can insert whatever you want / envision for yourself. Once again thank you all who kept up and read or who’s gonna binge read once this comes out! Love ya <3

You opened your front door and there they all were. Most importantly Alfred. You had to show the man you could cook and fend for yourself if need be. Even though others couldn’t say the same.

“Great you’re all here. Come in, I’ve got the table set up and everything.” you said. 

They walk in one-by-one into your home. You were up last night tossing and turning because it really wasn’t much. They didn’t all live in the manor currently but they all had lived there previously. 

You eyed Damian specifically, to see his reaction to your place. He hadn’t been inside of it yet. Only ever on the fire escape and even that needed some work. You watched as took one swift look around and nodded at you. 

“It’s quaint.” he said.

“Did you just call me cheap or something?” you said.

“It was a compliment.”

“You hesitated.”

-

You wince as Alfred wrapped up your lower stomach. It was to help the swelling he said. You were sitting up on the bed in the guest bedroom. 

“May I ask what caused such bruising.” he asks.

You look over at Bruce who’s out of his nighttime suit and is watching from across the room. 

“A really big box.” 

You see Tim leaning against the door archway, hands behind his back. Bruce was Batman and Damian was Robin. That meant the Tim shaped Red Robin was Tim. He steps further into the room and reveals his hands.

He hands you two pills, “for the pain.”

You take them out of his hands and put them into your mouth. Then he hands you an opened water bottle. You take that and gulp down the pills, you have to tilt you head back a bit. 

When you tilt it back forward you feel the hammering of the punches again. It makes you wince. Alfred had already did the best he could with your face. No stitches thankfully. But just bandages and ointments.

“So how long have you known I was his child?” you ask Tim.

He shrugs his shoulders, “After the gala before the lunch interview”

“You mean the set up to get my DNA.”

He winces when you say that. 

“Tomatoe, tomato.”

Alfred lets you know that he’s done wrapping you and that you should lay down and try to get some rest. Which you don't argue with, you get the feeling that you don’t really argue with a man like him. He helps you pull your shirt down.

So you lean back slowly into the bed. You try to hold back the sounds of pain but one slips past your lips. This makes Tim and Bruce stand over your bed.

“You don’t have to worry. I’m pretty sure I’m not gonna die from a couple beatings from Ra’s.” You say plainly.

And it hurts Bruce. Damian had told him that you were in the league years before. But he could tell the harsh treatment you suffered there stayed with you. You were able to take so many hits from Ra’s it was something he never wanted to witness in his life.

“Any normal person would.” Tim says.

Bruce looks over at him.

“Well after I came out the pit things changed.” You answer.

They both look at you then. You figured Damian told at least Bruce that you were brought back to life by the pit. Maybe he was leaving that to you to discuss. 

“We’ll talk about this in the morning. Get some-” Bruce begins.

Then you hear the incoming footsteps to your new room. Sure enough Damian pops into view in the doorway. He wastes no time in running over to you, stopping short of hugging you once he sees the wrappings peeking through your newly acquired pajamas.

“Alfred says you’ll live.” he says.

You nod you head lightly, as to not start another headache before the ibuprofen kicks in. 

“You got there right in time.”

“I shouldn’t have let him get to you in the first place.” 

“Wasn’t your fault, besides I can handle myself.” 

“Obviously not look at your face.”

“I was in retirement. Cut me some slack.”

Bruce interrupts the impromptu match the both of you were having. Even though a part of him didn’t want to. He wanted to see the two of you interact more, since the both of you were family after all.

“Time to rest, say goodnight Damian.”

Damian takes another look over you. 

“Goodnight.”

He walks out the door with his brother and father. And they shut the lights on their way out. You're thankful you get to shut your eyes for a bit. The homecoming Ra’s gave you was anything but sweet.

By morning time, you wake up to find Damian sleeping in a chair at the end of your bed. He has a blanket pulled over his form, from either Alfred or Bruce you take it.

-

“Thanks for offering to do the dishes with me. I know Alfred is probably losing it in there.” You said.

Bruce looked at you with a laugh, “Yeah.”

When you handed the last dish for him to dry and cut off the sink you didn’t make a move to leave the kitchen. You had some words to say to him now that everything was out in the open.

“I wanna be clear, that day when you hinted at the recorder being on and me hearing your conversation with the others, I wasn’t rejecting you.” 

Bruce stopped drying the plate for a second. You saw him falter. He tried to pick up like it didn’t happen but you saw it. Instead of letting him continue you grabbed the plate from him.

He looked at you. 

“You weren’t?”

You shake your head, “No. I think you're a great guy, from what I know at least. And you had to be or my mother wouldn’t have liked you. Nor would she had wanted me to find you.”

“About your mother-”

“We can talk about her another time. I’m talking about you Bruce Wayne. I wanted to let you know that I do wanna figure out this relationship. I couldn’t say anything before because there was things I was unsure of.”

He cleared his throat.

“Like me?”

“No I wasn't unsure of you. I was unsure of how you would react about me and my past. I was your secret child who had been murdered and brought back to life by a mercenary who trained me to kill. On top of that, I had unknowingly cared for your youngest son before either of us knew anything.” you said.

He nodded his head at your words.

“But I think I knew I was sure of you when you wanted to fake me out about the added information in your interview. When you let me walk away.” you said.

Bruce tried to hide a grin but he couldn’t do it, “I thought you rejected me that day.”

“I was trying to protect you. Before I knew who you were during the night time, that is.”

“So now that you know, how do we do this?” he asked.

You hold up on finger, “First, you will not send me money. I make enough as it is and I do not need more.”

“Maybe just a savings account then.” 

“No, Bruce, no accounts. And no secret accounts either, I’ve heard from Alfred about your little set ups and such.”

“Sneaky.”

“I like him”

- 

When you finally get to the dinning room in the morning everyone, sans Alfred, is waiting for you. You hold onto your wrapping as you take the open seat next to Damian and across from Jason.

“I just wanna say I’m sorry for flirting with you before I knew you were family.” Jason says.

He doesn’t sound that sorry, which makes you look over at Damian. He’s got a proud smirk on his face. You face forward again.

“It’ll never happen again right Todd?” he asks.

Jason mumbles something indescribable. 

Then the room is filled with a moment of silence. It’s not really awkward per say, but you think it’ because they all have so many questions they don’t know where to start.

“So you guys LARP every night?” you ask.

Tim busts out laughing along with Dick. Jason crosses his arms over his chest with a chuckle. Damian, who you can tell is looking at you like you’ve grown another head, isn’t laughing. Neither is Bruce. Like father, like son you guess.

“I think you’re gonna fit right in.” Dick says.

“Speaking of which, are you gonna live here now?” Damian asks point blank.

Bruce beings to apologize for him but you shake your head and let him know it’s alright.

“I’m going to remain at my own residence. If you wanna come over you know the way.”

Jason has a look of shock on his face and Damian stops him. 

“Shut it Todd.”

-

A knock comes from your front door. It must be one of them, maybe they forgot something? You jog over to the door and open it.

Dick Grayson is in your doorway. 

“Did you leave something here?” you asked.

“No, I just wanted to say that I’m glad you're a part of the family. Honestly I’ve never seen Damian so calm before. And not his typical calm where he’s planning out every exit, this is different. It’s like he’s a normal kid.” he said.

You are speechless for a moment. 

“Thank you for letting me know, Dick.” you smiled.

“Gotta get going, a flight to catch.” 

You nodded you head, “Jason said you were in between red-heads. Do I wanna know what that means?”

He chuckled.

“I’ll let you know when I visit again, gotta go meet Wally.” he said.

Then he left with a simple wave. You could tell he wanted to hug you but didn’t want to cross any boundaries you might’ve had. In all honesty you would’ve hugged him back. You can see a bit of him in Damian and you’re thankful. 

You closed the door and turned the lock. 

-

As the rest of the boys cleared out, Bruce slid over your phone. The new one that you thought you had dropped on the sidewalk when you were taken. You reach for it and it’s totally fine.

You look up at him.

“Thanks, how did you get this?” 

“Nyssa.” 

Her name makes you still. She was never going to contact you after that night. Whatever friendship the two of your had was over. It was going to be hard to come to terms with but you’d have to make do.

But why did Nyssa have your phone?

“But this was on the ground last time I checked.” you asks.

“We saw on cctv, she picked it up while you were being put into the van. She had it on her the whole time, she’s the reason we were able to find you. Nyssa turned it on and it pinged a tower.” he answers.

Maybe it would be the last thing she ever did for you. Saving your life. You didn’t know what to think about her actions. It all felt like a past life or something.

You turn it on and see that you have unread messages and unanswered calls. Spanning days.

“How do I have all of this on my phone?” “I might’ve asked a favor from Killer Croc. It’s just the SIM card don't worry.”

“You mean Batman asked Killer Croc to find my phone?” 

“He told me it wasn’t that far from where you dropped it, outside of your building.”

“What I’m hearing is you and Killer Croc talk one-on-one.”

-

About fifteen minutes later, after Dick returned, there was a knock you were expecting. It came from your fire escape. You hurried your way into your room and drew up the blinds. There he was.

You slid open the window.

“Hurry up and get in, it’s fuckin cold out there and I’ve got nothing on.” you said.

He climbed through the window and stood toe to toe with you. 

“I can see that. Nice tank top.” he joked.

You raised your eyebrows at him, “You know I can just kick you out of my home you horny bastard.” 

“Oh but then we couldn’t all the fun stuff.”

“That would indeed be the point Jason.”

He kissed the top of your head. Then he began to peel off his jacket. The same one that he wore to the gala when you first met. He looked just as good right now as he did that night. The cigarette smell might’ve added to that too. He placed it over the chair that sat in the corner of your room near the window.

It was a quick, like lighting really, and you saw him move his eyes away but he looked at your scar below your collarbone. It stuck out like a sore thumb when you two weren’t rolling around in the dark.

But before you can say something to him, he speaks.

“I never told you this, but I think we must’ve ran into each other before all of this.” he says.

You tilt your head, “where would I run into you, Jason Todd?”

“I’m not sure, maybe in a past life or something.” he shrugs.

You watch as he walks past you, heading to the kitchen no doubt. Out of the both of you your fridge is the better choice for actual food and not takeout. You follow behind him, only up until your room’s doorway which you lean your body against. And you think to yourself, you have a couple of past lives now.

[princeescaluswords]

Scott’s primary focus should be to make sure that Stiles is happy and his ego well-tended, reassuring him that no matter what, the most important thing in Scott’s life is the best friend whose lack of respect for boundaries and decent behavior caused all this / Caused what exactly? No one put a gun to Scott's head and forced him to follow Stiles into the woods that night. Scott did it on his own volition. Just like Scott choosing to hide behind a bush instead of going home with Stiles

You understand that 'cause and effect' is different than 'laying blame', right? When you are the cause of something, you take an action that creates a reaction, which may trigger another reaction, which may trigger another reaction, and so on. On the other hand, 'laying blame' is when the outcome of an entire sequence of events is negative, and the person who caused it shouldn't have but did so anyway out of maliciousness or negligence.

Honestly, I want to thank you for bringing up this enormous fandom double standard, because it points at the fundamental racism endemic to this fandom (and, sadly, to many others).

The entire chain of events was started by Stiles listening in to his father's phone call, running over to Scott's house and cajoling Scott into going. Scott would not have been in those woods if Stiles hadn't taken an action; Stiles caused Scott to be Bit.

That's not the same as blame, but given the amount of trauma that Scott suffered, he certainly could have blamed Stiles for it. He could have given Stiles the silent treatment (like Stiles did to Scott later in the same season) or he could have yelled at him and left him angry mail messages (like Stiles did to Scott when he found images of the alpha by snooping into a girl's phone) or even tied him up with duct tape and tortured him when Stiles blamed Scott for his father getting hit by a car.

A teenage boy could have easily done any of those things, as parts of the fandom like to point out when they defend Stiles's behavior. And they're right. Teenage boys aren't mature and tend to be over-emotional. But Scott didn't blame Stiles, not once in 100 episodes, for Stiles's role in Scott being bit, even though he had every opportunity to do so. But somehow, he's not a good friend or the heroic protagonist.

Yet, that's not enough for people to like him, for parts of the fandom to recognize him as a good person. Instead, they fixate on "he did it to himself!" And then, of course, they talk about Second Chance at First Line (1x02), where Scott tried to kill Stiles. What a monster!

You see, to them, what happened in the locker room at the beginning of Second Chance at First Line is all Scott's fault. He is to blame for scaring Stiles! If only he had ... done something else but what Stiles told him to do.

Stiles: Okay, just focus on lacrosse. Okay, here, Scott. Take this. Take this, and focus on lacrosse for now, okay? That's all you gotta do, yeah?

And when he loses control out on the pitch because Jackson bullied him, Scott runs to the locker room and Stiles follows him. No one, as my anon friend put it "put a gun to Stiles's head and made him go in there!" He knew there was a brand-new werewolf in that locker room! He did it of his own volition! And yet fandom brings up Scott's murder attempt on Stiles as a reason that Scott is a bad friend and terrible werewolf.

And before anyone gets their undies in a bundle, I'm not blaming Stiles for the locker-room scene in Second Chance at First Line. I understand that this was an event caused by Scott being a werewolf and being upset by the revelation that Allison's dad is a hunter and by Jackson's bullying. But cause is not blame, which is my original point. If Scott's decisions in Wolf Moon make what happen to him an unfortunate accident (however that works) than Stiles's decision in Second Chance at First Line should do the same. But, for this fandom, they don't.

On the other hand, It's parts of the fandom that blame Scott for 'trying to kill' Stiles, using it to invalidate Scott as protagonist and friend and used as the basis of 'Scott is a bad friend.' Scott should have somehow known that this was going to happen and not done it. Yet, if other parts of the fandom even hint that Stiles shares in the responsibility of Scott getting bit, they'll react as above.

And the funniest part is? It's not just Stiles: Derek, Peter, Isaac, and Liam are all examples of white male characters who get this treatment, where they are excused from responsibility or blame in a way that Scott is not. Peter didn't know what he was doing when he murdered Laura and five other people turned and mentally violated Scott and turned and mentally violated Lydia (yet the fact that Scott didn't know what he was doing when he hurt Jackson and stalked Stiles is unimportant to the Bad Friend Scott army). Poor Derek had never been taught how to alpha, which is why he turned and abandoned Jackson and dragged three children into a war (but Scott should have trusted him even in the face of these terrible decisions, and anyway, Derek's utter fucking incompetence was Deaton's fault for the veterinarian not risking his life to help the man who beat and kidnapped him). And so on.

This reluctance to blame or responsibility on white male characters by fandom transcends parody when it comes to the locker-room violation in Co-Captain (1x10). They can't blame Derek helping Peter corner and mentally invade a naked 16-year-old boy because Derek can't be blamed or held responsible for anything, and they can't blame Peter for coercing Derek to help corner and mentally invade a naked 16-year-old boy because Peter can't be blamed or held responsible for anything. So, in true white-fandom fashion, they believe that both the cause and the blame for Derek and Peter turning out the locker room lights, trapping Scott in the shower, threatening his friends and loved ones, and then having memories of being burned alive forced into his head is ... an insensitive comment that Scott made to Derek and to the pretending-to-be-comatose Peter six episodes earlier.

See how that goes?

BUT IT'S NOT RACISM.

[thisissirius]

so apparently my brain needed to write this before it could write anything else. it’s not the kind of fic i want to attach to a prompt so i’m posting it as is. 

some things to note; this is extremely personal to my situation right now. i write to deal with my feelings and that’s what this is. i’m okay, i promise. or at least i’m getting close to okay. but i’m working on it! 

i will not be offended if you don’t want to read :)

it’s an open ending because i don’t know the ending to my own story but in my head, he beats it <3

(i researched this because obvs i am female and eddie is not)

be my help eddie/buck, cancer

“I think you might have an infection.” Buck’s nose wrinkles as he frowns and Eddie traces the lines of it. He doesn’t want to look at the wound, at what it represents. Buck’s fingers are light as he puts on the new bandage. “Though the inflammation is here,” he continues, thumb grazing the skin around Eddie’s nipple. “It feels warm. Does it hurt?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Not really. There’s been blood a couple of times but I assumed it was from the wound.”

With another nod, Buck finishes dressing the wound. There’s a tightness to his mouth that spells a research binge—and possibly a call to the doctor—but Eddie’s content to let him handle it. “All done.”

“Thanks,” Eddie says, curling his fingers around Buck’s wrist. He runs a thumb over Buck’s pulse point. “For everything.”

Buck’s cheeks tinge pink, but he looks pleased. “You’re welcome. Come on, Chris’ll be home soon and there’s still dinner to do.”

Eddie can’t forget about the inflammation; 

Buck’s frown gets progressively more pronounced with every passing day, and Eddie’s starting to feel it. His skin is warm, there’s been spotty blood on his shirts, and it looks puffy and inflamed. It’s not until Eddie takes off his shirt one night to get ready for bed and sees just how swollen it is, that he ends up calling for Buck. 

It’s been a few days since Buck’s stayed over; he’s taking extra shifts because Eddie’s struggling with finances—and if Eddie thinks about that too much, he’ll feel sick with guilt—and he looks tired when he stands in the doorway. When his eyes rise to Eddie’s nipple, his face shifts into shock and a touch of horror. “Fuck.”

“It’s only been like this yesterday and today,” Eddie says, because he doesn’t want Buck to think he missed it. “I don’t think it’s an infection.”

Buck hums and steps forward. “It could be,” but he doesn’t sound certain. “We should take you to the emergency room.”

Eddie doesn’t really want to. “Buck—”

“Eddie,” Buck says. There’s something in his voice, his face, that makes Eddie take notice. “Trust me, I think we need to get a doctor’s opinion.”

“Chris,” Eddie says, searching for something to keep them here, safe in his home. 

Buck doesn’t look happy when he says, “We’ll take him with us.” Eddie opens his mouth to answer, to say something else, but he stops short at the tremble in Buck’s tone. “Please, Eddie. I think this is something we need to get checked out.”

Eddie sits. And sits. And sits.

Chris is asleep on Buck’s lap. He’s tucked under Buck’s chin, breath even, and Eddie can’t help but rest a hand on his leg. Buck’s talking in a low voice, information Eddie’s not really taking in, but it’s soothing. The emergency room is always horrible, no less when it’s personal instead of work related, and he leans more heavily into Buck. 

“Alright?” Buck asks, trailing off. “I’m sure it won’t be much longer.”

Three has given way to five, and Eddie’s got no doubt they’ll still be sitting here at seven in the morning. He’s glad neither of them are working, but Buck’s gotta be dead tired. “You should go home.”

Buck’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline and Eddie only realises what that implies when the words are out. “Eddie—”

“No,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “I meant you don’t have to be here, now, when you could be sleeping.”

Expression softening, Buck’s lips quirk into a tired smile. “I wouldn’t be able to settle. I’d be worried about you.”

Eddie’s chest goes tight with emotion and he smiles back. Something feels different between them since the shooting, but he can’t pinpoint what it is. Maybe it’s the loss of Ana from his life; Eddie knows Buck wasn’t happy for whatever reason. Breaking up with her had been easy after that because Buck’s happiness means everything. 

“Edmundo Diaz?”

“Come on,” Buck says gently, readjusting Chris, who makes a soft noise. “Let’s get you checked out.”

“Breast cancer,” Eddie repeats. “I thought—”

Silence. 

“I thought it was women,” he admits. “I didn’t think it could happen to men.”

To me is what he means. 

Buck’s hand is the only thing tethering him to the moment, fingers tight in Eddie’s. He looks calm, calmer than Eddie thinks he should. “What stage?”

Eddie swallows. “You knew?”

“Suspected,” Buck says, looking guilty. Eddie squeezes his hand. He’s not really sure what his emotions are doing, but he needs to make sure Buck’s okay. One of them needs to be. “I went online and I know I shouldn’t look,” he says, more to the doctor than to Eddie, “but it seemed too far from the wound to be related.”

“Perhaps not unrelated,” the doctor says. His voice is calm, almost soothing, and Eddie hates it, though he can’t pinpoint why. Maybe he’s trying not to wake Chris, but Eddie suspects it’s more that he doesn’t want to spook Eddie. Fuck. “It’s true that we don’t always know what causes cancer—”

“I don’t care,” Eddie says. His voice sounds far away. “Can it—like Buck said, what stage?”

The doctor looks at him and is silent for long enough that Eddie can feel whatever stability he’s got left spiralling away. “If it is cancer, which we’re not completely sure of, it will be stage three or four; advanced because of the symptoms, but still treatable.”

Eddie drops Buck’s hand to press the palms of his hands to his eyes. There’s a burn in his eyes, something heavy settling in his stomach. He can hear Buck talking, feel the hand on the back of his neck, but it’s almost as if he’s not in the room. “I want to go home.”

“I know,” Buck says softly, stroking a hand down Eddie’s back. To the doctor he says, “thanks. You’ll let us know about the appointments?”

The moments slip away from him; he doesn’t remember leaving the office, or getting into the car. Doesn’t know how he and Chris both end up strapped in and moving; he can feel the gear shifts, the radio playing softly. Chris is snorting in the back seat, and Buck’s breathing seems oddly loud in the truck; maybe it’s Eddie—he doesn’t feel as if he’s there. 

“What am I gonna do,” he says, breathless. 

Buck reaches over, hand on Eddie’s thigh. “You can fight this.”

Eddie’s eyes burn again and he turns away, glances in the rearview mirror. “What am I supposed to tell Chris?”

A pause. Buck’s fingers squeeze. “We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

“Buck,” Eddie says, and even to his own voice he sounds wrecked. “I can’t—”

Buck pulls over, shifts into park and leans over, hand to Eddie’s face. “Listen to me,” he says, foreheads touching. Eddie closes his eyes and hangs on. “I’ll be here every second, okay? I promise, Eddie, whatever happens, we’ll get through it.”

The fatalistic part of Eddie thinks it can’t be that easy but the rest of him wants to lean on Buck, to take the comfort he’s offering. “If it’s cancer—”

“Then you’ll look over treatment, figure out what you want, and we’ll tackle it like we do everything else.” Buck’s thumb runs over Eddie’s cheek. “I’ve got your back, Eddie.”

Eddie lets out a shaky breath, leans into Buck. He can still hear Chris in the back seat. He knows there’s so much left unknown, but he’s got Buck, right here, and together they’ll protect Chris. He knows even if he does—if they can’t—if anything happens, Buck’s got Chris. 

“Stop it,” Buck says, running his thumbs under Eddie’s eyes. He’s wiping away tears and Eddie blinks, surprised; he’s not sure when they started. “You can fight this.”

“Okay,” Eddie whispers, because he desperately wants to believe he can. His mouth forms the words before his brain can catch up and stop them, “I’m scared.”

Something in Buck’s expression breaks, but he presses forward, touching their foreheads together. “I know, Eds. It’s okay to be, but I promise, no matter what, I’m gonna be here.”

Eddie swallows around the lump in his throat, leans into Buck’s touch on his cheek, the fingers curling around the back of his neck. “Promise?”

“Yeah,” Buck says without hesitation, his voice low and husky. “I promise.”

Kissing the corner of Buck’s mouth is easy. Turning his face into Buck’s neck is even easier. Listening to the thump of Buck’s heartbeat, the words of comfort and promise Buck whispers in his ear makes even the darkest thoughts in his head quieten down. 

“I’ve got you,” Buck promises. 

“I know,” Eddie says, and he means it.

[the-lady-writes-what]

30. Katsuki Bakugou

          Theme: Werewolf

          Kinks: Hunter/prey play, rough outdoor sex, biting, oral (receiving), one spank, doggie style, cream pie, commando

All canonically underage characters are aged up. Katsuki Bakugo is 18+.

Masterlist

The wind howled through the trees. Or was it the wolf chasing you? You smiled either way at the chase. The wind in your face, the damp earth beneath your pounding feet, the blood rush surging through you. A full moon cast a silver glow on everything before your eyes. You smelled the air full of fir, pine, and unsoiled earth. It was the perfect night for a hunt, and you were the willing prey.

When Katsuki suggested it, he turned red in the face and on the tips of his ears, though he was eager to deny it. The full moon was a dangerous night for him, not knowing if he could control his urges. A werewolf-human couple could be deadly, even. You'd gotten used to the scratches, bites, and the strength he used to pin you down to the bed. Tonight was different. It was going to be different and unique in ways that you only began to imagine. Tonight wasn't just a full moon. It was a Blue Moon. It didn't happen very often, and nobody could remember when it last occurred auspiciously in October on Halloween night. While everyone else you knew was partying or getting drunk, you were being hunted down by your boyfriend.

You didn't want Katsuki to lose. The thrill of the chase was enough for you. That didn't stop you from making it harder for him to catch you. You wore a new perfume and washed your hair and body in heavily-fragranced shampoo and body wash. With the smell of the damp earth and evergreens swirling around you, you might have made it too tricky for Katsuki to catch a whiff of you.

However, Katsuki was a lot smarter than that. He wasn't going to pass up a Blue Moon and be tricked by such girly smells. If anything, covering yourself in perfume and fragrances most likely helped him sniff you out. That was why he was hot on your tail. Katsuki was so close you could hear him panting for breath.

Twigs snapped underfoot, leaving a trail for Katsuki to follow. You ducked behind a tree and used it swing your body in another direction. You laughed into the wind as you ran against it. Katsuki's heavy feet pounded the earth, not very far behind you.

"Just wait 'til I get my hands on you, Y/N! You're not gonna walk for a week afterward!"

"You have to catch me first!" You shouted back.

You jumped over a fallen tree and over thorny bushes. Outstretched branches snagged your clothes, leaving tears and rips that left your skin exposed to the night air. Katsuki sprinted closer. Once he got a little closer, you pushed your legs and ran ahead of him. You chuckled at his frustrated snarl. He almost had you in his grasp, but you weren't about to let the game end so soon. Not when you were both having so much fun. 

Shouts and cries echoed on the wind. Friends and members of Katsuki's pack having their own fun. You bit your lip as you slid around yet another tree. Katsuki was once more catching up to you. Your heart and lungs couldn't take much more of it. Despite your desire to keep it up, your body was getting close to its breaking point. You whirled around a tree to stop and catch your breath. Katsuki seemed to have lost you in the bramble because you couldn't hear his footsteps chasing after you anymore. 

Sweat beaded down your face. The night wasn't cold, but you almost wished you had a sweater. Your skin felt clammy to the touch, and if you didn't get somewhere warm soon, you were in for an uncomfortable night. You clenched your toes to ease some of the aches you felt. Once your heart slowed to a steady rate, you leaned off of the tree and sprang back into the woods.

You didn't get very far. Katsuki had been waiting behind another tree. His patience rewards him with you practically springing into his arms. He grabbed your forearms with a firm but not a brutish grasp.

"Caught you," Katsuki snickered, offering you a devilish smirk. "What are you going to do now?"

"Beg for mercy?" You jokingly replied.

Your response was enough to make your boyfriend tilt his head back and laugh. Katsuki gently pushed you against a nearby tree. Slivers of moonlight heightened the ash-blonde tufts of hair on his newly sprouted wolf ears. His eyes were a darker shade of crimson, and they stared right into you. Claws carefully caressed your skin and tugged at your ruined clothes. You both were splattered with dirt and a little bit of blood.

"Kiss me," said Katsuki. Only it wasn't a request. It was an order.

You obliged and wrapped your hands behind his neck. You pressed your cool, moist lips against his warm ones. Tongues fought for dominance, a battle Katsuki always won. He shoved you against the tree while running his hands up and down and over your body. One hand found purchase on your hips with the other preoccupied knotting his hand in your hair. Katsuki gave your hair a soft tug and exposed your neck to him. He wasted no time leaning down and gracing your neck with feather-soft kisses. Fangs nibbled on your sensitive skin. You arched your back to press your body close to his.

"Are you hungry for me, Y/N?" Katsuki thumbed the button of your jeans.

"Always," you answered with a needy whisper.

"What do you think I should do about it, hm?" Katsuki bit into your shoulder, causing you to moan.

He suckled your skin and nibbled on your flesh. Katsuki quickly switched sides and gave the other side of your neck the same treatment. Claws tore at your clothes. Katsuki pulled at your torn and muddied t-shirt like it was tissue paper. When the night air hit your chest, the nipples on your breasts became taut before Katsuki even touched them. Goosebumps crossed your skin like a fever.

"No bra?" Katsuki flicked open the button to your pants and delved his hand down your crotch. His sharp brow rose. "No panties either?"

"I was expecting you to catch me." You smirked.

"Were you now?" Katsuki pulled the zipper down and coaxed the hem of your jeans down your hips.

"I expected nothing less from the great Katsuki Bakugo," you said.

"Tch," Katsuki feigned annoyance. "As if you had a chance. Smellin' like a fucking garden. It's like you wanted to get caught." He was careful with his claws as he rubbed your clit. You moaned at the touch of his warm hand against your bundle of nerves.

"Maybe…AH! That was…the idea. Oh, my god. Right there!"

"Slick for me already? We haven't even started yet!"

Katsuki was right; you were absolutely soaked. The thrill of the chase and the anticipation Katsuki had been building up all week (not to mention the abstinence forced upon you to make the Blue Moon extra special) left you an excitable mess. You knew before Katsuki even touched you that you soaked through your jeans. Katsuki had to be careful not to cut you as he massaged your clit with just the pads of his fingers.

"I need to know what my meal tastes like tonight," Katsuki growled. Katsuki hefted you over his shoulder like a potato sack. He shimmied your pants down to your ankles and shucked them off. He threw them unto the ground before laying down on a pile of fallen leaves next to them. Grabbing your hands, Katsuki set them behind your knees and pushed your legs apart. Even in the shadows, you saw his tail wag.

"Don't fucking let go until I make you come, got it?" Katsuki ordered. Hazy with lust, you nodded.

"Good."

Katsuki bent his head towards your weeping cunt. His rough tongue lapped at your wet folds before diving in between them. You dug your nails into your legs as you clung unto them for dear life. Katsuki slurped with lewd eagerness. He drove his tongue in and out, stimulating your walls into quivering around him.

"Does it feel good, baby? Do you like being eaten alive?" "Y-Yeah," you moaned.

"Then, there's more where that came from!" Katsuki sat up long enough to rip his shirt off. He returned to the spot between your thighs.

His lips and mouth worked your pussy into a fit and slurped at the wet mess your body was making. Your juices spilled all over the ground underneath you. Your legs trembled with the effort of his tongue against your clit.

"K-Katsuki!"

"Feel like you're gonna come?" Katsuki murmured against your cunt. He devoured it like a starving man.

"I'm so close!

"Then I better finish you off. Gotta get you prepared for my fat cock, don't I?"

Katsuki wasted no more time with words. He drove his tongue like a surrogate cock between your folds. You struggled to keep your legs up and open for him, but it was so hard to concentrate while he lapped at your juices. He dragged his thumb across your clit while digging his tongue into your pussy. With a few flicks, you spiraled quickly. When Katsuki finally raised his head, his mouth was covered in your essence, dripping in it. You panted for breath as you came down from your high, interrupted only by Katsuki pulling down his fly and pushed his jeans down to his hips. You weren't the only one who chose to go commando. His proud member was fisted in his hand. Pre-cum oozed out of the tiny slit on the blunt head. Katsuki leered at the hazy eyes you were making at his cock.

"It's going all the way in, Y/N. You're going to fucking enjoy this," said Katsuki.

He swatted your hands away from your legs and rolled you unto your stomach. You grasped at fallen leaves as you felt your hips being shifted off the ground. Katsuki lined up his cock then slowly impaled you on it. Your cunt was wet and warm and more than ready for him. You dug your nails into the dampened earth to compensate for the sheer pleasure shooting up your spine. Katsuki was fully seated and buried inside you.

"That's my girl. You're so tight for me." Katsuki gave your ass a playful smack. "You're gonna howl for me, won't you?"

"Fuck, yes." You groaned into the first thrust of his hips.

Indeed, Katsuki had you howling. There was no place for you to muffle the sounds you were making since you'd rather not have dead leaves in your mouth. Skin slammed against skin as Katsuki rammed himself deep inside your body. He was stretching you open while pounding you into the dirt. Over, over, and over again, he was buried in your cunt and sealed it up. That didn't stop the fluid gushing out of you; the more he attacked your cock. While fucking you, Katsuki had very little to say, at least in human speech. In this form, half-beast, and half-man, more of the animal side of him came out to play. Claws dug into the flesh of your hips while his teeth nibbled on your shoulders. You heard the brushing of his tail as it swung behind him. He was incredibly strong.

Katsuki grunted like an animal while beating your insides. He plunged his cock as far as it would go. You met him thrust for thrust and howl for howl. The pair of you were little better than dogs in heat. You panted and stuck your tongue out like one. Katsuki snapped his hips harder into you and pulled you close.

"Fuck, fuck," Katsuki canted. "I'm coming."

His pace became erratic. The thick cock inside you found your G-spot, which sent you over the edge again. You cried out his name as you gushed around him. Your body twitched from the impact of coming so hard. Katsuki fell right behind you, burying himself deep so that the ribbons of come shooting inside your walls had nowhere else to go. You remained stuck like this for what seemed like forever. He pulled out eventually against your wishes. You loved the feeling of him buried there and felt empty with him gone. Katsuki helped you back into your jeans and shoved his t-shirt over your head.

"Like hell any extra is gonna get a good look at your tits. These bad girls are for my eyes only, got it?" Katsuki came up from behind, wrapped his arms around you, and gave you a hug, which was really an excuse to grope your chest.

"Whatever you say, Katsuki," you chuckled.