#I’m more focused and concerned on supporting my friend than a celebrity I don’t even know

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

.

[jodilin65]

SUNDAY, AUGUST 31, 2014 Andy really annoys the shit out of me with all his pics on Ask that include jokes and comments about race. I’ve told him a million times I’m sick to death of hearing about race, but it’s like he doesn’t give a shit. I know he has serious memory issues, but come on, how many times do I need to tell the guy before it sinks in? Maybe my lack of commenting about it and checking into Ask less often will drive it home, if my suspicions are correct about him trying to annoy me. If he is trying to annoy me, though, then that kind of tells me something about his character that isn’t very good. True friends shouldn’t deliberately annoy each other like this, should they?

Still worrying about my health/medication issues and still trying to tell myself that I’m not going to drop dead and that sooner or later it will be resolved. I just don’t know how or when. Either way, it’s not easy to just tell myself this just like I couldn’t just “tell” myself the sky is really neon yellow with hot pink polka dots. No one would ever have a negative emotion or concern in the world if it were that simple. Instead, I’m trying to keep as busy as I can to distract myself from focusing on it too much.

I’m still 99% sure one of these drugs was responsible for the anxiety attacks, and as Tom and I agree, we need to get the doctors to consider how I feel and not a bunch of numbers on a blood test. Remember, when I first went to the doctor it wasn’t because I felt bad, it was because my body wouldn’t respond to diet and exercise and I wanted to know why. I also hadn’t had a check-up in a million years.

Meanwhile, I still have my various aches and pains – a funny feeling on my tongue, irritation in my throat, neck pain, mosquito bites, head rushes – and I still wonder if I’m under some kind of new curse. I broke the money curse, though, and I’ll break this one too, if I have to. Really, I just want a day without aches, pains and worries! Just one day.

Since everything is thrown off when you’re not treating hypothyroidism, my period is late, not surprisingly, but that’s nothing. Why do women have to get periods beyond their childbearing years anyway? Even if I’d been as fertile as a rabbit, no one can get knocked up at 48, almost 49, years of age.

Last night at 9:30 I heard a guy shouting somewhere in back. I couldn’t tell if he was pissed, drunk or scared, like something was wrong with someone or something like that and he was freaking out.

The lady across the street took off a couple of days ago for the holiday, and next door’s been quiet at least for today. They haven’t had company and they haven’t come and gone like they usually do, but I’m sure the garage activities, along with the daily outings will resume come Tuesday. I should be sleeping through most of it. I slept forever last night so I’ve got to start setting alarms to help hold my schedule till my appointment.

I woke up a few times here and there, as usual, and had a million dreams. I know I had a few that my dentist was in, but the only one I remember is her sending a letter saying she was dropping all patients who needed 3 or more shots of Novocain during procedures, LOL.

Why, though, do I dream of this particular doctor more than any other? Doctors C and D have only starred in one dream so far that I can recall.

When I think of people like Angelina Jolie, I don’t envy them for the reasons most people do, though I also admit I’m not a celebrity worshipper to begin with and haven’t been for nearly two decades now. I don’t envy Angie for her fame and beauty; I envy her for the money and support she has. I’d HATE to be famous and not be able to go to the freaking store in peace. I don’t care who knows what about me for the most part, or what people think of me, but I can’t imagine having to take bodyguards everywhere I went so people wouldn’t hound me. I also don’t care about my appearance as much as how I feel. But what I WOULD love to have when Tom and I grow old and are facing the end is more money and support than we could ever need like she has. I can’t imagine her ever not having enough money for whatever medical expenses arise, and between all those kids she has and other people she knows, I can’t imagine her not having more than sufficient support when she’s old, ill or dying.

I realize, however, that even if all my friends were suddenly in my town – everyone I know from the US to other countries – it wouldn’t be fair of me to count on them in the end. Those that were still alive, anyway. They’d have their own lives to worry about after all. But will we at least have money to hire the help we may need? That remains to be seen. Just because we’re doing ok now doesn’t mean we always will be.

On a more fun note, we made a huge Amazon order of both fun stuff and necessities. Bedding for the rats, Co-Q10 supplements for Tom, blue cushions for our stools, and a 200-dollar trimming package for all these damn shrubs and bushes. It would cost a million times more to have everything removed and gravel put in its place. Even just getting rid of our one tree would cost a lot more. So that’s why Tom got a kit with a pole saw so he doesn’t have to climb dangerously high to trim branches. There are 8 tools in all, and we have 5 months to pay for everything.

I got patchouli wax melts, a small brass erotic figurine, and a bigger erotic one that’s painted.

We started painting over the kitchen wallboard design with a sunny shade of yellow and were disappointed to find it was much tougher to do than we thought. We knew it wouldn’t be a quick and simple job just because of all the damn edging involved going around counter baseboards, cabinets and the window, but the surface is basically the same material as the unpainted paneling. We’re just not getting good coverage with a brush. We need to pick up some mini rollers. Tom’s going to grab some stuff tomorrow.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 30, 2014 Took my statin for the first time in days at 5:30 pm. An hour later I figured I’d be just fine. Sure enough, though, at 8:30, I was just finishing up a movie I was watching when it got me. My head rushed with dizziness and then a few seconds later my heart ramped up into the 120s.

I ran and woke Tom up who’d just fallen asleep and said, “Holy shit, she may’ve been right!”

“Who may’ve been right?” he asked.

“One of my longtime followers. The older lady I told you about.”

Fortunately for me, the attack didn’t last long and I didn’t have to take a chill pill. Makes me wonder, though, just how long it would’ve gone on had Tom not been around to help calm me down.

So I messaged Tammy to see if she’s heard of any connection between anxiety, racing hearts and all that shit, and she not only didn’t know I was on statin drugs, but she confirmed that yes there is, even though the biggest complaint with that drug are severe muscle aches. She also said that if anything the statins are more likely to be causing my side effects than the levothyroxine.

To me, the statins both do and don’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense that it would take 5 months to get me, although some side effects are a long time in coming from what research Tom did. He didn't find anything that linked anxiety to statins, but did find that it can deplete your body's Co-Q10 over time (Tom takes Co-Q10 supplements so he's not as tired). It can also mess with your memory.

All I know is that all this medical drama is really starting to get to me. I'm tired of the stress, the worrying and the depression. I just want to enjoy my life! All I know is that I’m not taking shit till I see the doctor on Wednesday, then I'll decide from there what to do based on what she says. Worst case scenario I give up on this shit altogether. Sometimes the best way to solve a problem really is to throw in the towel and just not deal with it. I’d rather not because that’s still asking for trouble. The question is which one will give me the most trouble, especially in the near future. If I’m going to have a sudden heart attack and die before I know what hit me in 10 years, I’d rather that than suffer now.

Tom still thinks it's a combination of things causing it and not just one single thing. We know I'm prone to tachycardia cuz other things have raced my heart out before. I was once on theophylline for the asthma back when I smoked and that made my heart race along with the various inhalers I was on. So it doesn't take much to get my heart going.

So Mommy Dearest has the early stages of esophageal cancer. She emailed Aly to say that she was pissed that Molly broadcasted the news to the whole world and is shutting her Facebook account down and kicking her offline yet again. What’s creepy is that she emailed her at an address she KNOWS Molly isn’t aware of. I always did think she was a stalker and wondered how many of my my-diary accounts and other accounts she was able to hunt down and find on her own. Molly’s got to have gotten her crazy, stalkerish ways from somewhere.

Cancer as a whole may be a shitty thing, but it’s hard to really feel much sympathy for such a mean old bully who was almost as bad as her own daughter. It’s in its early stages, though. She’ll live.

Went to Goodwill and Michael's earlier and that helped take my mind off of things for a while. We got several fun things and it all cost less than $25. I got a mug with pink flowers, silver and clear acrylic gems for the base of one of the fake palms, a large shiny gemstone that can be used as a paperweight, and a very shiny bracelet. You know I love shiny, colorful things!

On the way back there were about half a dozen kids playing in one of the bigger common areas not close to our house. They were all about the same size and age of maybe 5 or 6. I’d have been so pissed if I were in one of the surrounding houses because that’s just so mainstream and so not what I think of when I think adult community. It was the weekend and they were visiting, but I still wouldn’t have liked it even though their screaming would’ve been easier to block out with sound machines than car doors. Car doors really vibrate the place with a jolt much in the way slamming an interior door does.

Speaking of kids, someone at work was selling cookbooks for their kid and I wasn’t too thrilled with Tom for getting one. For one, the workplace isn’t the place to sell things any more than school is an appropriate place for religion when there are churches for that. Secondly, neither of us cook! I can see wanting to support kids and their schools and all that, but I still think he should’ve passed it up.

I never could get into cooking. Not only is it too hot here most of the year for that, but most recipes require so many ingredients, some of which I dislike like lemon juice, salt and pepper, and there’s a lot of measuring and counting, something I suck at. Tom’s better with numbers and he likes salt and pepper just fine, but he doesn’t like a lot of things in general. He hates chicken and fish. He’s not a fan of vegetables either unless it’s potatoes. So even dishes like beef and broccoli would be out of the question.

Had a shitty dream last night. In one we were still living with Jesse who was suddenly starting this new job and anxious for us to move all of a sudden. I told him it may take 2 to 4 months and asked if he was going to kick us out. He seemed like he was considering it and I was following him around the land as we talked, only the land in the dream had several small ponds on it.

Next thing I know Tom and I are homeless and supposedly “voluntarily” trapped in a loony bin. Because we had no place to go, they were going to kill us. At some point in the dream, I found a cell phone on the floor and struggled to try to remember Tammy's number. I wanted to call her and get word to her about what was going on. “Nobody will ever know what happened to us if I don’t,” I said to Tom.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 29, 2014 Getting more nervous as my doctor’s appointment nears. I know it’s silly and I shouldn’t. It’s not like I’m going to be sentenced in court for something. I’m just going to see if I can get help adjusting my medication or not.

As for people and body parts annoying me, I had a scratchy throat and heartburn last night (heartburn is also connected to hypothyroidism), but the feeling of a lump being in my throat went away.

It was still a bit scratchy when I got up, but a throat lozenge helped with that. I considered breaking my levothyroxine pills in half and starting that tonight along with the statins, but IDK. I’m so afraid to treat it and I’m so afraid not to, even though I went years before I even knew about this thing.

Anyway, all was quiet next door till they took off shortly before 11am. Not long afterward I went out on my bike down and up the steepest hills in the park. I love coasting down that hill! It’s like a giant slide or a mini rollercoaster. Other than having to break for speed bumps, I just let the bike pretty much take me down the hill. I did a shortened version of my usual route. Not just because I didn’t want to overdo it, but also because I didn’t want to burn either.

I was a bit surprised to find my heart was doing 147 when I got in, but it dropped quickly. Then again, I have fallen out of shape a bit since this shit with the side effects has caused me to slow down the exercise.

So I’m lying in bed to catch my breath and relax a bit before tackling the laundry when I hear subtle movements outside. “Let me go see if they’re back already, or if I’m losing my mind,” I thought to myself, and sure enough, they were already back. It’s cooler today too, and this means an extension of the garage activities. I’ve heard a bike pump and a vehicle door slam, but all other sounds have been drowned out with rain and thunder vids.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 28, 2014 Once again, quite thanks to my 80-something neighbors who have more energy than your average 20-year-old, I am in the laundry room to escape whatever the hell it is they've been doing in that garage of theirs. I just can't figure it out. There doesn't seem to be enough stuff in there to organize in the first place. It's a single-car garage, so it's not very big. They can't be renovating it to use as another room since it's not climate controlled, and I doubt they'd want to always have to keep their vehicle in the carport, but this is really getting old. They have a right to do whatever it is they're doing, but I have a right not to hear it, don't I? She asks me if I can hear them doing their laundry at 6am, then gets noisier??? I don't get it.

I just worry they're going to start waking me up as I sleep later. If I keep hearing a lot of movement over there for another week or two, I'm sure they won't mind my asking what's up. That way I can get a sense of what's going on and if it's to be a regular thing. I just hope he's not getting into some kind of woodworking project, cuz that's likely to be an ongoing thing if he's going to try to sell whatever it is he makes or something like that. I did hear something running while in the master shower and then some hammering from the laundry room, though I do admit that could've been from anywhere.

The rooms that face their place are the master bed and bath, the kitchen, and part of the living room. The kitchen, living and dining area are all one big huge area with the only "divider" being the bookcase and counter.

Later…

Had to take a chill pill last night not so much for anxiety but because I couldn't sleep. I took it just after midnight. I like this stuff way better than Benadryl and Melatonin. Benadryl dries my mouth and Melatonin breaks up my sleep for an hour or so and can give me a headache. The lorazepam doesn't make me sleep forever either and awake feeling rested rather than groggy.

Yesterday my ear/jaw started acting up and I took an ibuprofen. Figures I couldn’t go a whole fucking day without something, huh? Today I’m fine, though, save for a slight lump-in-the-throat sensation that could be anything. My thyroid couldn’t enlarge itself in just 6 months, and would push outward and not against my trachea anyway.

While I may feel ok, my mind still races with worries. How in the world can I ever get myself to just live in the moment? There is so much to enjoy in the present – big things, little things – but I’ll never be able to fully enjoy them as long as I’m worrying… will these doctors really be willing to work with me? Or will we have to start the whole pain-in-the-ass process all over again to find someone who will? I have more confidence in my PCP than in my endo specialist. My endo doc seems to not only lack compassion but she made it seem like my only alternative would be very hard to regulate. So I think that if anyone’s going to be stubborn and put up resistance, it would be her. It’s a business same as any other and they quite often want to do what makes them the most money as opposed to what’s best for the patient.

I just want to enjoy this upcoming 3-day weekend without worrying what health issues we may have now and which ones we may get later on down the road! For years it was anger issues, now it’s worry-wart issues.

Later…

I am sooo happy for my sister! The house has closed and her husband will be down to join her next week. Wish I could be there for the happy reunion!

I chatted with Nane yesterday and had to laugh at the shitty weather she complains about. She’ll be heading somewhere into the sun soon enough, she told me, but doesn’t know where.

Thanks to those who gave me the hair and toilet advice. :) One suggests draining the toilet bowls and soaking those stubborn water stain lines with white vinegar-soaked paper towels, and another suggests Damage Therapy Clear Hair & Scalp Therapy shampoo to help my thinning hair. She had chemo for a while and so she knows all about thinning hair. In my case, it’s caused by the hypothyroidism. The meds can add to it, too. Since we plan on replacing both these old shitters, though, I think I’ll let the water stains live on. I’ll remember it for when the new ones get build-up.

I was working on my story when it hit me - an earthquake takes place in the story… and then one wakes me up for real. Weird. Real weird. And it’s not the first time life has imitated my creative works either.

Last night I was reading about palm reading for the first time in a while, and following the illustrations and what they could possibly mean. I guess a long lifeline doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll live a long life. I asked Andy if he believed in palm reading. He saw one in 1991 after moving to Arizona and the palm reader told him I'd move there within 1 year. Well, I moved there June 9, 1992 and didn’t know I’d be going there till a week or two before I actually made the move.

I’m not sure that I believe in this any more than I believe in gods, ghosts and angels. At least not without some serious direct experience or some scientific evidence to back it up. Besides, even if I knew for sure there was a God, I still say it’s mostly an unfair and cruel one given all the atrocities and tragedies that occur in life.

I’m reading a really good book now called Fractured Persona where this guy in California gets in a car accident and goes into a coma. He awakens in some other guy’s body in North Carolina and is told his wife (who’s not really his wife) actually beat him unconscious. So now he’s got to go along with it so he doesn’t get thrown in the loony bin.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 27, 2014 Believe it or not, I'm in Windows for the first time since we took our laptop to Hawaii. Although it may have improved, it's still not as secure as Macs, so I gotta be careful where I go and what I do.

It's weird being back in Windows and takes some getting used to. There are a couple of features I do miss, like how you can customize colors easier and I like how it puts what's open in little icons down below so I don't have to zoom out to get to things like I do on the Mac. The two aren't really overly different once you get used to them. The X to close windows is on the right for Windows and the left for Mac, though on the Mac it's a red dot, not an X. Time up top on the Mac, down below on Windows…

Like most people, I was resistant to change until the Windows viruses drove me crazy enough to go Mac and be virus-free as we have since I won them in 2008. Damn, I miss winning! But that's a whole 'nother story. Another thing I dislike about Windows is having to turn the thing off before bed.

Anyway, this computer, which they gave him at work, is actually super nice. Windows 7 Professional, I believe it is. It's in the laundry room, which also has a built-in desk. The keyboard is a bit high, but hey, they just didn't anticipate computers like this in 1983 when our house was built. I'm "training" this computer to know and remember my sites. So it doesn't feel stuffy in this room, I put the fan on auto.

Decided I was feeling better enough and was ready to expand my bike ride a bit to something between the circle and going around the entire park. There are now 3 houses for sale on this street, so I noticed. The sun was blinding but my heart was fine. If it wasn't the meds beating the shit out of my heart then I'm not short. Sure enough, as I did my final loop around the circle, Bob was entering the garage from the door in back. That's why I'm in the laundry room on the other side of the house. My 80-something neighbors have simply gotten a wee bit too active for me during the morning hours. I'll be in here till around noon. I just can't concentrate as well on my work with them slamming doors over there like they have been. Tom thinks it's just that getting the new oven inspired them to clean up a bit and get organized and that they'll settle down soon. I hope so! I'd rather work in my usual spot than in here, though this is better than nothing.

I'm actually typing this up as a draft in one of my writing sites, knowing I can pick it up from my Mac and copy it elsewhere. I can do the same here, it's just easier than going through our network. I have to, though, to get at things like my story doc. I'll probably work on my story most of the morning. I'll still hear some things from in here like car doors and maybe landscaping, but nothing major. The lady in the house straight across from the window behind this monitor never goes anywhere and rarely has company.

I'm not going to post this till I'm at my main computer later on cuz I don't have an electronic reader installed on here yet and I like to hear my entries as well as read them with my eyes. I hate typos so I use the Mac's built-in reader.

Making some butterfly shrimp now and sharing sweet corn with the rats, not that I expect anyone to care, LOL. The few times I have gone to the rooms alongside next door's garage I didn't hear a thing. So they wait till I get an escape plan in action before quieting down? Well, part of my job requires me to listen and watch videos so I could really do without all the bumps and bangs, as sweet as they are.

Later…

Started to worry I had a UT infection when I noticed a burning sensation when I peed yesterday (and when I first got up), and had a cramp-like feeling in my lower right abdomen. I don’t think so, though, thank God. I sure hope not! If I do then I’m going to go from wondering if there’s a medical curse on me to believing there actually is one on me. I put some of that cream down there and we’ll see. I’m still burning a little down there, but no ab pain and no discolored piss or anything like that, so that’s good.

I’m actually more worried about Tom right now than I am for myself. He first got chest pains in 2000 that he thought were heart-related but then learned it was exercise-induced asthma. Well, he’s not only had chest pains but trouble breathing as well. One time we had to go home instead of out to eat because he felt dizzy. He tells me it’s nothing and that humans simply have aches and pains and it’s part of getting older and all that, but he would say that. He would downplay things so as not to worry me. Really hope it’s just that he’s been so busy and was simply a bit tired.

While they’re no longer going to be doing Saturdays, I have mixed emotions about the weekday OT which is a forever thing with this position. We love that it’s a lot of money, but I’m not so sure I like him working 45-50 hours a week. Yes, I like my solitude and having some alone time to concentrate on my work, but I’m not sure if I want this much space. It’s easier to deal with now that I’m feeling better, though.

Been feeling better and better. No jaw pain, no pounding hearts, no nothing. So yeah, I’m either going to have to get my dose lowered or go on something else. Decided that Friday it’s back on the statins. That way Tom will have 3 days off on the off chance there are any problems. While I’d certainly rather look bad than feel bad, there’s something unnerving about losing all this hair. My once large round eyes are now nearly swollen shut in a face puffy from having this thing, and my once thick hair is thinning big time, also thanks to having this thing. How can one disease affect so many damn things??? My days of thinking hypothyroidism was only about weight are long over. I’ll probably never be able to lose weight on a lower dose, but if they can keep me from feeling like my heart is going to explode and like I’m going to suffocate, I don’t give a shit. I can at least keep myself in shape with exercise. That’s more important to me anyway. I hate not being able to do physical tasks without getting tired or out of breath so easily.

Although feeling better physically, my mind still races with worries and concerns. Not as much as yesterday, but still, I really wish I could just get this medication thing resolved so I can get on with my life without the worries, doubts and questions! Again, I don’t want to ignore my health, I just don’t want to treat it in a way that makes me feel worse than the problem itself ever could. The only so-called positive thing I can say about untreated hypothyroidism is the lighter, shorter periods. I really thought menopause was setting in.

When I came out to the kitchen to eat something shortly before 10:00, I noticed it was quiet next door as I sat at the counter. In fact, today’s the exact opposite of yesterday. Yesterday I’d never think I was in an adult community.

Bob left right before 11:00 but didn’t make a point of slamming doors several times beforehand. He just got in the SUV and left. This will probably be the last run of the day and he’ll probably go inside once he gets back as it’s warming up out there. They are definite morning people. So I’ve climbed back out of Windows and into my Mac. If we hadn’t set the Windows computer up last night they’d still be annoying over there, no doubt.

To give folks an idea of the setup here, our house is 62’ long and about 24’ wide. There are streets going by both of the short sides and one long side. That would be the back of the house. The front of the house faces the back of next door’s place.

Wondering if we need a new toilet for the master bath. We plan to eventually replace both these huge, ancient toilets, but the master one may have to be replaced sooner. After you flush it and the water stops, it’s just below the water stain line I can’t get rid of to save my life. After a while, though, the water line has crept up above the stain.

In last night’s dream, I was God knows where/how suddenly in possession of the black bitch’s computer. I was curious as to what was on it and combed through it in a way I hoped would never be discovered.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 26, 2014 No racy hearts upon waking but I had a weird experience just after midnight. A strong, steady pain in the area where the jaw connects (by my bad ear) woke me up and I had to take two ibuprofen. It was almost like when I had an infected molar, though I have no cavities much less infections that I know of in that area. It really sucked. I hope it doesn’t happen again.

I am not looking forward to next door’s bumps and bangs for the next 6 hours. By 6:30 I could already hear movement over there. They are the worst they’ve been since we moved in just over a year ago and it’s no longer just about them coming and going several times a day, but about slamming doors excessively and bopping around in their garage doing God knows what. It’s just really distracting and annoying at times, but you know Tom and Jodi can never get neighbors who aren’t so active and outdoorsy. Thank goodness they don’t have a dog! The damn thing would either be barking in the door just inside the garage or it’d be out there with them going off on whatever. Meanwhile, the sound machine or sound videos won’t block the vibration of car doors and trunks being slammed, but it’ll block other sounds they make.

Rode a mile on the bike yesterday and my heart elevated in a good way. It didn’t forget to slow down after I stopped working out and was just sitting on my ass either. Even so, I’m up nearly 3 pounds from yesterday for a few reasons. I ate like a pig yesterday. I’m retaining water like crazy now. And my metabolism is probably coming to a stop again or pretty damn close to it.

I did have a slightly racy heart later on in the day yesterday for a few hours but never had to take a chill pill. I thought I might have to in order to help me sleep, but nope. Really hope balance can be achieved as others have encouraged me it can be and that it doesn’t take too long or too much more discomfort on my part. If my only choice were to go untreated vs. put up with such intense anxiety and such heart-pounding discomfort, I’d go untreated. We’re not talking a dry mouth or some slight itching here. We’re talking major, OMG side effects.

I was surprised to hear someone say they had their thyroid removed as a teen. Wow, that young? They slack off on their meds and often go a few months without taking it. They also say they feel no different on or off the levothyroxine, which they’ve been taking for 21 years.

I rarely get headaches, but had another one yesterday. Tom thinks it’s due to a lack of caffeine. I still have caffeinated coffee, just not as often as I used to. I haven’t wanted to have any when my heart would be racing.

Later…

Just after 8:00, the door slamming started next door, so I knew that within 20 minutes or so they’d be off on their first run of the day. Hopefully, they’ll both go out together cuz whoever stays behind gets to bop around the garage and annoy the hell out of me.

I don’t know how long they were out for, but after 9:00 the SUV was just outside the garage and then I heard something loud running that might’ve been a pump. Then I opened the door and heard old '70s music playing on a radio. That could only be heard when I opened the door, but it’s the first time I’ve heard music from over there. Their trash and recycle bins are right outside the master bedroom and I saw Bob dump something in one, then enter the back of the garage, letting the screen door slam shut behind him.

I’m just tired of all the projects! They’re going to end up waking me up if they keep this shit up. They will not go indoors till after noon - 1pm, especially since we’re having a mild spell. If they’re not moving, then what the fuck’s going on over there? I’m hoping they’re just cleaning out the garage and will settle down soon, but I have a feeling that they’ll just go right into some other project, just like Jesse would always do.

Shortly after that, they had company for a while that pulled up in front of their place. It looked like their son and DIL that stayed there while they were on vacation. They were even quieter than Bob and Virginia at their quietest.

I’m just sick of all this activity right outside our front windows! It seems no matter what the age, gender, race, family size, social/economic status, we just can’t get neighbors who aren’t so damn active and outdoorsy. Still, I shouldn’t have to hear a couple of people this often who are in their 80s and not attached to us!

It’s been getting down to 73° in here in the mornings. I keep the thermostat set at 78° Pretty cool for August. I love the savings this brings to our electric bill, but not the outside activity it stirs up.

Saw Virginia leave when the Tuesday landscapers hit the house across the street. I’m guessing she left Bob behind in the garage since I think he’d be driving if he were with her. Now that the landscaping is done, though, and the temperature is climbing, maybe people will shut up around here and give me some peace. I really, really feel like I’m back in an apartment when people get to slamming their vehicle doors like they sometimes do!

Andy said maybe they'll die soon, but I wouldn't want that. They're not THAT obnoxious. Besides, something worse could end up over there.

Virginia's back. Oh, please, please pull into the garage! That would tell me they're probably done coming and going for the day. Damn! She didn't. She's in front of it. So I guess they're either going out again, still working in the garage, or both.

Anyway, I wouldn't mind them getting a cold or twisting an ankle here and there, but they don't need to die. Then I could end up with a couple with their parents/in-laws that are not only always outside and coming and going like crazy, but that also have mutts and rowdy grandkids visiting. I certainly wouldn't want that!

Later…

The SUV disappeared from the carport, but amazingly I don’t know if they went out again or pulled into the garage. I’m just glad it’s finally quieted down. This has GOT to be the noisiest day since moving here. Not just cuz of next door, but there was landscaping in front as well as the common area up the hill. Wait till the leaves start coming down. Then they’ll be out there every day without fail, rain or shine, except on Sundays. I don’t know why, but they catch the leaves faster than they can fall.

On the bright side, my anxiety is now barely noticeable. The only anxiety I have now is about what the future holds for me. People say it can be worked out, but people also said it wasn’t the meds causing my anxiety, including my doctor, and they were wrong. Sure looks that way, anyway. I don’t want to not treat my disease, but I feel so much better that a part of me is tempted to never turn to the doctors. I doubt I’ll do that, but I’m still worried about what can be done without all these issues. If my only choice is to have such killer side effects that are a million times worse than the disease itself, then it’s not worth it. Maybe I can eventually take something that won’t make me feel so awful, who knows? I just wonder if I can ever take anything ever again without fear and without being hyperaware and wondering if every little thing I feel is connected or not.

Looking back on it now, I wonder if I really did accidentally double-dose myself. Maybe it was simply the onset of the side effects I was feeling. Guess I’ll never know for sure.

Tammy left a message on the MagicJack line but I failed to get an email alert. So I chatted live with a helper on MagicCrap’s site and they reset my voicemail for me. Once my account expires in a couple of months, that’s it. I’m done with them.

Finally remembering more of my dreams again. I was in a large house or building and was the only white person present. Everyone else was black. Like most of my dreams, they consisted of a series of “scenes” that made no sense all put together. In one scene I was with a woman and a guy in their 20s. The guy was vacuuming. This seemed to be an upper floor where there were many hallways, closets and bedrooms. I shut the closet doors he’d left open when he was done after he vacuumed them out. This was in some hallway. Then I stepped into a bedroom that may’ve had more than one bed in it. I walked up to one and placed a couple of small dolls on it that were kinda ugly and didn’t seem like anything I’d collect.

In another scene, a woman asked me in an accusatory voice if I told some young guy if his “favorite” person were to be visiting. I guess they weren’t supposed to see each other or something. I shook my head, no, and the woman walked over to me and pinched my forearm. I asked her what the hell she was doing and she said it was a trick she learned to see if people were being truthful or not.

Then I was sitting on a couch between two young guys who started smoking a crack pipe. It suddenly hit me that if they got caught I would go down with them, so I said I better leave. They said they’d leave instead. I said, “Good, go,” and playfully kicked one of the guys in the ass as he rose from the couch. He wasn’t too happy about it either.

Then I was afraid of what inhaling the smoke may do to me so I quickly headed over to a big set of double doors and thought I might go outside for a walk. It was raining really hard, though. I waited a while, then when I looked outside again it was snowing, leaving me stuck with a bunch of strange, moody druggies.

Later…

Someone in the UK thinks my jaw pain was cuz I grind my teeth in my sleep, and Canada’s sure it’s TMJ. Whatever. Just as long as it doesn’t keep happening!

Someone in the US, Cali, to be exact, really thinks Nane's trying to avoid her. She just peeked in on my blog, but still… why isn’t she answering my emails? Could she really be that busy or does she just not want to dump me but not really be friends either? Either way, why do we still have to play these games at times? If her heart really isn’t in our friendship, why can’t she just come out and say so?

MONDAY, AUGUST 25, 2014 Slept well and didn’t wake up with a racing heart. Haven’t taken the levothyroxine since early on the morning of the 23rd and have been better since yesterday afternoon after taking a chill pill.

I’m not 100% sure the levothyroxine was responsible for how horrible I’ve felt these last couple of months, but I’m getting closer. All I know is that the less I take of it, the better I feel. We don’t want to rule out the statins completely, though it’s highly unlikely they’re the culprit after 6 months on the same dosage. However, why it took two months after being raised from 50 to 75mcg of levothyroxine now makes sense based on the research Tom did last night. It takes that long for each new dose to work full force. I thought it took a few days to a week for the levothyroxine to leave the body, but it actually takes 2-4 months.

Those who have had their thyroid removed aren’t in danger until 2-4 months after stopping the levothyroxine, so one lousy week isn’t going to kill me. I’m not taking the stuff at all. Then come Wednesday or Thursday I’ll take the statins again and see what happens. Even my sister, who worked in nursing, thinks my levothyroxine dose is too high for my body.

At this point, knowing myself and my body as well as I do, I just don’t see how what I was feeling was any kind of psychological reaction any more than I think it was anxiety that wasn’t connected to the meds at all. But why didn’t the doctor see this?! I know doctors are only human, but still. If I wasn’t half this anxious when things were at their worst in my life, why would I be this way when they’re going great, no matter how much my subconscious may be conditioned to think I don’t deserve good things after so many years of suffering? I realize the doctor doesn’t know my life story either. Either way, I do like this doctor a lot. She’s not just a hottie, but she’s very nice and doesn’t make you feel like just another number like my Endo did, and so I’m hoping she’ll be willing to work with us (yes, I’m taking Tom in for extra support next time I see her which he’s fine with, and that way I don’t forget to relay anything to him), but if not we’ll get another doctor.

I continue to be a bit forgetful that I can’t even remember my dreams. The only one I remember from last night is seeing my dentist. Only she was a GYN and not a dentist. My hair and even my eyebrows are thinning big time and I’m still losing weight. These things are nothing, though, compared to how awful I felt. I’d rather be fat, ugly, old, dumb and poor yet healthy than to have it all while I felt like shit. I may have my anxious moments in life, but not to such a severe degree that I feel like I’m either going to die or end up in the hospital. I knew something was wrong. Never has there been a medication I’ve taken in my life with such horrible side effects. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to take a lower dose or something else entirely without worrying, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 24, 2014 Took my statin last night and felt just a little anxious, but not too bad. I took a chill pill at the end of my day more because I was having trouble sleeping than because I was anxious. I crashed just before 8pm. Then somewhere between 3:00 - 3:30 my heart booms me awake. My first instinct was heavy footsteps vibrating the place, then I realized it was my heart. So now I’m wondering if maybe the statins are to blame, though it seems unlikely they’d mess with me after 6 months, if there was still enough levothyroxine in my system to cause it, if it was just anxiety alone, if something was wrong with my heart, or several factors combined. I am so sick of the confusion, the questions and the what-ifs! Tom also tossed around the possibility that maybe my adrenal gland’s a little haywire and that’s what’s causing me to wake up with a racing heart.

Then Tom got up a little after 4:00. I told him what happened and shortly after he comes running into the room and asked what time I woke up. As I told him, I couldn’t remember the exact time. Pretty sure it was no later than 3:30, though. That’s when he told me a 6.0 earthquake hit the Bay area and wondered if I wasn’t perhaps startled awake and that’s part of what made my heart take off on a run like it did, but I don’t know for sure what time I woke up like I said. Besides, even if it was the quake, I’ve been boomed awake by my heart a couple of times before. Tom, on the other hand, is such a heavy sleeper, the epicenter could be right under his bed and he’d sleep right through it.

Although I haven’t taken lorazepam since being up, I have been anxious on and off all morning. This is truly frustrating as hell. I know I’m PMSing now and that doesn’t help, but still. This isn’t like me and I miss the old me! Both Tom and Tammy assure me it can be worked out, but how? And when? She says she’ll call later with tips guaranteed to help my anxiety. Well, regardless of what may be causing it, I’ll do anything. Anything that’ll work!

Tammy pulled out her nursing books and asked me some questions about my meds and what I’ve been doing and I filled her in on dosages and how I’ve been trying different things to get at the core of the problem. She still thinks the worst thing I could do is not take the levothyroxine at all and says I should at least take it every other day. As for the statins, I don’t know what to do. This indecision is driving me crazy. I can’t wait to get in to talk to the doctor on the 3rd! I’m just sick of this shit. Totally and utterly beyond sick of it.

Later…

Right now we have more money than we need and we live in a beautiful house with more space than we need inside a safe and gorgeous gated adult community. It both saddens and frustrates me to know I can’t fully enjoy my life’s luxuries, luxuries I had to do without for so long and never thought I’d ever get to enjoy again. I have had slight but obvious waves of anxiety on and off all morning and finally took a chill pill over an hour ago. Now I feel great and the only thing to keep me from fully appreciating that is knowing it won’t last forever. Any second the tornado will be back to storm through me with its vicious slew of yucky feelings, both physical and emotional.

It is definitely looking like it was indeed the earthquake that woke me up, though, and thank goodness I didn’t know beforehand an earthquake would wake me up as I can assure you that would’ve scared the living shit out of me. Same as if someone had told me before January 14th that I would be diagnosed with Hashimoto’s. I’d have been like HashiWHAT??? I’d never heard of it before, though Tom has.

Anyway, 8 people in my town have reported feeling the quake, so who knows how many others felt it that we don’t know about? Tom thinks it woke me up because I was just about due to get up anyway. I usually sleep the standard 8 hours despite not having a set schedule. I’m surprised Andy's mother and sisters didn’t feel it since they were closer to it. Hundreds of people in Sacramento reported feeling it and since I’m barely a stone’s throw over the city line, then yes, I probably did get earthquaked awake.

I still don’t know what’s going on with me and as Tom points out, I may never know. There could be so many factors causing this, but he isn’t worried because it’s nothing dangerous – no matter how lousy I may feel at times – and all I need is just minor tweaking to help me. I hope he’s right! I might have to go on full-time anti-anxiety meds, but at this point, I don’t give a shit. Whatever it takes. I don’t care if I have to live in a bottle of happy pills to stay calm and happy and I don’t care if I get addicted.

Tom and I went to Denny’s this morning. He got an omelet and I got steak and eggs. God knows we can afford it, though I went easy on the eggs due to the cholesterol. Pulling in almost $800 last week is much appreciated despite how tired he’s been and how shitty I’ve felt, and we felt we deserved a treat. We rarely dine out, but maybe just a few times a year. You never know how long you’re going to do well financially anyway, as I’ve learned. He’s made good money most of his life, but not all of it.

Not sure swapping in money problems for health problems is the better deal, but that’s just how it is. Strange how things turn out, though. In 2011 we were discussing ending it together so we wouldn’t starve to death on the streets. Now we could get a decent living room set with just one paycheck. It’s also strange, and sad, how one’s life can change in just a matter of minutes. One day I was going about living my life. I’d just made the bed up. It was 6:15 on the morning of July 9th. By 6:30, life as I knew it changed for what I hope isn’t forever.

Going to Denny’s always brings back funny memories of when Andy and I worked there back east. It wasn’t funny then, but it is now. We worked graves, and oh, the pranks we’d pull! I wasn’t always a very nice, considerate or patient person back then, and one night Andy noticed I’d been on break an awfully long time. “I’m not on break,” I told him, “I’m fired.”

Some guy was demanding ketchup like I was his slave and not his waitress when I was trying to go on break. He wanted it “right now.”

“Yeah?” I told him, “Well, I want a million bucks and I ain’t getting it. Life… you win some you lose some, buddy.”

Management – uhem – didn’t think that was a very appropriate way to handle Mr. Gimme My Damn Ketchup.

It was funny when Tom asked me something about how something was done there since “I worked there before,” and I was like, “I can’t remember half the shit that happened yesterday, so how am I supposed to remember 1989 unless it pertains to some stunt we pulled?”

It’s amazing I was able to eat my entire T-bone since the stress has been sucking up my appetite a bit. I nibble more than I eat lately. I guess it was just that good, though a bit tough, and it’s not something I have that often. I’m still losing weight, though very slowly. God knows it isn’t from working out cuz I haven’t been doing much of that. Been too afraid to, not wanting it to elevate my heart even more. Still, I’d take 100 pounds just to feel better!

Later…

I guess the quake’s epicenter was 6 miles deep and could be felt for 100 miles. 90 people have been to the hospital and tons are without power. To think that I felt my first earthquake and was awakened by it is both scary and exciting.

So many people have said that if they had to start all over again they’d never have kids because they are just so much work and money. If my rats’ could be as much work as they were this morning, I can just imagine what those with kids go through and am all the more glad I never had any. Yeah, these furry guys really made me work my butt off cleaning tubes, hideaways and burrows, not to mention changing the bedding itself.

What sucks is how winded and jittery I’ve become lately. I wonder if I’m falling out of shape due to a lack of physical activity. One of the reasons I like to keep working out, whether I lose weight or not, is to stay in shape. To be able to do things without getting tired or out of breath. I really should at least make a point of running on the treadmill if only for a few minutes a day.

Tom and I went to Raley’s because he needed cash and we got a few things there that we couldn’t get at Walmart.

Tom and I relaxed in bed reading together. Well, I read and he played a game on his tablet. I tried not to ask myself how I would ever again be able to take medication without fear. I had some back pain when I got up and wondered if I’d suspect the meds if I were still on them. I probably would. “Humans have aches and pains,” Tom reminded me, but his wife is very hyperaware now and questioning everything. God, next thing I know I’m going to be questioning a spot on the wall and wondering if it’s an alien come to study me from outer space. :(

SATURDAY, AUGUST 23, 2014 Doc Sexy has ordered me back on my thyroid pills. I awoke to a message from her saying she definitely wants to see me and to continue my thyroid meds till I see Dr. D. But why hasn’t Dr. D called with an appointment for me? I guess I gotta call her, and then there’s the thyroid ultrasound and blood work to deal with… argh! It just seems so much to deal with! :(

I feel guilty where Tom’s concerned. I feel like my problems are bringing him down. I don’t blame him if that’s the case. I just wish it would end. I want the old me back so bad. The one who didn’t have to live in the fear of her heart suddenly racing for no reason at all and feeling like she was going to suffocate or have a case of the runs.

I haven’t needed a lorazepam since I got up, and I’m trying not to think – what if the main culprit really was the levothyroxine and what if today’s the day I’d have gotten better for good but won’t know that now that I’m back on the meds?

So many fucking what-ifs and questions but seemingly never any answers! :( All I can do is hope I get through the day without any major anxiety. This should be the last Saturday Tom has to work for a while and they should be all caught up at work.

Later…

I want to once again stress to anyone who may mistake my forgetfulness for lack of caring or not paying attention, that that’s not it at all. If I didn’t care I wouldn’t bother with you. Memory loss goes hand in hand with Hashimoto’s as well as stress/anxiety, so please don’t take it personally, ok? I do care and I do try my best to remember things. If that’s not enough assurance for you then I don’t know what else I can do. I’m doing my absolute best to keep track of things here within my home and with those I connect with online. So please don’t insult me by saying I don’t care or pay attention. If you don’t know me better than that then you either need to learn what I’m all about or not be a part of my life. I don’t mean to sound harsh or offend anyone; I’m just telling it like it is. I’m doing my best!

No attacks yet today. Just the usual door and trunk slamming from next door. I saw Bob place a dolly in the back of the SUV. Shortly afterward, they both took off.

I’ve been listening to nature sounds on YouTube not just to drown out little distractions, but to see if it helps relax me. Either way, Tibetan bowls are just as pretty sounding, if not prettier, than wind chimes. One of the things I like better about the vids as opposed to the sound machines I have is that the sound machines keep playing the same short recordings over and over while the vids are multi-hour long recordings.

I still don’t know what makes me ok any more than I know what causes the attacks. I’m still torn between the meds and just a strange case of anxiety. Tom says I may never know and that it could be a spec of dirt on the floor for all we know, and that’s what makes it kinda scary. If I don’t figure it out, then how can I stop it? I just hope the fact that I haven’t needed a chill pill today isn’t because my meds are out of my system. It was only a matter of hours ago that I got Dr. C’s message telling me to continue them. I did, however, have a kiddy smoothie right before I read her message and took the damn pill. This may’ve blocked at least half or more of its absorption.

I just feel bad for Tom. His patience is waning, and not that I blame him or anything like that, but this only makes me feel worse. Feeling bad is one thing. Having it affect others is another.

Later…

My skin has been a lot less dry since returning to Curél lotion and using a creamy body wash instead of a gel wash. You would think by now I’d have learned not to deviate from what works.

I’m both thrilled and bummed to say I’ve been anxiety-free today. Thrilled for obvious reasons, but bummed cuz it only continues to scream “meds” even louder. Between now and the 3rd I’ll be composing notes to take to the doctor cuz I feel the more she knows, the more it might help me. I hate to think that the doctor was wrong while the patient was right but she doesn’t live in my body, after all, and hasn’t experienced my feelings firsthand.

The question is what to tell the doctor without giving her the impression I’m trying to defy her or imply she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Doctors are human too, and they make mistakes. I know this. But I also know that I’M the one living in my body and I know how I’ve felt, so unless I’m surprised with an attack, I trust my instincts and am leaning toward either not taking the pills at all, or taking it with a smoothie so that I get some benefits minus the killer side effects. If time keeps proving my belief to be correct, I really worry just what the hell else I can take. How can they treat me in a safe way? There are side effects and then there are side effects!

Next door had company for a while, presumably to show off the new oven. I think there was a pickup and a car at some point, but it’s been quiet for the last hour or so. I just wish they would make vehicle doors that close soundlessly with all the coming and going they do. I never met anyone in my life who didn’t want to take just one day off here and there, but I know that as annoying as it sometimes is, and as much as I don’t get it, that doesn’t make them wrong.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 22, 2014 Happy 54th birthday to Nane, wherever she is. I emailed her twice but haven’t received a response. I let her know it on her wall, but that post disappeared. I’m not in the mood to play tag games with her right now. I need to get myself better.

Polly didn't return to my blog last night. She must not want that cracker, haha. I included a picture of a parrot in the post and the famous “Polly want a cracker?” thing. Of course, if I hadn't made that post in her honor she would've been. My guess is she's Pauli. That was probably a nickname of hers. I'm also guessing she may've had an abortion when she was young and she was looking to see if I knew about it and mentioned it. If I'm right, though, I don't see why it would matter to her all these years later, but who gives a shit.

Later…

Here’s the latest health update, then hopefully – hopefully – I will soon be able to talk about other things more often because my health and emotional state will be under control.

First, I’m glad my birthday picture made it to Nane's wall and that she likes it. Messages and other things are screwed up there, as usual.

I know I’ve said some negative things about doctors in general in my recent posts and that I have trust issues when it comes to them and all that. They may be doctors and they may be intelligent, but they’re still only human, and well, human beings do make mistakes at times. It isn’t that I don’t think mine know what they’re doing or that I’m afraid to trust them, but I sometimes fear the levothyroxine was more responsible for my anxiety than they may realize. Now don’t get me wrong, it was probably a number of things feeding off of each other, as Tom believes. I don’t know if he’s right about my subconscious thinking we don’t deserve to have the great life we now have, or that my subconscious was telling me the meds were bad, but I do know that it’s looking more and more like the levothyroxine really did have the biggest play in the booming heart and intense negative emotions. We do usually know ourselves best and I can truly say that I’ve never had anxiety that extreme before no matter how shitty my life has been at times. It does make sense that some substance was influencing it. I don’t think the levothyroxine was necessarily 100% responsible but it may’ve been around 80%. It’s still too soon to say for sure what things had how much of an influence on causing the shitty feeling. For once, though, it’s definitely not money. For many years, when something went wrong, it was usually about money. Now I just feel like shit. Getting better, but still not 100%.

The first half of my day yesterday sucked. Even though I sure felt like I was going to die and I knew from a logical standpoint that I wouldn’t, it was still scary as hell. Like walking into a room and finding a giant spider on the wall. You know that spider isn’t going to jump off the wall and kill you but you’re still terrified.

I spoke with one of my endo doc’s nurses, and apparently, they all keep in touch with each other as to what’s going on. I didn’t know my primary care would know I stopped the levothyroxine until I saw her in January. I didn’t think I’d hear from the endo doc again either, but the nurse told her to tell me of all the horrible and even deadly things that could go wrong if left untreated (long term, of course, and not tomorrow or next week or even next month)… enlarged thyroid, nerve damage, coma, etc.

She also had a message from my primary care saying that I needed to see her. I will be seeing her on September 3rd, but I haven’t heard back from the endo doc yet. Although she isn’t always prompt, it’s too bad I can’t be flattered that they’re trying to get me back in cuz they actually care about me when it’s probably really about money. Who knows, though, maybe they do care. Still, I know I have to put my trust in them soon enough and get this dealt with. I even postponed the dentist and my ear doc for now since this is more critical.

So anyway, I woke up with my heart a bit racy and took a chill pill. As I feel better and better and more convinced it was the levothyroxine, I can now move on to my next worry and that’s what the hell else can I take that won’t cause me to feel so lousy??? Tom and Tammy both tell me not to worry and that all I need is a minor adjustment, but I DO worry. Sometimes, seeing is believing for me, and until I can see I can treat my Hashimoto’s without feeling like I’m going to die, I cannot fully rest easy. It is a HUGE HUGE relief, however, to be feeling better. That was one of the worst physical experiences I ever had, and it was no fun emotionally either. If I could suddenly know for sure that I’d never experience it again I just might crack up in tears of relief that’s how horrible it was. It’s one more thing to add to my list of traumatic memories, but I’d rather it be a memory than a reality. If another attack does get me later on (I have, after all, falsely thought I’d seen the last of them before), then that’ll suck too, cuz then it could be almost anything. I think Tom’s right, though. It isn’t just one thing. I personally think it was mostly the levothyroxine.

I’m worried for my sister who’s understandably worried for herself who has to see her pulmonologist today. A friend’s taking her because she doesn’t want her to go alone. That’s nice of her. If I was alone and all my friends lived in town, I wonder how many of them would offer to take me if I were in her shoes?

With the way medicine is so advanced today and advancing even more, I believe they will figure something out. Even if they can’t make her better, I think they can help keep her from getting worse.

The gel nails are definitely worth the extra money. Day 5 and I have just a few chips on the tips of 3 nails on my right hand while the left hand almost looks like it was just done. It’s good for if you’re going on vacation for a week or so and you don’t want to take regular polish and make touch-ups along the way. We paid $25 for a set of a color base coat and a topcoat, plus another color base.

Saw Jim again when I was out riding earlier. Yesterday I said hello to Bob while he was puttering around in the garage. They’re getting a new oven, so I guess that’s why I’ve been hearing him in there more lately.

Later…

Without Tom and Tammy's support and constant reassurance, which we all need at times, I think I’d either be dead or in the hospital. Words cannot express how grateful I am to them for their patience and compassion.

The good news is that Tammy didn’t say she had anything terminal when she left a voice message, but she does have a lot of scarring and inflammation along the wall of her chest. Her bronchial tubes are also messed up and I guess that means mucus gets clogged in them. They’ve got her on antibiotics.

As for my case, she says my Hashimoto’s disease is causing some of my anxiety (I never had attacks like this prior to the meds, though), but it’s nothing to worry about. I’m just an anxious person; anxious over the unknown, trying to get help, etc, but the absolute worst thing I could do is stop the meds. She thinks I should take it at least every other day. I still want to wait till I see the doctor, though, which is only a couple of weeks away.

She too, recommended deep breathing and pointed out that all meds have some side effects and that I just have to mentally overcome that (HOW?). She said she goes about her day without worrying if her breathing problems are going to act up and all that, but she’s tougher than me. I feel just fine right now but what’s spoiling my chances of enjoying it fully is knowing that any second, I probably won’t be fine at all. I’m just a wimp, I guess.

I woke up with a racy heart just before midnight and was fine till around 8am when my heart raced on and off for an hour or so. It sucked but was too soon to take a chill pill. I could take one now, but now I’m ok, so I’ll skip it for now. I just miss the old me!!!

THURSDAY, AUGUST 21, 2014 So I get up, check my blog visitor list, and wowee! There's my cousin Polly again after a looong time. But wait. Could that really be the one who never gave a damn about me as a child or as an adult? OMG, you mean now she suddenly gives a shit about me and what's going on in my life?!

But, but, but, if that were the case then why did she search for herself? The fact that she doesn't have the guts to contact me directly makes me wonder just what's going on in that little brain of hers. Not only did she search for her own self, but the town I grew up in as well, and a name I do not recognize. Oh, and she searched "abortion," too. Who the hell does she think had an abortion? T'wasn't me.

Well, folks, maybe someday my dear cousin will actually become brave enough to work up the nerve to contact me and tell me why all the sudden interest in my blog. Yeah… maybe…

Later…

I wish I could report that I’m all better now. No more racy hearts, no more having the runs, no more nasty emotions. But sadly, they’re still occurring on and off. My endo doc’s nurse called asking that I call in. I will later on. Guess she doesn’t want to give up on me. Or does she not want me to give up on her? I know I canceled the appointment in a distraught state, and it’s not like I want to throw my health away and give up on my health problems. I just needed to back off the pills to try to isolate the problem, but that’s just the thing, as Tom pointed out, there is no one problem. Yeah, the meds might’ve influenced the anxiety a little, but he believes that deep down my subconscious is causing my anxiety. He believes that because I was abused and conditioned to believe that I don’t deserve good things, it could be what’s stirring up this anxiety. Things are better than ever for us right now. I do get “suspicious” when things go well after so much hardship in the past, I will admit that, but on a conscious level I definitely don’t want to suffer, and I do believe that if anyone deserves good things, it’s us. I want to breathe easy and know I can treat my disease without fear. Tom also thinks that whatever I believe will make the anxiety stop. If I believe a new medication will do the trick, then it will stop. But that’s another thing I worry about; taking new pills and wondering what they may do to me. After 3 days, though, there may not be much left in my system, which would mean it was indeed much, more anxiety than the pills. That’s WHY I stopped the pills; to see if I could narrow it down at least a little bit.

I hate having to pass messages through nurses and not being able to talk directly to the doctor, but I will call the doctor’s office once they open. They also want to schedule my ultrasound that checks for any signs of cancer or enlargement of the gland itself.

I may put my dentist appointment on hold till I get all this other shit figured out. The thyroid and anxiety are way more important than my teeth.

I just want to feel like myself again no matter what I have to do to achieve it. But I also don’t want to get so bad that Tom has to jeopardize his job to help me. Tom said I’m his number one and he can always quit and get another job in a couple of months, and while that’s really sweet of him, I don’t want it to come to that. I don’t want to end up like Robin Williams, deep in so much despair and beyond help. I don’t think I will, though. I’m not suicidal. I don’t want to die. I just want to stop feeling like shit. That’s all I want. Anything after that is just a bonus.

As I told Tammy, I’d rather be struggling in Jesse’s dumpy old trailer and wondering why the hell I was gaining weight with diet and exercise, than feeling like such shit. Kind of surprised my weight hasn’t climbed since stopping the pills, but it’s only been a few days and it’s not like I gained a pound a day. Also, the anxiety is really lowering my appetite.

I felt so good for a few hours yesterday morning after he left, rode my bike, said hello to Jim along the way who was out on his walk, then boom. Just when I thought it might be over, I was later sitting at my computer when my heart ramped itself up. I had to take a chill pill. I slept ok, though, but as soon as I got up, sure enough, my heart was racing. The chill pills don’t make me perfect but they help.

For now, Tom and I agreed to send him quick updates throughout the day so I feel less alone. He reads them on his phone when he gets the chance.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 20, 2014 My day ended miserably yesterday and started off just as hellish, but first… prior to being diagnosed with hypothyroidism, I remember telling Tom that I wasn’t sure what would be worse… the doctors not finding anything wrong, leaving me to wonder why the hell I kept gaining weight WITH diet and exercise, or if they did indeed find something wrong. I finally decided it’d be best if they just told me my thyroid was dead so I could treat it and get on with my life without gaining any more weight. Well, they sure did, alright. Only problem is that while it did seem like a quick and simple fix at first – just swallowing a couple of pills – little did I know that I would develop anxiety worse than anything I’d ever experienced even when my life was at its worst. Like being with an abusive mother, stuck in state-run nightmares as a teen, jailed for a crime I did not commit, or poorer than poor itself.

I took the pills. I stopped gaining weight. I even lost a little, and a little is a lot at my height. But ever since July 9th, life as I’ve known it came to an end, making my weight seem like NOTHING. I still have random anxiety attacks that affect me both physically and mentally. Racing heart, feelings of suffocation, and just about every negative emotion under the sun only it’s intensified in ways I hope my readers can and will never comprehend. Nothing I do and nothing I tell myself seems to stop them and I can never know when they’re going to hit or how hard they’ll hit when they do. How severe will the panic be? How scary will it be? How much will I fear I’m going to die or end up in the hospital? When will it happen? I just can never know. The only thing I do know is that this is NO way to live.

I fell asleep at 1pm (I’m on half days/half nights right now) and could not stay asleep to save my life. I’ve always been known to wake up a few times throughout my sleep, but this was like every 20 minutes or so. At 4:15, I jumped out of bed with a racing heart and took a chill pill. Unfortunately, though, my anxiety escalated to full-blown panic before the pill could take effect and Tom left work a little early, even though he’d already done some OT.

In my state of panic, I questioned the off-chance of it being my heart and not just anxiety and he said that with all the doctors that have listened to my heart lately, that was not only unlikely but that I’d already be dead by now if it was. Hearts don’t usually act like that for months before they get you. “See, it’s calming down now that we’re talking and I’m not magic.”

I agree there’s nothing physiologically wrong with me in that sense, or life-threatening, but we’ve decided that the best thing to do is to put me in reset mode, so to speak, and let my body empty out of all its chemicals. I'm not taking anything but lorazepam when I need to relax and ibuprofen when I'm in pain, because that’s not part of this equation, as Tom pointed out. They do their job and then they leave the body. They’re not long-term like the thyroid and cholesterol meds. That’s why they took so long to catch up to me.

We now speculate it's not just one thing causing these horrible feelings, but possibly a number of things. Just the whole chemical overhaul and all that. We think that I simply made too many changes too fast and my little body simply couldn't handle all the drastic changes and that it threw my chemicals off. Sometimes it doesn't take much. So I am taking a week off from it all. A short time isn't going to cause my thyroid to kill me nor will my cholesterol jump that fast. I am watching what I eat and avoiding eggs and high-cholesterol foods for now. There are a few external anxieties as well, like not knowing what’s going on with my sister.

After a week or so, then we'll decide what's best to do once I'm in reset mode and all the drugs are out of my system. One way or another I've GOT to stop these attacks. They're crucifying in every sense of the word, having my heart race to 120 when I'm just sitting there and feeling like I can't breathe and going to die. The feeling of utter doom when my life is otherwise going great is truly debilitating and I'm determined to stop it whether that means going with no meds, different meds, homeopathic treatment… whatever it takes. I'd rather live just 5 more happy years than 30 feeling like this! It is THAT bad. All I know is I can't do too much too fast at my size. I may be 20 pounds overweight, but I'm not even 5 fucking feet.

As soon as I got up at 11pm, sure enough, my heart was booming in the 120s and I felt like shit. It’s going to take a week or so for all this shit to get out of my system. I’m just trying not to think, then what? Then what??? What if I can never treat my thyroid because everything throws off my chemicals and makes me a basket case? I’m trying to take Tom’s advice and take one day at a time without worrying about a week from now, a month from now, or a year from now. It took 4 hours but right now I feel just fine. But how will I feel in a few hours from now? That’s the scary question. I’m trying to turn those future thoughts off, but it’s not easy. One thing I can say for sure is that a part of me wishes I’d never even gone to the doctor in the first place. Ever. I would go back to living in poverty in a heartbeat to get rid of these God-awful feelings!

My mouth was dry all day yesterday too, but that was probably my fault for having too much soda and not enough water, so I’m making sure I water myself down today.

Facebook is fucked up AGAIN and Nane has been unable to see my messages, so I emailed her. I thought something was up. She and her family also vacationed up in "den Bergen." She said to check out the pics, but I don't see any on her wall. :(

What else… Bob was hammering something in his garage yesterday morning at 9:30. Then I heard what sounded like duct tape being unrolled, and then a vacuum. Really hope he doesn’t make a habit of making a racket, but that would actually be quite a luxury as opposed to these killer anxiety attacks.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 19, 2014 No racy heart in the shower. I knew that wasn’t right for my heart to go on a rampage just because I showered. It probably would a little bit if I took a very hot bath or got in a Jacuzzi, but not only was that not normal, I like my showers cooler at this time of year. The swallowing issues, eye and head pressure may not have been connected, though. Can’t say for sure. I’m still frustrated over the whole thing despite feeling better without the killer heart/anxiety issues. I’m going to miss having a metabolism. But I should’ve been TOLD and WARNED. My Gosh, how could my PCP not suspect the anxiety was connected to the levothyroxine? With all the complaints similar to mine? When I asked if there were any side effects she said, “No, it just may make your heart racy.”

The correct answer would’ve been, “It may make your heart race like hell, give you the anxiety from hell, knock your hair out, and maybe give you a few other minor problems. It could get severe enough that you can’t stand to treat the disease and will therefore have to ask yourself, which is the lesser evil, the meds or the disease?”

Like I said, I’ll treat the damn disease and take my metabolism as soon as there’s a way to do it that doesn’t leave me feeling absolutely miserable, but if it exists, I don’t know about it. I appreciate the doctor fixing my ingrown toenail and taking care of my female problems, but now I’ve got trust issues when it comes to doctors. I’ll talk to Tom some more when he gets up, but if he’s not overly concerned or worried over me not taking meds, then I won’t be either. So chances are I’ll be canceling appointments.

Anyway, I took a nap for an hour and a half late at night, which is a good thing because I got up earlier than I wanted to.

Day 3 and my shiny gold gel nails show not the slightest hint of chipping.

Gonna need to really back off the high-calorie foods – sweets, pasta, pancakes and other rich foods and stick to meats, fruits and veggies.

Later…

Canceled my appointment with my endo doc online, giving a brief statement as to why.

Gonna keep taking my cholesterol medication since not treating my thyroid is only going to raise it. Since I have no side effects from the simvastatin, why let my cholesterol levels get so high?

I don’t understand, though, why Tom thinks the side effects of the levothyroxine are coming from my subconscious. If that were the case, wouldn’t I have had side effects from the start? At first I thought it was just the stress of accidentally ODing, but then I found many others said their own side effects took them a couple of months to catch up to them, too. Mine came a couple of months after she raised my dosage.

In better news, Tom got a dollar raise!

MONDAY, AUGUST 18, 2014 Tom said he read an article about a news anchorwoman who’s had anxiety all her life. Her way of dealing with it was to become an alcoholic. That’s sad.

Tom also says I’m “stronger” than that. That’s sweet of him but sometimes I don’t feel that way. I am determined, however, to get through this one way or another whether that means ultimately taking anti-anxiety medication regularly, quitting my meds, changing my meds or whatever. I don’t want to drink, of course, but I’m not going to let it rule me.

Tom assures me I’m already better than a week ago and MUCH better than a month ago. Well, I’m definitely better than a month ago since I no longer have such severe anxiety that turns into downright panic attacks. I’m no longer afraid to be alone or having to call him at work. But that underlying feeling of emotional yuckiness still comes and goes in waves and just 60 seconds of this shit can really crucify the spirit. It’s that bad, and the spontaneous racy heart is annoying as hell.

I’m just trying to keep busy and focus on happy things. I like being busy anyway, and I like being happy, too. Bad things happen in the world. It isn’t that I’m unaware of that. I just choose not to dwell on it whenever possible. It’s like knowing cigarettes are bad for you and smoking them vs. knowing they’re bad but not smoking them.

Anyway, I go to take a shower and in the shower, I’m aware of my heart accelerating a bit. I get out, see it’s 110, then I see a spider on the bedroom ceiling where it meets the wall above the bed. Next, I’m thinking, “Oh, great. This is really gonna jack the hell out of my heartbeat,” as I ran for the vacuum to suck the bastard up. But as soon as I did so and sprayed a shot of bug spray into the vacuum before turning it off, I felt perfectly calm. Calm, cool and collected after killing something I’ve always found creepy as hell. Even stranger was that I go on a bike ride on the type of terrain that should bring my heart around 120 and come home to find it’s only at 104. Interesting, huh? Well, I am strong and fit and need a more challenging route like the park’s perimeters. I’m just not brave enough yet for fear of my heartbeat going over 130-140 unless I bring Tom along. We both want to ride together more often regardless of what’s going on, but he has limited time and I have a crazy schedule, so syncing up our rides isn’t that easy.

I just wish that fucking mutt would quit going off on me and I thank goodness it can’t be heard in the house! I’d be calling that office so damn fast if I were next door. I feel bad for next door unless they’re deaf. I don’t know about that, though, cuz their front light went on for a few minutes and I’ve never known that house to have a motion sensor of any kind. They’ve definitely got the damn things (I think there may be two now) tied up in back of their carport. Either that or they’re barking through an open door/window, but I think they’re actually outside. No one came to shut them up either and certainly, someone had to have been home. What rude assholes! I only made a few rounds around the circle, mostly cuz I felt bad for anyone that was disturbed by it than I did annoyed for myself since our house is far enough away from it and I can escape the damn thing anytime I want to. It was getting late.

We’ve been talking about taking vacations (to tropical places) every January and mixing up the fun with the home improvements. The home improvements are fun too, but they are time-consuming, a pain in the ass, and costly. But so is traveling. Even a cheap trip to Florida where we flew economy and stayed in cheap motels (Tammy could feed us for the most part), would be at least $1500, and that would be more than the cost of most of what’s left on our “to do” list. The only thing that would cost as much or more than getting new carpet would be if we replaced windows and had a company rip out our too many trees, bushes and plants and replaced them with gravel or something simple like that.

Yesterday morning I did my nails in gold gel chrome. It is a bit thicker than regular polish but you can still see the ridges I have in my nails. Not as much, but still somewhat. Can’t wait to see if it really lasts longer than regular polish since this is an epoxy and not acrylic. I stuck my hands out in the bright sunlight yesterday morning as Tom was watering and that helped set the epoxy quickly. The dazzling gold was blinding in the sunlight!

Later…

Bye-bye, thyroid meds. You may’ve given me a metabolism for a while but you also made me miserable and drove me crazy. I’d rather be fat, fatigued and forgetful once again than deal with the racy heart you gave me and the anxiety from hell.

Yes, I have quit all my meds. Ah, an 84 heartbeat is much comfier than a 112. NO DOUBT whatsoever in my mind that it WAS the meds. My PCP isn’t very bright or at least isn’t very experienced with Hashimoto’s cases. I’ve read that so many others also said it took a couple of months for the symptoms to get them too, and that they did come on rather quickly when they did. As I told Tom, if he can think of some alternative that will let me treat the disease without killing me, let me know, but right now I can’t come up with anything. Other meds mean problems with doses. Numbers are critical so lowering the dose is out. I can’t “get used to it.” I could mask the symptoms with a permanent chill pill but then I will always live in a fog. I would rather feel good and have this thing kill me in 5 years than suffer the side effects for 10 or more years. It was a truly God-awful feeling. We weren’t just talking about a dry mouth or something like that. Even the hair loss was nothing compared to the anxiety, racy heart, funny feeling when I’d swallow, and eye/head pressure. Might have to work out more now to counteract the slowing metabolism and ward off joint pain. That joint pain wasn’t just age or lack of exercise, but the Hashimoto’s. I just didn’t know it at the time just like I didn’t know the hoarse voice, wimpy periods and other shit were connected.

I only ask that if I appear forgetful to friends that they keep in mind it’s not that I’m not paying attention or that I don’t care. If I didn’t care I wouldn’t bother with them in the first place.

Anyway, I know there are some risks in not treating my condition, but life is about taking risks, isn’t it? Every time you get in your car you risk getting into an accident. Every day there is a risk that a meteorite may fall on our heads. As my metabolism slows the weight gain and fatigue will return and my heart will be at risk, but if anything bad really does happen that should be years away. A coma, as the heartbeat gets slower and slower and the metabolism completely dies, should come with plenty of warning because you should feel exhausted all the time. There’s the risk of a goiter too, because the thyroid will now try to work harder to produce what it can’t produce on its own and that can enlarge it. Again, this would take years.

I realized that the only thing in the way of me feeling better was ME and that if I just stop taking the damn pills I’d be better. I’d just have the original symptoms, though they are certainly the lesser of the two evils. God still hates me but I’M in control of my life. Besides, I know He’s not going to kill me anytime soon. He can’t have fun torturing me in some way or another every few years if I’m dead.

I will survive. I will just do it in a way that doesn’t make my heart feel like it’s going to jump out of my chest.

I’m going to love being pill-free once again except for my vitamins and not having to worry about remembering to take them and what over-the-counter stuff might interact with them, though I would’ve put up with the hassle had they not made me feel the way they did.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 17, 2014 God, I’m a real idiot! I decided to delete my group on Facebook. The way to do that is to delete your members and then yourself. Like an idiot, though, I deleted myself first. I contacted Facebook about it, but I don’t expect to hear from them. It wouldn’t hurt anything if it just sat there, so it’s not that big a deal.

Tom and I talked about the communicating through pictures thing. He is the ONLY one who knows about it and understands that it’s a psychic thing and not an imaginary friend thing or voices in my head.

Today is Tammy and Mark’s anniversary. Unfortunately for them, they can only wish each other a happy anniversary by phone.

Really worried for Tammy at this point. Her breathing test didn’t go well. She said something about how a nebulizer usually helps her improve, but this time it didn’t. I guess there is a lot of inflammation in her lungs and her immune system is shot, too. They feel it’s too risky to do anything to boost her immune system. She had a UT infection and instead of taking the week it normally takes to kill that off, it took her a month. In her words, she said she’d know more on Friday but right now it “doesn’t look good.”

But does “it doesn’t look good” mean she’ll get worse? Or just that she won’t get better?

Later…

Went to Walgreens earlier just for fun and decided to try Sally Hansen’s Miracle Gel nail polish that doesn’t require any kind of UV light, so I got a kit that comes with polish plus the top coat. I also grabbed a single bottle, so I’ve got Tidal Wave, which is like a royal blue, and Game of Chromes, a shiny gold.

Only problem is I can’t try it out now because I don’t have any nail polish remover to remove my old polish with. Tom’s going to Walmart in a few hours. I’ll probably be too tired to do them then, so I’ll wait till tomorrow. Some of the reviews I read suggest it would probably be best if I did it during the daytime and could stick my hand out in the sunlight to help it dry faster.

We also grabbed some pistachio nuts and caramel truffles, and he got a new dry-erase board to use for programming notes.

Later…

Had a great day yesterday that didn’t end quite as well. My heart raced out a bit in the end as I was trying to sleep after being up 18 hours (112). It wasn’t scary but it was annoying. I had to take a chill pill to relax enough to sleep. sighs I feel like the old me (minus the unmedicated effects of the thyroid disease) is gone forever. Tom keeps saying I’ll adapt. He doesn’t know when, but I will go longer and longer between chill pills as I get used to the thyroid bringing back my original “old self,” as funny as that may sound. The one who was naturally anxious but had learned to deal with it.

I think yesterday’s racy heart and trouble sleeping was more the junk food that I had too far into the end of my day than actual anxiety. I realize now that hoarding too much sugar when you’re naturally wound up and on a drug that’s boosting your metabolism, isn’t a very wise idea. I don’t have to throw away all my weekend snacks, but I should definitely have fewer treats. Having 5 rich truffles, then some nuts, and then trying one of the brownies Tom got, was a bit overkill. If it weren’t for the meds I’d be up a pound. Didn’t ride yesterday so I definitely want to try to get in a ride tonight.

Tom also thinks I'm "psychically acting" like change is coming, saying I'm able to sense change before it comes and then I get all antsy over it, not knowing if it's to be good or not. Well, if any of this is on account of upcoming change, I hope it's good!‎

Based on my typical time frames for sensing the unknown when it comes to change affecting us, we'd probably have found out this week if that really was the case. A win notice for me? A raise for him? Both seem doubtful right now, though I did have that dream of winning a trip, which could be a good sign.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 16, 2014 Got up a little while ago and am almost afraid to face the night ahead not knowing what anxiety/depression may hit me. It’s very random and gets me when I least expect it. I was fine when I wrote my last entry, but as the night progressed I was aware of a subtle yet distinct underlying feeling of anxiety and depression. Tom’s theory has got to be right about the old me and her chemicals being thrown off, cuz I haven’t gotten this way without a reason in centuries. Meanwhile, my life is fine. Everything’s going great. There’s no external reason, so to speak, for me to feel this way. I can totally see how it can drive some people to suicide no matter what they’ve got going for them.

Tom also believes I’ll adapt and that I will continue to get better and better. Well, the severe physical type of attack has stopped. It’s now down to just an emotional feeling. Still a shitty way to live, but at least my heart’s not booming like crazy and I’m not feeling dizzy or running to the toilet. So yeah, I’m better, but still not good. I don’t want to feel so on edge every other day or so, but I’m not sure yet if I should run to the therapist, ask my PCP for a full-time chill pill, or just give it a little more time. I wish I could quit the meds altogether but if I do that I have the original problems all over again. If anxiety comes on tonight I’m not going to wait for hours hoping it’ll get better. After an hour or so I’ll take a happy pill. I’d rather not feel bad enough to do so in the first place, but we’ll see!

Took a break from working on this entry to apply the glitter tea rose stickers above the bed, which arrived today. They look great! Stylish and colorful without adding a gaudy, circus-like touch to the room. If I had to start over again, I wouldn’t have painted the hallway such a bold shade of pink. I probably should’ve done the pale lavender there and a paler pink in the second bedroom, but oh well.

As I was applying those and waiting for my food to cook, sure enough, my anxiety and my pulse rate went up a bit. As soon as I sat down and started eating, though, I was fine. I hope Tom’s right in guessing I’ll learn to live with these meds without taking a regular chill pill or returning to the therapist, but I sometimes feel like my only options are going to be to chill pill it regularly or stop the damn meds.

I know another stupid thing I need to do is stop watching such sad stuff when I’m already feeling kind of blah. Was it really smart to watch a documentary on condemned prisoners’ final 24 hours on death row like I did last night? I was never big on the news due to its often sad and infuriating content. The problem with the Internet is that there are links everywhere, making it harder to avoid. Still, I don’t have to click on them or watch such sad and depressing stuff on YouTube. I guess I was watching these things for a while not just out of curiosity and because I like to learn, but to remind myself that things could be worse. Right now I definitely have it better than a lot of people, maybe even most. I have a sleep issue that’s debilitating, yes, and a disease that’s a pain in the arse, but I am otherwise healthy, loved, well off financially, and living in a beautiful home.

Despite how well things are going at the moment, I sometimes wish we could get the hell out of Cali. My skin is drier than dry here and we’ve had some of the scariest times ever in this state. But unless poverty revisits us and we lose the place, we should be here for over a decade.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 15, 2014 Tomorrow, which is just about to arrive in the east, Tammy will be Tom’s age.

For those of you who have asked, yes, I’m doing ok now anxiety-wise. I want to thank those that have prayed for me since this shit started over a month ago, but as always, I was on my own to work through it, and any support I did get came from those that walk on two legs and a bottle of pills. Don’t know if it’s because there is no God or at least one that doesn’t give a shit, but it was/is up to me to get through these things with the love of my good friends and family. But hey, I did survive and I will keep on surviving, and I do appreciate those who thought of me. :)

Looking at it from a logical standpoint (or at least what I personally consider logical), when you consider the fact that no God seems to give a shit about those suffering and dying from Ebola, or about the kidnapped females in Iraq, it only makes sense that none would give a shit about me. Like what would make me so special, right? That’s ok, though, for my husband’s love is what’s most important to me. Tangible beings that I can see, hug, touch and feel, along with those I can only communicate with online

I know that in today’s time, a white person who says even the slightest negative thing about the behavior of blacks is automatically presumed racist, but I don’t care. I’m not going to let popular opinion/belief stifle me from expressing myself in my own journal because I know what I really am and am not and that’s good enough for me.

I still don’t know all the particulars and while it’s sad that the black boy was shot and killed in Ferguson, it really irritates me that these incidents are always automatically labeled as racist or hate-based. Yeah, there are a lot of corrupt, trigger-happy cops out there who are high on power and have their various prejudices. Sometimes they can be worse than the civilians. No doubt about that. I’ve known this for years and haven’t been the least bit afraid to express my feelings towards cops in general. But racism makes no sense in this case. If it were all about killing innocent blacks just because they’re black the numbers would be much higher. They wouldn’t kill just one, but more like one a week or at least one a month until they were fired. In addition, how the hell can the cops always know if someone’s armed or not? If what little I heard is true, the kid gave the cops every reason to believe he was armed and dangerous. Can’t expect the cops to just stand there in cases like that.

Meanwhile, rioting every time something bad happens is never a solution. It only makes you look bad. It’s ok to be angry, but violence isn’t the way to solve problems like a few groups of people seem to think it is.

I’ll bet the cop that shot that kid is shitting in his pants at the thought of his name being released if it hasn’t been already. These days you just don’t shoot blacks and get away with it, though you’re still perfectly able to shoot all the whites you want. That’s just society’s double standards for you, only those “standards” have shifted over the years. A black person can make all the racist jokes they want at work with no repercussions whatsoever, but if a white coworker dares open their mouth, out the door they go.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 14, 2014 Unfortunately, I got a little anxious late last night and took a happy pill shortly before bed for the first time in a week. Tom said he didn’t understand why I was so against taking them when I asked if he thought I should take one or not. It isn’t that I’m against it; it’s just that I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to.

My heart wasn’t racing and I wasn’t having those dizzy spells that make you feel like you’re going to pass out. No runs either. I just felt almost as if there was an invisible pressure on my throat and like swallowing was a touch difficult. There was an underlying feeling of apprehension I just couldn’t shake no matter how much I tried to focus on the millions of positive things going for me. The nurse was right when she said you can’t control this shit. You learn to live with it but you can never know when or where it’s going to hit you. I’m sure those who have never experienced it may be tempted to roll their eyes and say, “Get over it. Just get over it.”

Oh, how wonderful and easier life would be if we could “just get over” this or “just tell ourselves” that.

But I can and will learn to deal with it. It’s all I can do. Tom just said he read that Robin Williams was recently diagnosed with Parkinson’s and that’s probably what pushed him over the edge. I wonder what additional diagnoses may push ME over the edge, but I hope I won’t have to find out. A part of me wishes I could rewind the hands of times to before January 14th when I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s, back to when I was pill-free save for an occasional painkiller or allergy pill. Yet while it would be nice to just stop taking pills and quit going to doctors, that would only invite the original symptoms back into my life and they would ultimately kill me. So I feel kind of stuck at times. Not exactly looking forward to what may lie ahead, but knowing I can’t go back either.

The anxiety and feelings of underlying dread and doom are getting less severe and less frequent so that much is good. Will I ever have to go back to the therapist and take full-time anxiety pills? I don’t know that yet. I hope not. I don’t want to have to spend $35 every week or two just because we can. I’d rather spend that money on things for the house and for our savings as well.

Tom and I are pretty sure that while screwing up my meds last month has a part in it, I was always naturally anxious, but I eventually got used to it and learned to live with it. Besides, we often handle things easier at 20 than at 48. Then as my thyroid died off, the anxiety went away. Remember, the thyroid affects everything and not just weight. Now that I’m on thyroid medication I’m “normal” again as far as what’s normal for me goes, and the anxiety is back and I have to learn once again to deal with it. I’m not used to feeling this degree of anxiety, not that I didn’t have my anxious moments when the shit would hit the fan in life before the diagnosis. But it was a different kind of anxiety that was less physical, if that makes any sense.

I woke up feeling a bit antsy but when Tom came home we chatted and I ate, then I felt better and decided to hold off on the chill pill. I hope I stay that way for the rest of the night!

On the bright side, I’ll probably never lose those 20 pounds with all the weekend snacking I love to do, but shouldn’t have to worry about gaining uncontrollably like I once did. Furthermore, Tom will have earned around $300 extra with just 6 hours of OT during the week, plus working Saturday. Back when he was working 10 hours during the week and 8 hours on Saturday, we could’ve lived off just the OT alone.

The extra money will help a lot because while the bulk of the home improvements is done, we still need to finish the painting, redo the kitchen ceiling, get a living room set, get a new garbage disposal, redo the floors and several other things as well. The place could use new toilets, and we still have a house and car to pay off.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 13, 2014 Even though "How is your foot?" is a simple question, it is nice that I can ask it in 5 languages (English, ASL, Spanish, Italian, German) when I am so damn dumb with numbers and other things.

Tom's feet sometimes get swollen. Oh, and the dream premonitions might be back but in a good way. At least I'm hoping that's the case. Back when there was less competition and I was able to win things more often, I would often have dreams of winning right before learning of a win. And I don't mean a little piddly win like a book or CD either. I rarely won what I dreamed of winning, but still, I hope last night's dream of winning a trip to NY (I'd try to get a cash equivalent on that one) is a sign of something good to come. If not a win then maybe a raise for Tom. When he came in I told him about the dream, and he told me that ironically, they asked if he'd be willing to do a job that pays a bit more. They are, however, not in the habit of putting their actions where their mouths are, so we don't want to get our hopes up.

Got a message from Tammy today. Andy wondered if moving to a warm climate would actually worsen her health and I asked her if she thinks that could be the case, but she’s pretty sure it’s not the weather, but all she’s had going on instead. It takes time to get settled, and she couldn’t obtain the oxygen she needs right away. I just wish she and Mark would both quit smoking and get into shape. Being in shape is more important than what the scales and inches say. She does, however, go swimming in the pool and take walks on the beach, so she’s not totally immobile.

After the house closes Mark will be going to Ohio to see his brother who is in his 70s, and his daughter Stephanie with whom he’s had numerous problems. I guess she is both mentally challenged and irresponsible. She says she hasn’t seen either of the girls, Becky rarely calls, but Sarah keeps in touch.

Walmart’s got this really neat thing going on now where if you punch in the number of your receipt online, they’ll pay you the difference of any item that was cheaper in another store. With just one receipt we got $4 in savings, though he wants to wait for it to build up a bit before he gets a gift card, which is what they give you.

Molly really has changed, considering the fact that she no longer visits my blog daily even though she can. More so is the fact that she doesn’t even seem to be contacting Alison, her main obsession, every day anymore. Maybe she’s texting or emailing her, but she’s not contacting her on Ask or Twitter regularly which I know of. I still don’t want to get too close to her, cuz she’s still always going to have a moodiness and neediness about her I could do without.

Later…

When I remember Mary I find it hard to remember the good times and not find myself resentful instead over how she used me and then falsely accused me of creating a blog to bash her with, which she supposedly learned from someone else. That is, without ever having the decency to ask me about it first. I can’t stand people with such severe trust issues that they can’t trust anyone and I mean ANYONE. I’m sorry she was burned so bad so many times by so many people, but people like that are too moody for me. She’d be amazingly compassionate one minute, then high on paranoia the next.

That wasn’t the only thing that caused me to let go of her. She not only can’t admit her faults and apologize for them, but she does nothing but use people. As wrong as it is, this too, I can understand to some degree. She has been a slave to this one or to that one for most of her life. It wasn’t until her 30s that her life finally belonged to her and even then there were still some serious restrictions. Still, while she may have a creative, intelligent and caring side, all she knows is to milk people for whatever she can get from them. She will use one bad boy’s money after another to get what she wants, even if it means putting up with some abuse. She wouldn’t stoop as low as some of her exes – gosh, I hope not anyway – but she is still attracted to what she’s always known and that’s men who will literally pay to abuse her.

She is as addicted to shopping as some people are to food. A new dress may not be worth the bloody lip it used to be worth, but a little slap is probably still worth it. At least last I knew it was from our last communications. The last guy I knew her to be with might not have actually slapped her, but I know she was afraid of him. She told me so in her own words. This was some rich drunk she was using to furnish her apartment and support her after she was fired from her job. Now if it’s a mutual Sugar Daddy agreement of sorts, that’s fine. Nothing wrong with it if both people are happy. But how can material things mean so much more than love, respect, honesty and being treated like a human being to some people??? Perhaps I am wrong to judge or question this, but hey, it’s her life. She has a right to live it as she sees fit and just because her priorities may seem a bit warped to me, I realize they may be very sensible and reasonable to her.

Funny, though, how easy it was to let go of this person I have actually met and spent so much time communicating with than it was to let go of a 6-year cyber friend of mine that I never met. I could let go if I had to, of course, but the thought of it saddens me unless there were ever worse disagreements than there have been. Some things are worth forgiving and working through, as far as I’m concerned, and some things aren’t. Still, it’s funny how some people we can get mad at and dump while others we can get mad at and not dump. Or not dump for very long anyway. I guess it just depends on how far the good exceeds the bad or vice versa.

I don’t hate Mary. Never have, never will. I hope her life is all she wants and dreams it to be. But her absence doesn’t leave me with a sense that something’s missing in my life like those few days the other person wasn’t in it.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 12, 2014 “So many people want to be ‘normal’ and so many want to stand out uniquely. I just want to be me.” ~ Another unknown tweet quoter

Andy told me in a PM that he didn’t want to say this in public for fear of offending anyone but they were sick of hearing about Robin Williams’s suicide when the guy had everything he could ever want. Yeah, I can see where some may perceive that as rather insensitive, LOL, cuz some things just aren’t that simple I’m afraid. Depression is a disease, not about being a rich, spoiled brat. It alters your mind and your way of thinking so that no matter what you may have or not have in life, you’re still depressed and if it’s severe enough you’re not very rational either. Clinical depression is a chemical imbalance of the brain, not a conscious choice.

I don’t think everyone is necessarily insensitive, though, as opposed to uninformed and inexperienced. When it’s something people don’t get or haven’t experienced firsthand, they are quick to appear less than empathetic. I’ve seen the same attitude where my sleep disorder is concerned, and so have others who actually have clinical depression.

I told Tom I wondered why he hadn’t gotten help since he certainly had the money and the resources, but like he said, not everyone can be helped. Even a friend who's suffered through the same thing said one shouldn’t assume he could’ve gotten help, and then Tom reminded me of Steve Jobs. He had all the money and medical help at his fingertips yet cancer still killed him anyway. Not everything is that cut and dry. I used to think hypothyroidism was about weight when in fact it’s about a helluva lot more than just that!

What really pisses me off is how you only hear about black kids being shot by the police, and the usual talk of how oh-so-wonderful God is. Damn, does that get old! I know I shouldn’t let people’s opinions and beliefs get to me and on pretty much any subject in the world I don’t, but the God thing in particular is that one thing that really gets under my skin. Again, I know I shouldn’t take it personally, but I can’t help but take offense to hearing the very being praised that I believe sat back and allowed a lot of misery into my life. That is unless Tom’s theory is the correct one. He thinks there probably is a God but that it doesn’t play a role in our day-to-day lives. He believes the events of our lives are simply random. He said that if everyone’s life were the same, then he’d say he could see a pattern that suggested something was controlling it to be that way. But because no one’s the same, he thinks it’s all just dumb luck.

Whatever the correct theory is, I’m just sick of hearing about God. God, God, God! I don’t know why it bothers me so much, but I think we all have our pet peeves we don’t quite understand and that we can’t just chuck aside that easily. But I know that no matter how many times I tell people, hey that’s YOUR fantasy, belief, or whatever you want to call it, people are gonna do whatever they’re gonna do, so I just try to ignore it whenever possible. Still, it really gets to me at times. Like praising a woman’s rapist, you know? Imagine how she’d feel.

I didn’t read the article, so I can’t say if the black shooting victim was provoked or if it was a matter of police brutality. That’s not the point. What bothers me is knowing that if this kid was white it would never have made the news. These days when a white kid gets shot, no matter how undeserved and unprovoked it may be, no one gives a shit. They only give a shit when they’re black. As I’ve said a million times before, two wrongs don’t make a right. Favoring blacks isn’t any more ok or correct than it is to favor whites and I don’t care how not so politically correct I may sound. As usual, though, the vast majority will side with the blacks whether they’re innocent or not.

Later…

I currently have 21 finished stories and 6 unfinished, one of which I’m working on now. Just thought I’d share that interesting piece of news. :)

Andy shared some pics of his place with me the other day, which both Tom and I saw, and I must admit I was rather impressed. I thought the place would be a mess, but it wasn’t. It’s nicely decorated, and while the colors may not be me, they are definitely stylish and go well together. If you can stand that climate and to be attached to others, he’s got a great deal that would be very hard to find elsewhere.

It was only 87° today so the pool was a touch chilly. It was great for tanning, though I don’t seem to be getting any darker. Oh well. At least I’m not burning.

Rode my bike 10 times around the circle last night, which equals 2 miles. My heart rate was 120 when I got back, which is reasonable with no steep hills in that area. The weather was gorgeous, too. A bit warm for bike riding, but windy and beautiful. That mutt barked at me twice as I went by, and I thought I got a flat when I heard a loud pop, but I didn’t. The drone of freeway traffic was a bit loud but soothing.

Before taking off I felt slightly apprehensive (at the thought of how I’d feel riding alone?) but once I made a few rounds and saw that I was still feeling just fine, the feeling diminished.

Anyway, I finally got paid for my last round and jobs and ordered those stickers. Then sure enough, not even a half-hour later, more payments came in. So now I have a bit of a head start for my next goodie goal, an erotic figurine.

Decided to pass on the toe ring for now. Yes, I’m addicted to the things and can’t seem to get enough of them, but the two I currently have are enough for now. Besides, I couldn’t make up my mind just which ones I wanted and with my skinny little toes, getting one that actually fits without having to overlap the ends, can be a bit tough. 6mm seems to be a common size, but I need 5mm and even that’s slightly big.

Anyway, life is good except for loud traffic waking me up in back twice today. I don’t know why it sometimes wakes me up while other times it doesn’t. I made adjustments to the sound machine and we’ll see if that helps. That is the ONE thing I would change about this place if I could is to get rid of that street running by the bedroom! The sound machines drown out landscapers and every other sound you might hear around here, but those super loud vehicles like UPS trucks. What’s with the rise in loud vehicles anyway? Even Virginia pointed that out. You hear something that sounds like a semi or a giant RV coming down the street, but then you look out to find it’s just a pickup.

Later…

Not that agreeing with me is mandatory or anything, but I'm amazed how many agreed on my last entry pertaining to the subject of God that everyone seems to love to discuss. I totally agree with the one who said they're learning that God is the worst thing to ever happen to humanity. In many ways, this is very true when you think about it. Look what "God's" done to the twisted minds of Muslims. Maybe they'd find some other reason to slaughter people if no one had decided a God exists, but maybe not.

Also, look how many people hate gays because "God" supposedly hates them, too. I not only think this is bullshit since if there is a God I don't see why it would allow for any groups of people it hated, but I do think God can hate certain individuals. He's made that obvious enough to me since the day I was born to the wrong woman. There are worse mothers to have, but mine was bad enough.

I think people can also become delusional in the name of God. If I'm supposedly fair game to the devil for hating God, then why have the last few years been wonderful with the exception of a few rough spots we all have to deal with in life? Why do I have a guy like Tom? And how can there be atheists like Nane who are mostly happy and God-lovers like Tammy who are mostly miserable?

Furthermore, it irritates me when people give Him credit He doesn't deserve, like when they try to tell me shit like how blessed I am for the languages He's "given" me. Sorry folks, but I gave myself those languages by studying hard. Oh, something up there may've set my brain to pick them up easier than most people, but I'M the one that studied and I'M the one that learned them, thank you. Give credit where it's due and keep in mind all that HUMANS do! You know, those things that walk on two legs? We really are responsible for much of the good that comes our way and it often has nothing to do with anything inhuman.

Ok, enough God-talk for what will hopefully be a long, long time, LOL. As I’ve always said, we all can’t help believe what we believe any more than who we’re attracted to, but it would be nice to hear about a bigger variety of things, even if they’re as mundane as the weather.

Another airplane-loud truck went by checking out our bulk trash pile but decided nope. They don’t want those old bulky stools. We’ve also got some boxes of trash out there like the rest of the old curtains, and the wooden platform the dishwasher came in.

MONDAY, AUGUST 11, 2014 Not much to say today. Tom’s doing some coding now and I’m just doing my usual thing. Last night I felt a lot better emotionally than I did the night before.

Right now I’m waiting for the people I’ve done jobs for to hurry up and pay me so I can do some shopping. They don’t usually take this long. I’m going to grab those stickers I want to place above the bed.

I did a prescreening survey for a clinical trial study they’re doing in my area for those taking statin drugs. They pay well, but the problem is I’ve worried enough about side effects to last me a lifetime, and with my anxiety and all that I’m not sure, as Tom agrees, that participating in this study would be such a good idea. I’ve had almost no anxiety this last week as I get further away from the incident that triggered it in the first place, but why take chances of stirring it up? It was nice, though, to make a few bucks just for a few minutes of prescreening questions, but we’re not desperate for extra money right now.

Once it’s cool enough around 9pm or so I’ll go for a quick bike ride. Just around the block a few times, though. I’m not going to go around the park. Not after dark.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 10, 2014 “Growing old is mandatory. Growing up is optional.” ~ Unknown

Last night I dreamed we were living in Florida near my sister and her daughters. I guess we owned a house there and were going to consider selling it and moving into an apartment next to her. I also guess that I thought I’d be ok living attached to someone that I at least knew, and there was to be no one on the other side of us or above and below us.

My mother was still alive because I was thinking of her being 30 miles away and wondering why she didn’t want to move to be closer to us.

Tom had a week of vacation when it was agreed we’d stay at the apartment with the girls during that week and do various things during the daytime. I don’t know why everybody stayed there, LOL, but Tammy had 3 couches in her living room and one just outside of it alongside the kitchen counter. I slept on that couch while Tom, Sarah and Becky slept on couches in the living room, all on different walls. I could only see Tom from my couch, but not the girls. Off the kitchen were a dining area and a hallway leading to the two bedrooms and a bathroom. Tammy slept in her bedroom, as usual.

I was frustrated because I lay there all night unable to sleep. When I finally did sleep, one of the girls noisily got up to use the bathroom and left the hallway light on, which woke me up, then Tammy woke me up when she came out into the kitchen. Exhausted, I asked if I could go sleep in the spare bedroom.

“And piss everybody off?” she asked.

I glanced at Sarah who’d just glanced from Becky back to me, realizing that it would be unfair if I got the comfy bed while everyone else (who didn’t live there) was stuck on couches.

In an instant the scene “split.” It was like I was interrupted by me checking in at home. I wanted to check my email for any important messages cuz we didn’t have our smartphones with us.

Next thing I know it’s getting dark and starting to rain. I realized I was barefoot but ran back to Tammy's that way; barefoot and in a sundress. I was running alongside a wooded area and wondered if anyone would stop to offer me a ride. A motorcycle pulled into a narrow drive in the woods in front of me, but no one stopped.

After running for about 10 minutes I was back in the “scene” with everybody on their assigned couches and Tammy in the kitchen. Only Tammy had turned into my mother who was now in tears at the thought of losing us when I asked her if we could sleep at home but be back bright and early each morning to partake in the activities we planned for the week. I had to assure my mother we were just a few minutes away. “I ran it, after all, mom.”

Later…

Yesterday Tom trimmed our too many bushes and blew leaves out of the carport. It took a long time and if anyone around us wanted peace and quiet, they certainly didn’t get it for a while. But today, neither are we. Someone’s been sawing and hammering on and off and it does get annoying. Especially on a Sunday when things are usually the quietest.

Since Romeo’s proven he can behave by not shoving bedding out of the cage like he used to do, we once again put them in the bigger cage. They seem to prefer that cage as it’s not only more spacious but they have ramps they can climb to get to the higher levels. Hoodie can scale the walls, but Romeo's gotten too old and too fat, and Sugar’s disabled. Hopefully, Romeo will continue to behave. This cage is a bit harder to clean, but it looks nicer.

Yesterday evening a wave of anxiety swept over me. I was like, oh no. Just oh fucking no. But fortunately, it passed in less than a minute. It was the same shit – I started to feel dizzy and my heart started to race and pound. It’s a truly miserable feeling. I was totally dismayed to experience even just seconds of this shit. It felt like a bit of a setback to me and I later felt a bit depressed. Just knowing that these things can creep up on me anytime, anywhere, for any reason, is a really sucky thing to have hanging over me. But I know I have to learn to live with the damn things just like I’ve had to learn to live with other shit.

Tom still feels I’ll get over this phase just as I have other things in life. Will I ever get over the what-ifs that still creep up on me at times? Feeling depressed or anxious can lead to some really nasty thoughts for me. Again every possible, horrible, miserable, scary, depressing what-if went through my mind last night and I just couldn’t turn them off.

I didn’t know this (or maybe I did but forgot), but Tom has life insurance through his job and I could live alone for years if anything happened to him, although I can’t imagine ever wanting to. I honestly don’t see how I lived alone all those years before we met to begin with. It was tough, all right. Tom cheered me up in no time today, but when I was alone I didn’t have anybody to pull me up when I’d start to sink down in a pit of sorrow. Most people are happy to be a part of your life when you’re up, but you know how selfish and cruel they can be when you’re sad, scared or ill. They just can’t deal with it and will often blame the person who’s down and that only makes them feel worse being kicked down when they’re already down.

Again my mind got stuck on imagining if I were suddenly told I had a terminal disease, what it may be like to die, and what kind of afterlife may await me, if there is such a thing. Tom pointed out that dying gets “easier” as medicine advances. Even with something as deadly and as horrible as the Ebola virus, they still expect to have a vaccine for it within a year. Still, it would be nice if all states treated dying people as well as they do dogs, instead of just Oregon and Washington. I mean I see Tom’s point, and I’m sure things will be even better 30 years from now, but it’s still something that’s playing on my mind too much, and the possibility of what, if anything, may lay beyond. Sometimes I feel like my life has become nothing but pills and fears of dying and death. I’m trying to change my outlook on things, but some changes take time.

I asked if he thought the fact that I can’t be alone like I used to be meant I’ve grown weaker with time, but he doesn’t think so as opposed to just being different. He reminded me that people’s needs do change over the years, and well, I’m not in my 20s anymore. At the same time, he feels I could survive on my own if I absolutely had to, though it may take me time to adapt. Even if that were true, I can’t imagine wanting to. Live without the only guy who’s ever totally accepted and loved me without complaint, control or pushing me to be somebody I’m not? Who loves me when I’m up AND when I’m down and who always felt my absolute best was good enough, and even my almost best was good enough, too?

And then I imagined the unimaginable some more and wondered if I’d ever be “trapped” between life and death if he were to go first. What if I didn’t have the guts to end it all for fear of botching it or something, but knew I couldn’t go on living either?

Yes, I know this is a depressing entry. I’m sorry even though I’m not, since this is, after all, my journal. Still, I’ll tweet the link but won’t share it on Facebook. I don’t want too many others to drown in my sea of what-ifs along with me if I can help it, but on a positive note, I do feel much better at the moment. :) Both writing and having a loving husband are rather therapeutic. No crush could replace this guy, that’s for sure, and yes, I fully admit I’m still drooling over that hot judge, haha.

Damn, was she glamorous and gorgeous! What wasn’t to like? Her makeup job was perfect, I loved her hair and the way its style suited her so well, full lips, eyes of chocolate, and perfect skin tone. Not too dark, not too light. I didn’t realize she was black at first. I thought she was Hispanic till the camera zoomed in on her and I heard her speak. She may be a little top-heavy body-wise, but I don’t care, LOL.

Later…

Another thing that had me depressed was my bike. I used to love to go out riding day or night, with or without Tom, and I hadn’t one single fear. But now I can’t even enjoy that much in the way that I used to for fear of an anxiety attack hitting me when my heart is already elevated. Tom thinks that the more I go out there and see nothing bad happens, the more confidence I’ll have. Hope he’s right!

I almost considered canceling my dentist appointment, not wanting to be hit with one of those things while they were working on me, though my next appointment is just a check-up and a cleaning job.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 9, 2014 Went for a bike ride and came back with a heart rate of 133. Tom's was only 104 cuz his resting heart rate is lower.

Tom read an interesting health and fitness article where they did a study to see if running was really more beneficial than walking. They did find that getting your heart elevated more by running was not only more beneficial but that all it took was 5 minutes a day. In other words, you get the same benefits at just 5 minutes a day as you would an hour. I always knew that more was not better, but I didn’t know just 5 minutes was enough. I thought 20-30 was more like it.

Anyway, I decided I’d ride the park’s perimeters (this takes 15 minutes) when I’m on days and around the circle 5 times (this takes 10 minutes) when I’m on nights. Even though I seem to be over my anxiety and it was indeed connected to the OD, I don’t want to risk being startled by a skunk or a possum darting out at me at night and it spawning an anxiety attack, which could escalate into a panic attack, while I was on the other side of the park.

I was so pissed yesterday. They wait till I pay $130 + $20 in shipping for Rachel just to lower her to $106, prime eligible. :( But that’s how things usually work for me; never get any breaks in life. Maybe I’ll nab the other two I like that are also now on sale. I just hate it when the requestors take forever to pay up. I want to get some glitter tea rose stickers for above the bed. I’ve made the money for them but haven’t received it yet. I need just a few more bucks in my account.

Not sure if I mentioned this yet or not, but I found Twitter to look better than it ever has before with the new Facebook-like layout and so I rejoined. I’m mostly using it to post pictures and blog links. There are a few random thoughts I’ll throw in, but it’s all pretty much stuff I include in journal entries.

I had a dream I accidentally sent Andy and a couple of others the story I’m working on now instead of journals and Andy, who hates to read books, said it was awesome so far, LOL.

I’m so glad I’m not next door to Andy! His mom and others are visiting right now.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 8, 2014 This morning I pulled out an old half-shirt from my drawer that I had since the 90s. It's tie-dye with spaghetti straps and I said to myself, "This little old shirt is never going to fit me." But it does! EASILY. I'm glad too, cuz it's always been one of my faves and is oh so comfortable. Amazingly, it doesn't look faded or frayed at all for its age.

Enjoying another day free of anxiety. I’d say I’ve finally kicked this thing and have recovered. It feels so damn good, too!

Not much else to say right now. I’m just finishing up the week’s household chores like laundry and running a load of dishes. Then it’s on to my online work/fun.

For dreams, I remember one negative one, one positive one, and one that was pretty neutral. I liked the one where I was sitting (outdoors at a picnic table?) happily chatting with my sexy doctor, but not the one where I was at a heart specialist and said, “My heart’s beating hard right now” and the doctor told me it was only beating 57 BPM.

You know, I’d have told you in the past my least favorite body part was the uterus. But after all the shit I’ve been through in the last month, I’d say it’s definitely the heart.

In the last one, I was sitting on a plane next to a woman and her teenage daughter. The woman was accusing her daughter of stealing cigars when she wasn’t looking.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 7, 2014 After taking a week to get back to me, even though she could’ve done so sooner, I heard from Nane. Unlike Tammy and Andy, who describe Rachel as being “gross” and “scary,” Nane likes her. I’m proud of myself, though, for not getting back to her right away. I probably won’t wait a whole week, but still, no more getting back to her ASAP while she takes her sweet time with me. If I’m not important to her, she’s not important to me.

The pussy cream the doctor gave me has eased a lot of the burning and itching.

Feeling the absolute best and most like my old self since last month! I don’t even have a hint of anxiety and I even rode my bike a mile. :)

Last night I felt a little restless as I was waiting to fall asleep but was determined not to take a chill pill. Besides, as I reminded myself, it wouldn’t knock me out. They didn’t knock me out during the daytime, so they certainly wouldn’t knock me out at night.

“Things take time to get over,” Tom told me, assuring me the anxiety would one day be a thing of the past.

As I lay there, I realized I was aware of my heart racing and got up to check it. It was at 107. As I stood there with my finger in the monitor, I watched it drop into the 90s, got back into bed, and felt fine. Eventually, I drifted off, hoping I’d sleep forever since I wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of dealing with whatever tomorrow may bring.

But I slept my usual 8 hours and woke up fine. No racy heart, no nothing. By then it was after 6am and Tom had left for work. I even had a positive money dream for once, but don’t remember the details. It seemed to have to do with something we were selling that would be an ongoing thing. Not sure if I said this in the form of a question or a fact, but I said something to Tom about being anywhere from very comfortable to rich, and he agreed in a very matter-of-fact way.

A couple of hours later came the big question – should I go out on my bike, should I go out walking, or should I stay inside on the boring treadmill? I had to do something because I didn’t want to fall out of shape, so deciding I couldn’t stay afraid of exercise and riding forever, I took the bike out. My heart rate elevated only in the good way that it’s supposed to when you work out. I don’t like to do just cardio, I like to strength train too, so later or tomorrow some arm and ab work is in order. Being fit is more important to me than whether or not the numbers on the scale and the inches around my waist go down or not.

My only complaint now is a slight ache in my chest that didn’t last long. But now I have a stronger ache on the same side only it’s in back where my left shoulder blade is. I took an ibuprofen, so if it’s the pulled muscle I suspect it is, it will go away soon.

Next door has already been out twice and the last time I heard them loading stuff up in the SUV. They’re not done yet since the thing isn’t parked in the garage. Wish they would slow down!

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 6, 2014 Took my meds at 5am and was hoping to be chill pill-free from here on out, but I felt a little restless on and off till 9am. Before that I went out on my bike but only made one round around the block, not wanting to get my heart going too much. First I had a levothyroxine block to get over, and now I’ve got an exercising block to get over. Elevating my heart reminds me of what happened and I always wonder if part of it is anxiety or all from working out. I’m just afraid of hitting insane heart rates like 161.

According to a chart, however, it says that my max heart rate for my age is actually 175 and my target heart rate when working out can be up to 145. Well, I better get back into the swing of things because while diet makes me lose weight, exercising keeps it off. If I slack off too much I will go back to gaining.

Tired of feeling anxious on and off I took a chill pill. I’m a little disappointed in myself, but at least I went longer this time. I just hope it really is masking anxiety and not side effects. No one else seems to think it could be side effects, so I gotta just trust them.

If I can’t go all day tomorrow without the chill pill, I’ll at least try to go longer. Over the weekend when Tom’s here I would be really surprised – and dismayed – if I needed it. Like I said, if I end up going through this bottle, then I probably need something full-time. Still hoping I won’t, though. Tom doesn’t think I will, but we’ll see.

Not really impressed with my new toe ring, but it’s better than nothing.

I de-cluttered the bookcase by mostly weeding out many of the collectible Barbies. That way there’s less to have to dust.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 5, 2014 Had a sad dream last night where for some reason I wasn’t able to live with Tom. I’d only known him 15 years, though, not 21. I don’t know who I was living with, but every time he would come and visit me I found it very hard not to beg him to take me with him.

Then there was another dream where I was walking my bike, which was having problems. I stooped to try to fix it when I overheard a woman’s voice through an open doorway. Although I could hear her clearly, I don’t remember what she said. I just wanted to hurry up and fix the bike so she wouldn’t spot me and think I was eavesdropping.

I felt wonderful yesterday and so far today, too. Just a little shaky my first hour and then I was fine. Thinking I might skip the lorazepam tomorrow. As I always try to, I’m making a point of focusing on positive, happy things and thoughts as others have suggested to me and as I naturally try to do anyway. Sometimes bad things get in our faces and there’s no avoiding them, but when the choice is mine I choose positive over negative.

We’re having another cool, cloudy day where it looks like it may rain but never does. At least not yet anyway. Very unusual for August. Wanting to get out and get some fresh air, I went out and pulled my bike out. I miss riding regularly. I’m just hesitant to do so till I make sure the anxiety attacks aren’t going to return. Each day that they don’t, I feel a little more confident. But confidence takes time, so I thought that rather than do a 2-mile round around the park, I’d just make 5 rounds around the circle which would be a mile. But after just one round, Virginia was heading toward me.

Not surprisingly, she was curious about why the paramedics were out last month and I told her I accidentally took too much of the levothyroxine I was given for hypothyroidism. I had to laugh when she said that now she could tell everybody what happened. When you live in a retirement community, people tend to know those around them and feel a sense of concern and curiosity not often found in regular neighborhoods.

Anyway, it turns out she’s on the exact same meds. Also, she was given the same thing for anxiety and both she and Bob take statin medication.

She kept saying I look great and that it’s her fault that she never loses weight because she loves to eat. Me too, though as long as I’m not in the obese range I’m not worried about it. I wasn’t going to tell her that, though, cuz she clearly is obese.

She asked again if we could hear them and what my schedule was and what I did and all that and I told her that I don’t really have a schedule. I also told her all I hear are car doors and landscaping but nothing else. Told her I write and do artificial intelligence work online as well.

I asked her if she noticed more loud car stereos and she said not so much as vehicles that are loud themselves. Yeah, there does seem to be a lot of loud pickups and even some cars. I’m still amazed at just how much traffic goes through this park.

I asked about the first people in here before the last couple and she said it was a woman named Fay who lived alone but was very active. Alone in a house this big?! A 1-bed, 1-bath would be just fine for me if I were alone, but just like some people who have had kids say they can’t imagine life without them, I can’t imagine ever going back to living alone like I did for about 9 years prior to meeting Tom no matter what the size of the place may be. Anyway, Fay moved to another state and died in her 90s. “No one that lives in your house dies young,” she told me, LOL.

They’re from Minnesota and I told her we sometimes think of hitting Florida when he retires, but don’t know if we really will or not. So much can happen in the next 13 years.

When I told her I was originally from Massachusetts and that Tom was originally from Arizona, which was where we met, and how we spent a few years in Oregon before coming to Cali, she said she thought my accent sounded northeastern. Yeah, I guess that no matter how many years I live in the West I’ll always sound like a “Masshole.”

Her SIL’s from England and we got on the topic of accents and languages. I threw a few lines at her in Spanish, Italian and German and she agreed it must come in handy to know. It does. Plus it’s fun. Learning languages is hard but has always been like a game to me as well, and I play it well, too.

I was complaining to Tom that the levothyroxine makes my periods heavier, but as he reminded me, they make them normal. Three days is normal for a woman, not those late periods I would get that would flow heavy for just 5 hours and then spot off to nothing in a day. I thought it was menopause setting in even though I’m still kinda young.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Someone anonymously asked this on Ask and I swear I’ve been asked this before. I smell Mrs. M in this one. It’s the first name to pop into mind anyway.

Then someone, who appears to have asked Aly questions as well, was asking me about blogging and if I made a decision as to where I’m going to blog and all that. Kim?

I asked Aly if she thought some of the poorly worded questions we’ve both gotten could’ve come from Kim, and she wasn’t sure. She says Kim claims Ask doesn’t work for her but isn’t sure what to believe and knows she has to tread lightly where Kim is concerned. Kim is such a people pleaser that she can’t tell facts from lies when she talks to her. We both agree Molly is the lesser of the two evils. Molly may follow and sometimes contact you, but she isn’t the vicious stalker Kim can be, and Molly is always Molly. But even Molly needs some restraints of caution, as Aly admits. She’s changed, yes, but she can still get a bit clingy and demanding.

Aly was thrilled to get my email. I admit I do miss our chats and speculating what the trolls are up to. She has too much good to just throw away forever. I think she’s just a little confused as to what she wants and what’s best for her and can be very softhearted and forgiving. She swears she never tried to sabotage my friendship with Adonis or hack into any accounts. She also says she didn’t mean anything malicious in not being forthright about the trolls and can totally understand why I felt the way I did. She said she never had Molly added while we were friends on Facebook. Kim, yes, but she had me blocked since she always loves to play the victim when it comes to those she’s harassed.

Andy still drives me nuts at times with the same old, same old shit. God. Food. Celebrities. It’s like that’s all his life is about; his delusions about God, his beloved food, and the celebrities he worships so damn much. Really hope he can leave these things at home when he comes to visit.

Tammy's doing better but is tired. Mark’s lonely up in CT waiting for the house to close and the girls haven’t even seen her since they moved down to FL. They just got jobs, so I guess they’re preoccupied with that. Plus, I notice that typical selfishness in them that we all experience in our 20s where we don’t really appreciate our family much. Oh, they appreciate the hell out of each other and I’m sure they see each other all the time. But when it comes to parents (other than their abusive dad) and aunts, they really don’t care much. I’ve noticed long ago that I hear way more from people in other countries that I’ve never met than I ever will from my nieces. In some ways, this is a good thing, though, cuz then I might have to hear all about the prick that will hopefully croak of its cancer soon.

Becky and Sarah are strange. It’s like they’re more than sisters. It’s like they’re soul mates. Probably due to their looks, they only have each other. I just can’t imagine either of them ever dating, especially Becky.

MONDAY, AUGUST 4, 2014 Not sure I’m looking forward to being left alone all week as the last of the anxiety fades away for what will hopefully be forever. Just one minute of that awful feeling is like an hour and I don’t ever want to feel it again! Gonna chill pill it when Tom leaves for the next few days just to be on the safe side and give me that extra boost of confidence. I’m hoping that by the end of the week, I will feel strong enough to go without that.

Woke up several times during the night and once I considered chill-pilling myself back to sleep, but instead I just waited patiently for my body to fall back asleep on its own. Again, I don’t want to get addicted to the stuff.

My goal will be to keep busy as much as possible. The lorazepam may make me drowsy, so I may have to take it easy here and there. I’m going to mostly do some cleaning, ab exercises, and then my usual online stuff.

Later…

The day’s going great so far. A little shaky the first hour or so, but I’ve been fine ever since. The question is, am I fine because of the chill pill, or would I be ok either way? Tom thinks I would be and I hope he’s right. In another day or two, I’ll skip the chiller. Stuff still makes me drowsy, but it didn’t knock me out. It just made me take longer to clean the section of the house I cleaned today. I do it in 4 sections in 4 days rather than all at once. It’s easier that way, especially since it’s so big. Hell, just dusting the 8 living room/dining room window blinds takes time.

It definitely does look like the doctors do know what they’re doing after all, LOL, and that it was anxiety brought on by the double dose of levothyroxine and not the levothyroxine itself.

Anyway, I just hope that whatever landscaping or home improvement jobs that are on for today will be my only annoyances. If it weren’t for the drowsiness they cause, I could really get used to these chill pills and can clearly see how addicting they could become. I expect, however, to make a full recovery by the end of the week and be free of the chill pills altogether. I just hope I never ever again experience such God-awful anxiety ever again in my life. It was truly torturous and horrible in every sense of the word. I’d rather killer period cramps. They hurt, but at least they’re not terrifying. But when your heart races up a storm, you can’t breathe, you feel dizzy and this strange sensation rushes through your head and down your shoulders and arms… I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. Well, second-worst enemy. :)

Can't believe it took next door till 10:30 to make their first trip out. I’m sure she’ll park in the driveway when she returns and that it’s not her/their only trip out today.

I also can’t believe it’s August! It’s so cloudy and chilly in here. It’s going to be hours till the AC kicks on, but it will come on since we are on for 88° today.

We moved the rats into the ferret cage because it’s so much easier to clean, and Romeo was kind enough not to make the mess he used to make by pushing bedding out all over the floor.

I tweeted to Aly and asked her a question on Ask. She answered the question. I “liked” one of Molly’s answers and she apologized for past problems she’s caused me and said she wanted to be friends and prove she’s a changed person.

I never thought I’d say this but I do believe Molly has changed to some degree. I can tell this just by how less often she visits my blog. But there’s still a clinginess about her that makes me not want to get too close. I’ll answer a few questions here and there on Ask, but that’s about it. Besides, she’s not very bright and she still has severe mood swings. She asked what made me want to hurt myself and I had to explain that the OD was accidental.

I had sexual dreams and a couple of dreams that my endo doc was in, and what is it with schools lately in my dreams?

I don’t really remember the sexual dreams very well, but it seems that when I have them I’m performing solo and not with someone else. A sign that I’m on my own? Even if I was suddenly horny as hell, that doesn’t mean Tom would be, too.

The first one Maruja, as I’ll call my endo, was in a college. It turns out that she was teaching a course there. I’m not sure what it was or if she knew me, but she seemed to have a thing for me. In a good way, that is.

In another dream, we were a definite pair. We were over someone’s house that was having a party or some kind of get-together. We had a baby with us. It seemed to be ours, though I don’t know if I was younger in the dream and I was the one that had it, or if we adopted it. Maruja got pissed as hell at me at one point and practically dragged me out of the place. Others were worried she would harm me and I said, “Don’t worry. She won’t. She’ll just yell at me a while.”

Once we got home, some people at the party we left called the house to be sure I was ok.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 3, 2014 My 32” Jade doll has worn the same shoes since 1999 and they have become discolored. So now she has new shoes! They’re size 3-6 months and are sneakers of a soft cloth-like material as opposed to canvas. They’re pinkish orange with silver glitter and blue hearts. The laces are ribbons instead of traditional shoelaces.

My 24” Hillary doll that I got from Goodwill also had old, discolored shoes and she’s now wearing silver glitter shoes in size 0-3 months.

Jasmine got a new outfit since I never really cared for her original one. It’s just a pink swimsuit with matching flip-flops.

While I am beyond grateful as hell to Tom for his patience and support in dealing with these health issues, and while I appreciate that I’m his number one and how he’d quit his job to take care of me until the funds got so low that he had to get another one, I still feel bad. Ever feel bad/guilty about something you know you shouldn’t and that isn’t your fault, but you still feel bad anyway? Sort of like accidentally dropping a heavy book on someone’s foot. You didn’t mean it and they know you didn’t mean it, but you still feel bad anyway. Well, it’s like that. I feel bad that I have had to hog so much of his time and attention and that I’ve been costing us a fortune (we owe a couple hundred for the biopsy), but I know he is the one person who truly, TRULY loves me for he has NEVER complained.

I felt ok for the most part yesterday but got drowsier than expected when I took a chill pill a half-hour after taking the levothyroxine. I also had a few semi-anxious moments when I became a bit breathy, but nothing major. Today I’ve gone chill pill-free, but may chill when Tom leaves for work tomorrow just to be on the safe side. I had felt slightly off a few times earlier, but again, nothing major. I even dyed my hair. You can see how thin it is now in front due to the meds, but I’m not bald, so I can’t complain too much. The loss of my tan and hair is pretty trivial right now as opposed to how I feel.

Since it’s been about a week since that scare of a heartbeat of 161 when an attack hit me while bike riding, Tom went with me this morning (exercise is always good for him anyway) and we went for a short ride just to see how I’d do. He reminded me to feel free to stop if I needed to. I stopped at the crest of the hill just to make sure my heart would slow down when it was supposed to. When it did, we coasted down the hill (the part of my route I find most fun), looped around the lake and headed back uphill. My heart was booming like it was supposed to at about 130 and not an insane 161, so that was good. I have felt great ever since! I just hope I continue to feel this way. Each day that goes by that I feel good will gain my confidence back. How I still wish I could wind the calendar back to the 9th and undo the accidental double dose! That’s no doubt what’s caused these waves of anxiety.

Later we’re going to put the rats in another cage that’s much easier to clean. Only problem is that since Hoodie didn’t get that big, the little devil may escape. Even Sugar’s not that big, but he’s disabled. Romeo’s huge, though, so he won’t escape, but he may push the bedding out all over the place. I don’t know why he does that, but we’ll see.

Had two disturbing and one cool dream last night. In the first disturbing one, I said something like “Are you worried things will get worse?” to Tom and he nodded. The house we were in didn’t look like ours and it couldn’t have been in an adult community because tons of screaming kids could be heard outside.

Then in another dream, I was going to this school of some kind, though I don’t know what for. When the alarm went off, Tom was already at work and I realized I hadn’t slept a wink. I had no energy whatsoever to go to school. So I called and told him I needed to catch up on my sleep and he wanted to come home. I assured him I was fine, just tired. I didn’t want him to risk his job by leaving work.

The cool dream was speaking both Spanish and German. I was telling Nane in German that the buildings we were walking by weren’t old, and then I was speaking in Spanish to some guy at an intersection I was waiting to cross on foot. He was on his bike and was speaking Spanish to himself. He told me in Spanish that he likes to speak his thoughts aloud in Spanish as a means of practicing and I said I liked to do the same thing at times, also in Spanish.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 2, 2014 Yesterday turned out to be anxiety-free, for the most part. I felt the most like my old self since this shit began on the 9th.

I am determined as hell to have another anxiety-free day, even though it’s back to my thyroid and cholesterol meds today. In a few hours, it is, when my stomach’s had a chance to empty out. That’s when I’ll take my levothyroxine. I’ll take the other pill at the end of my day. I’m still going to chill pill it a half-hour after taking the levothyroxine for about a week or so until I can see that I’m ok and no harm has come to me. I chill-pilled as Tom was leaving for work yesterday and it didn’t knock me out or anything like that. 0.5 is a very low dose when it comes to lorazepam.

When I take that pill Tom and I both will remind me that it can’t hurt me, it was only in my mind thanks to scaring the shit out of myself when I accidentally double-dosed, there’s no evil God out to get me, it’s a supplement and not a medication, just like he and a follower whose input I really appreciate said. She has reminded me of this fact as well as being more careful about names. Oh, I’ve always changed or dropped last names, but she got me to realize that if I’m Googled, certain people might know whom I’m talking about even without last names. While it may be true that people should think before wronging others if they don’t want it mentioned anywhere, I don’t want to deliberately offend people. I write to express my life, my feelings, and my experiences, after all. Not to piss people off.

Going to Walmart in a few hours and I guess that’s it for now.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 1, 2014 The blood has been drawn and the verdict is in. My TSH levels are high at 16 which is probably my fault thanks to the meds putting such a fear complex on me that I had coffee too soon after taking the stuff the last two days. This blocks absorption. So now my pituitary gland is back to shouting these useless commands to my thyroid.

So it wasn’t the pill, but it was. The OD put such a serious mental block on me so that even though side effects are rare and no one’s ever died from the stuff, it’s triggering these horrible anxiety attacks I thought were sudden killer side effects. The only time you should be jittery from the meds themselves is if you’re taking too much and therefore thrown into the hyperthyroid range.

To back up a bit, Tom went to work yesterday morning and I set about doing some household work like laundry and running the dishes through the dishwasher. I thought I’d be just fine, but OMFG! It was terrible. So terrible and so scary I had him come home. My heart raced like crazy, I felt dizzy, I couldn’t breathe. It was like I was suffocating even though our little finger monitor said I was at my usual 99% oxygen level. Still, it was just so, so awful! I felt like I was going to die.

We went to the lab at 9:00 and I got the blood drawn by the same Asian lady that left me bruised last time. She did a good job this time. I have tiny veins, so it wasn’t her fault. My veins are child-size, LOL.

We then got a bite to eat at Carl’s Jr. and came home. I was surprisingly tired and probably depressed too, not just from all that was going on, but PMS as well. I slept from 10am – 4pm. When I got up at that time I not only found my erotic wall statue had arrived (she’s lovely) but my blood work results were also posted online.

We talked about it and as Tom said, I’ve got this thing in my head that has convinced me the meds are bad, the meds are bad, the meds are bad… The mind, unfortunately, can be a powerful thing.

“But I don’t believe I’m tall,” I told Tom.

“No, but you believe you’re fat.”

LOL, I think everyone does whether it’s true or not. Either way, I’ve stopped taking the levothyroxine and I think the only way to fully get over my anxiety is a change in meds. There are half a dozen or so thyroid medications and people do often make changes. Given the blood work results and what my PCP doc said as well as what my endo doc may have to say, I could probably continue the levothyroxine and gradually get over my anxiety trips, but I’d rather not.

Tom even inspected the stamp on the pill and checked online to be sure they were indeed the correct dose. Lucky for them too, or I’d sue the shit out of the pharmaceutical and move to Maui.

Still tired, I went back to sleep from something like 5pm – 10pm. I have “coincidentally” felt very much like my old self since being up and skipping the levothyroxine. Funny, ain’t it? rolls eyes sarcastically

I may chill pill it when Tom leaves just to be on the safe side. On the meds or not, these things can sneak up on you at any time, and when they do they attack with a vengeance. It’s a horrible, horrible experience to go through.

Meanwhile, I have a nice silver toe ring on the way with black footprints which I’ve purchased with my online earnings.

I was going to help the guy who owns Kiwibox with weeding out spammers, but I’m not sure I’m up to the task right now. I need to get my life back on track before I focus on other things. Why oh why did my thyroid have to fail in the first place?!

Later…

So I guess I’m not changing meds after all. The doc, who knows what’s been going on with me, recommends I stick with the same stuff. She said the alternative to levothyroxine would be the so-called "natural hormone" which is thyroid hormones from pork thyroid glands, dried and powdered for treatment that in general, it is more difficult to adjust the dose of thyroid medication. Then she said to come and see her if I want to discuss changing meds further.

Well, I sure as hell aren’t about to take that pill till Tom’s home tomorrow. Then a half-hour after it’s had time to absorb I’ll be chill-pilling it till I can see that I can take it without issue for a while and that yes, it was just anxiety triggered by accidentally double-dosing myself and not side effects I was experiencing.

One thing I can say for sure is that today I’m the most anxiety-free I’ve been in weeks. I just really hope it’s cuz not taking the pill today has eased my anxiety and not because I was one of those super rare people who was suffering side effects that are now diminishing as the meds leave my system.

Hazel was chosen as the resident of the month, so we saw in the monthly crier. We saw her sweeping the streets the first time we came to check the park out. We thought she worked for the park or something, LOL. She’s 80 years old and she lost her husband 21 years ago. They mentioned how anyone who lives near her has the “cleanest” streets (referring to her sweeping obsession), haha. Her husband and 3 kids used to work in the landscaping business. One daughter is in Utah and then she had a son that fell when trimming a tree and died. Aw. :(

She’s lived here 8 years now and her other daughter comes around to help make sure she remembers to eat, take her meds, and lock her door. She was a swimsuit model in her younger years and gave judo demonstrations.

I have absolutely had it with Kiwibox and all its 10 million glitches and problems! The 1000 entries I have there can just sit there forever, and the nice but clueless owner can figure his problems out all by himself or get others to help.

I did hear from Aly after all. She insists she doesn’t use her hacking experience for fun, though she admits she has definitely kept some things from me. She’s too likable to hate for just a few flaws, but I’m not going to add her back on Facebook or anything. Just keep in casual contact. Besides, she’s proven I’m not the kind of person she’d rather keep in contact with that often, so casual contact is fine.

Sometimes I wonder if Andy’s playing with my head or if he’s just that brain dead. He insists EVERY journal entry of mine talks of weight, but that’s totally not true. There are other little things that make me wonder about him, too.

[writerbuddha]

Hey

Your blog is interesting. I do see where you're coming from in regards to Buddhism attachment and the Jedi and stuff. I do agree about them having no choice but to enter the war because of the implications. Although the Clones are legally slaves as they are considered possessions of the State. The Jedi might have respected them and not persoanlly enslaved them, but neither fact changes their status. However, I can see the other side as well. I understand why people have an issue with the whole "attachment" thing and how its applied. I mean the Jedi are in the right for joining the Clone Wars, despite the status of Clones, yet Anakin is bad and wicked and selfish and greedy for wanting to help his enslaved mom. The implication that leaving her to rot in slavery or die alone, scared and in agony at the hands of the Tuskens was the more "moral" or Jedi thing to do is very problematic for a lot of people. Or, the idea that he should have left his 14 year old Padawan to suffocate under rubble because rescuing her means he's "selfish and greedy" is similarly problematic. I think that both run contrary to the ethical code that many of us are raised with. The idea that you should help people, especially children, no matter what and never turn your back on a friend.

Sorry if this is a long ask and I don't mean to offend anyone.

Hey!

You said nothing offensive. I hear you.

That’s run contrary to my ethical code as well.

Anakin wasn’t bad, wicked or selfish or greedy for wanting to help his mom, leaving her in slavery wasn’t a moral or a Jedi thing to do at all. Nor that he should have left Ahsoka to die, wanting to rescue he wasn’t made him selfish. What you described is, at full extent, falls into the category of compassion, non-attached love. And that is genuine love, wanting others to be happy and free from suffering, covering what you described, helping people, especially children, no matter what and never turn your back on a friend.

I firmly believe the “attachment” thing is problematic because the majority of fans are not fully aware of the meaning of the concept. Attachment as George Lucas described it is inability to let go, possession, owning, having, getting, grasping, holding on. This is identical to the Buddhist use of the term. Because reality is temporary, things will come, things will go, everything is temporary. People, beauty, youth, money, everything will slide, at one time, they are in your life, and in the other time they move away from you. While they are in your life, love them. But you can’t attach to them in the other meaning of the word: “fastening” and an “external part attached to perform a particular function.” You must learn to let go, because if you can’t do it, you and your loved one both going to suffer. And the problem with attachment is that it’s always about you, it’s more the love of the self than the love of the beloved. You want to keep people around, because they make you happy. You won’t lose them because then you will suffer from you not having them. And this is why it is selfish and greedy. And because we all want everlasting joy, if you are attached, you will become afraid of losing your attachments, and it will lead you on a very dark path, ending in hate. And you will suffer, because you will spend your life being afraid, being angry, hateful. And that’s what Yoda was talking about, and that’s what they sensed in him about Shmi: “You afraid of losing her.” And that’s what Luminara said to him in that Clone Wars episode: “It’s not that I gave up, Skywalker, but unlike you, when the time comes, I am prepared to let my student go. Can you say the same?”

Listen to how Lars and Anakin say their final goodbye to Shmi: Lars last words to her: “Thank you.” Anakin’s last words to her: “I miss you so much.”

Whereas Shmi had non-attached love: her love for Anakin wasn’t how happy he makes her, but how happy Anakin is. And that’s why she was able to let him go. I’m always saying, Shmi is a “lay Jedi”.

Luminara is “at ease” when Barriss life is in danger, but I think it’s very important to notice that she always saying, she didn’t want Barriss to die, or she doesn’t care or she gave up. That’s why I don’t like Dave Filioni’s take on that episode, but he said it’s his personal reading, so I respect it. But I disagree. The problem is that many of us were almost encouraged to panic or fall to atoms in times like this, and the majority of movies and tv shows are outright glorifying hysteria as a measure of love. Ahsoka and Barriss wasn’t saved because Anakin started to run around in full panic mode, but because Ahsoka was able to come up with a plan. Luminara wasn’t giving up, nor she didn’t care that much about Barriss, but she accepted the fact that they might be too late, so she started to prepare herself for the worst. “If my Padawan has perished, I will mourn her, but I will celebrate her as well through her memory.”

The Jedi are trained to love people, but not to get attached to them, which is non-attachment – compassion. When you are compassionate, your love for your loved one, their happiness, their freedom from suffering gives you the feeling of being complete, gives you joy. And this is everlasting, because death can interrupt having, but not love. So it’s saying, I love you, so I want you to be free from suffering and I want you to be happy.” It’s genuine concern for others, manifesting itself in active engagement. But there is no fear of you losing, because you don’t have. When you love people, you won’t be afraid. You will be concerned for them, but that’s entirely focused on them, not on yourself. You can’t fear of the pain you will experience when you losing them. That’s a selfish desire for you keeping things and people who bring you joy. Attachment will make you afraid, what will make you hate and suffer.

And this kind of love can extend to all beings, even to their enemies. "don't lose a thousand lives just to save one" however, doesn't mean you must sacrifice your loved ones for the sake of others. The key is always that you should act out of compassion. Not out of fear of losing, the fear of not having.

Why the Jedi didn’t go to Tatooine to liberate slaves, that’s another question, but not because Anakin wasn’t allowed to care about his mother. A Jedi is a negotiator, ambassador, who is not going to war. They were not going to war until Attack of the Clones, as Lucas said, because they are not aggressive force. I always saw that their logic is that If they would go to Tatooine and liberate all slaves, they would have to fight a war against Jabba, pirates, the hutts, the crime empires etc. That’s not what they do. They did it once with Zygerria, but back then they weren’t alone, the Republic actually wanted to uphold its values, they made Zygerria to comply. But with the Republic corrupted, the Jedi wasn’t enough at all to uphold peace and justice. If the Republic would have function properly, they would enforce their laws on Tatooine, but the Republic didn’t care about them, so they didn’t have the support to function, too. They were overwhelmed, and they are not super people. Without the Republic, they go to Tatooine, defeat Jabba, then leave to help others. When they come back, there is a new Jabba, because free people on Tatooine didn’t really care and the Republic didn’t really care. All what happens is that they lose lives. But with the Clone Wars, all the galaxy caught fire, so they had to go to war anyway.

I am more than willing to accept that the Jedi wasn’t perfect, and I have to admit, I am glad to see that when people believe they advocated abandoning friends or family, they reject them so fiercely. But I can't help but think, their morals, choices and situations are often misunderstood. For example, I can't find any good reason why the Jedi wouldn't want to pursue the Senate to give the clones citizenship when the war was over. On the contrary. Their portrayal requires them to do so. Like Lucas said, they had good intentions, and they are going to war to save as many as they can. In the Clone Wars, you can see they care about clones as much as they care for non-clones.

Sorry for the even longer reply! XD I hope it's useful.

[fruitcoops]

Accidental Family

Hey folks! This is one of two fics for the six month celebration of this blog! Woohoo! Blood on the Ice is one of the most popular series I've written, and expanding it into Josie’s (@prohibitionincurls ) Winging It world with her was unbelievably fun. Disclaimer: one of the OCs has ADHD and it is a central theme of the story--while Josie based some of his characteristics on her own experience, we both recognize that this is not a one-size-fits-all situation. Thank you again for six amazing months, and I hope you enjoy!

Lots of love,

Eve <3

TW for mentioned injury

“Oh my god, they’re gonna kill me,” the kid whispered in a wavering voice, sounding much younger than he actually was as he left the penalty box.

“They’re not going to kill you,” Bowie soothed, still watching the tunnel where Remus had disappeared mere minutes earlier. From what he saw, there had been a bit of blood, but the bruising didn’t look too bad. Then again, there had barely been enough time for anything to visibly swell before he was whisked away.

“Can I just stay in the box?” Felix cast a look toward the Lions bench and his voice cracked. “They can’t yell at me in the box, right?”

“Hey. Look at me, Marty.” Bowie took him by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. “The Lions are good guys. They’re not going to hurt you, but you did just fuck up one of their best friends. What would you do if someone hit me in the face?”

“Come on, man, I’m a terrible fighter. I don’t know how well I’d be able to defend your honor after something like that. It was an accident. Do you think they know it was an accident? Should I go tell them?”

“I know. They know. Loops definitely knows. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re a little cold at first.” He ruffled the rookie’s hair and turned back to the game; the Lions were moving fast and brutal, slicing right through their defense for yet another goal. Shit. Felix clearly felt bad enough already--losing the game wouldn’t make him feel any better. 

They ended up losing the game.

Bowie had figured it might happen; he would have had the same fire if it had been his teammate that got clocked like that. Hell, he used to have the same fire when he and Remus had played together, so he completely understood. 

That did not change the fact that once they got home, Felix was still borderline inconsolable. The 18-year-old wasn’t technically billeting with them, but the apartment he was renting just so happened to be in the same building, on the same floor, and right across the hall from his and Simon’s. This led to an informal adoption of the rookie and he was around their house at least five times a week, if not more. 

Felix Martin was a good kid, and that idea was confirmed when Kronk immediately took a liking to him; the cat loved nobody but the three of them. Bowie was grateful that he and Simon were there to quell some of the homesickness that came from moving out to a new city on his own for the first time. The transition was always tough, but they could provide a little support.

They parted ways from the team when the bus got back from the rink and drove to their building in silence. Once they made their way up the stairs and down the hall, Felix moved to go back to his apartment. 

“Nope,” Bowie said immediately, placing a hand on his shoulder and steering him through the door to his and Simon’s place. It wasn’t a good idea for Felix to be alone right now--there was nothing to do alone after a loss aside from beat himself up about it, and Bowie would be damned before he let that happen. 

Simon and Kronk were perched on the couch, but they both moved into the kitchen as soon as the door clicked closed. Simon took one look at the pair and carefully wrapped his arms around Felix; the kid practically melted. The three of them stood there for a moment until Simon pulled back a bit and tilted his head toward the living room. Felix nodded and Bowie followed the two, sharing the couch with Simon while the rookie curled up in the large armchair diagonal to them. 

He...well, if Bowie was being honest, Felix looked like hell. He chewed his lower lip like an anxious beaver and fiddled with the loose threads of the closest armrest; everything about him screamed discomfort. Bowie caught Simon’s worried glance in his periphery and let out a slow breath, trying to relieve at least a little of the tension in the room.

“You don’t have to relive it if you don’t want to. I saw the game. But if you want to talk about it…” Simon trailed off with a significant look.

Felix sighed and his shoulders caved in a bit. “It was just one of those moments. All of a sudden, I didn’t really have a grasp on what was going on, which feels like shit because I’ve been doing pretty well so far. I dunno. It was just...bad.” 

That was it. Bowie knew Felix had seemed a little off. When Felix mentioned he had ADHD at the start of the season during one of their ‘getting to know your neighbor’ chats, Bowie hadn’t thought much of it. But as they grew closer, he began to notice when Felix forgot to eat or drink, or got overwhelmingly excited about something, or when he suddenly spaced out. It wasn’t just Felix being Felix.

The whole team stepped up and became intensely protective, of course. They not only helped him remember meal times, but also scheduling, directions, and everything in between. Bowie felt especially responsible for reasons he didn’t entirely understand--there was just something about the kid’s sweet heart that struck a chord.

He also knew that Felix was highly emotionally intelligent, but had no concept of whether people liked him or not. He was someone who assumed the worst, all the time. So, Bowie decided to do the only thing he knew would work: after a few more beats of uncomfortable silence, he pulled his phone out, tapped a few buttons, and pressed ‘call’.

“Hey, Remus, are you alive?” 

An amused snort came from the speaker even as Felix blanched. “Hello to you, too, Bowie. Jeez, you’re worse than Sirius.  I’m one hundred percent alive, just a little swollen. Your rookie’s got a helluva shot, but maybe tell the kid to hit the puck and not my face next time.” 

Felix flushed red and put his face between his knees, though hearing the laughter in Remus’s voice and knowing that he was okay clearly took some of the weight off his shoulders. Bowie whooped internally and shot him a quick, reassuring smile.

“Yeah, the kid’s got spirit, but he’s also got ADHD. He’s great most of the time, but sometimes under extreme pressure he can’t figure out where the fuck he--or anything else around him--is. Something about focusing or neurons firing the wrong way, maybe? Either way, it’s why he’s a terrible fuckin’ driver.”

Felix flopped back against the chair with a groan. “How the hell am I supposed to know how far away the cars around me are based on the mirrors? And how am I supposed to park?!” 

Remus’s laugh echoed once again. “Don’t ask me, kid, I’m not allowed to drive, either. Not because I’m ADHD, but because I’m terrible at it.” 

“You can say that again!” a muffled voice called from behind Remus. 

“Please excuse my fiance,” Remus said politely. “He’s a jackass who’s trying to make me lay down again.”

Felix smiled, though it was a bit pained. “I didn’t get a chance to apologize earlier. That stick was totally on me. And--I mean, I heard some of the guys talking afterward and it sounded like you got pretty banged up, so I’m really sorry. Like, really sorry.”

“Hey, woah, you’re fine,” Remus soothed. Bowie recognized his ‘talking to newbies’ voice and hid a smile in the cuff of his hoodie. “It’s the name of the game, after all. Did Bowie ever tell you about the time I accidentally checked him into a wall? Or when I broke his visor with a puck? For context, this was when we were on the same team.”

“Or that time you kicked my legs out from under me and sent me sprawling across the ice during practice.”

“That one was on purpose.” 

Bowie glared at the phone, but Felix was snickering and his grin was genuine. It calmed him a bit. “Thanks, Loops.”

“No problem, kiddo.” Remus paused for a moment, then mumbled something inaudible to someone in the background before clearing his throat. “Bowie.”

“Yes?” Remus had never been a wild card, per se, but he certainly had a knack for asking strange questions out of the blue.

“Did you accidentally adopt a child or do my ears deceive me?”

Bowie was about to laugh at the absurdity of it, but then he took a moment to think, looking back and forth between Simon and Felix. “Fuckin’--maybe I did, Re, but he’s ours now. And if that’s the case, I’m going to formally request that you tell your fiance to quit being mean to my son.”

Remus laughed on the other end of the line. “Will do. Felix seems like a sweetheart, I’m glad he’s got you two.” 

Bowie nodded with a slight smile, even though Remus couldn’t see him. “So are we. I can practically sense Sirius hovering, so go let your boyfriend fuss over you for a little while.” 

An offended noise came from Remus’s side, followed by a lower laugh and the click of the call ending. 

Simon looked Felix dead in the eyes. “I’m seconding the ‘kid’ thing. You may just barely be a legal adult, but it doesn’t mean we can’t adopt you. Congrats on your new gay dads.” 

Felix’s bright laugh sent a wave of relief through Bowie. “You guys are only, like, eight years older than me.”

“Silence, spawn,” Simon said, pointing a playful finger at him as his grin widened into something sweet and lopsided. “Now both of you need to come eat something. I made cookies while you were getting pushed around for a living.”

Bowie was still worried about Remus’ face--he made a mental note to call the next day to check in--but all his concerns disappeared as Felix scooped the cat up for a snuggle and followed Simon into the kitchen. They may have lost the game, but he would lose a million Cups to keep that moment forever: his Simon fussing over them both, his cat purring in pure bliss, and his kid settling into place at last.

[kamotoshi]

intent [kamo noritoshi x reader]

pairing: kamo noritoshi (the good one) x sorcerer! fem reader 

genre: fluff, comfort

warnings: the whole story revolves around the reader being injured so there are brief mentions of medication, pain, and injuries; toshi bein a headass

word count: 3.7k

overview: you have to wonder what your best friend’s intentions are when he’s gone out of his way to visit you during every day of your recovery, no matter how busy he is

On one of the walls surrounding you, the clock’s hand shifts from one minute to the next. Through the speakers of your laptop, the movie you’ve stopped paying attention to long ago drones on in the background. Instead of focusing on the plot, you’ve taken to gazing out the window, watching the lush foliage outside painted vivid oranges and blues by the sunlight breaking through dark clouds dance in the breeze, as if celebrating the end of yet another spring shower. It feels hard to remember the last time you went for a walk outside—or anywhere, for that matter—and the more you think about how painful it is to be bedridden and out of action, the more you start to feel the dull, seemingly constant aches laying siege to your exhausted body.

Thankfully, the sound of the door to your temporary living quarters opening and closing again distracts you from your depressing thoughts, and, instead, makes your heart flutter with hope. Plastic crinkling, fabric shifting, and footsteps padding along the floor reach your ears next before a tall and familiar figure appears in the doorway to the bedroom. There’s a moment’s hesitation on his journey into the room, as if he’d been worried about disturbing you, but he continues with confidence when he sees you’re awake and expecting him.

With a small smile, you greet him, “Hey, ‘Toshi.”

“Hey,” he replies, “how are you feeling?” The long sleeves of his loose-fitting robes flutter behind him like a butterfly’s wings as he wanders over to the chair beside the bed you’ve been confined to for the past few days.

You shrug, glancing down at the bandages peeking out from beneath the sleeves of your sweater. “I’m alright, I guess.”

His eyes dart from the screen of your laptop to your own gaze, then back again. With furrowed brows, he adds, “What are you watching?”

“I wish I could tell you.”

“What’s the point of putting something on if you’re not gonna watch it? What else were you even doing?” he questions.

A scoff echoes from your throat at the fact that you’ve become the sudden subject of an unnecessary interrogation over such a trivial topic, but you can’t help the wry chuckle that follows upon noticing his unfazed expression. As usual, he doesn’t see the issue in such small debates. “I always could leave it to you to argue about the most irrelevant things.” In spite of the dull, warning pain that pangs in the side of your torso, you reach over to move your fingers over your laptop’s trackpad, but Noritoshi quickly stops you and does the job for you.

“Has everyone here been taking care of you while I’ve been gone?” is his next, surprisingly relevant question.

Leaning back against the pillows propped up behind you should give your body a sense of ease, but after spending so much time in one spot, you’re desperate to do the opposite instead. “Yeah. They’ve been checking in on me and bringing me food and painkillers, so I can’t complain.” Your lips curl into a small, devious grin when you mention, “You know, I went on a walk around the place with one of your servants and he told me all these funny stories about you when you were little, including the one where you accidentally gave yourself an awful haircut and refused to leave home without a hat.”

Self-consciously, he fingers the wrappings holding his dark strands of hair together, mindlessly beginning to unravel them. Though his attention is conveniently directed at the computer screen, you can see the blush that dusts his cheeks before his hair falls in front of his face when he removes its bindings. As much as you want to tease him over the event that had happened during his childhood, you find yourself at a brief loss for words at how he looks now. The way your heart thrums just a bit faster and harder is undeniable and fills your body with a different kind of pain, since you wonder if he’s ever looked at you the same way you’re looking at him.

Tracing over the handsome features of his face with your gaze, resisting the urge to separate the kinks in his hair from being held together so tightly all day, hoping you become the center of his attention again.

“You know we have movies here, right?”

His comment abruptly interrupts your thoughts, and you clear your throat before shooting back a, “What?”

“The one you’re watching is horrible.”

“Oh? And how would you know?”

He purses his lips and glances over at you out of the corner of his eye. There’s a somewhat uncomfortable pause before he blurts out, “A friend.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” you retort with a snicker.

You swear you see a hint of a smile playing at his lips as he sits back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I’ll bring back a better one from my room for us to watch after I go and change.” When his dark eyes meet with yours, there’s a tinge of something indiscernible in them. Sadnesss, regret, maybe a bittersweet kind of relief? It reminds you of how he’d first looked at you when he’d helped you into the bed in which you lie now.

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” You shake your head. “Alright. I picked some stuff up from the store. I’ll be back to cook in ten minutes.” He frowns at the shocked expression that appears across your face at the mention of him cooking, since it’s such a rare occasion—due mostly to his lack of skill in the area—and rises to his feet once more. He does, however, extend his hand toward you and say, “Come on, I’ll help you into the other room since I know you’d be too worried sitting in here while I make us something to eat.”

A coy smile forms across your lips as you shove the covers aside, exposing your legs clad in sweatpants to the cool air in the room. “You know me so well, don’t you?” is the remark you send his way in a facetious manner that only fuels Noritoshi’s chagrin. His hand feels incredibly warm against yours when he grabs it to help you out of your confinement in the shape of a memory foam mattress, and you tighten your grip around it as your legs tremble with fatigue. Moving closer to you, he allows you to wrap your arms around one of his to support yourself, bringing your body flush against his

“Eight years.”

“Huh?” Your eyes, which had been formerly directed at the floor to mask the effects of your racing heart, shoot upwards toward him.

His eyebrows furrow in that judgmental, what do you mean ‘huh’? type of look he always made and wondered why others recoiled at the sight of it. “That’s how long we’ve known each other, so it’s no wonder why I know you so well.”

Giving his arm a playful squeeze, you shoot back, “Didn’t know you’d been keeping count.”

“It’s basic math.”

“’Toshi… you’re so, brutally honest. No wonder I’m, like, your only friend.”

“So?” he murmurs, arm dipping to support you, then lifting once more when your leg nearly gives out on you, “I’d rather have you than anyone else.”

The way he lets what he’s just said be known in his unabashedly straightforward manner of speaking, without tacking any other comments on to verify his intentions are purely platonic sends a wave of comforting warmth washing over you. Over the years, you’ve known him for his sometimes abrasively candid nature, but you’ve always appreciated that he’s never left you to question the value he places on your friendship. In spite of his shy tendencies that seemed to be limited mostly to interactions with you when the two of you had first become friends, he’d never been one to beat around the bush—and he still didn’t now.

Though you’ve always assumed his comments like the one he’d just made were meant in a friendly way, you can’t help but wonder if maybe there is something he’s not being forthcoming about. If maybe his more relaxed pace while walking with you accompanied by his lingering touch as he helps you onto the couch is his way of prolonging the time during which he gets to be closer to you. If maybe the subtle softness to his expression while he watches you settle is a result of love rather than just a superficial level of concern. If maybe him opening his clan’s estate to you as a refuge where you could safely recover had been done out of a deeper affection he harbored for you instead of his own guilt at not being able to protect you in the situation that had led to your injury.

But these are speculations you force into the back of your mind out of the fear you’re being imaginative and presumptuous. Surely, if he’d felt anything more than friendship towards you, he would’ve said something by now… right? It’s getting harder to believe with each visit he spends at your bedside, falling asleep with his head on your shoulder while he’s sitting beside you or resting by your legs as he slumps over onto the bed from where he sits in his chair. Seeing him go out of his way to support you, as he’s doing now while he stands in front of the stove—glaring at all the ingredients before him like he’s attempting to intimidate them into making a meal out of themselves—doesn’t help rid you of your persistent thoughts either.

Thankfully, you’re able to find a bit of distraction through conversation with him about his day. Between your glances over at him, you take to staring out the window, watching the rain come pounding down against the earth once more. Unbeknownst to you, Noritoshi finds his eyes on your form each time he looks up from what he’s doing, but they flicker back to the task at hand upon noticing your head turn back to keep a careful watch on him. Unfortunately, the moment you smell good food is when you let your guard down, and it’s not until there’s a haze in the room that you realize you’ve had too much faith in him.

Tearing your gaze away from the flowers Tōdō had brought you earlier in the morning, you shoot a pointed look over your shoulder at where Noritoshi stands in the kitchen. “Noritoshi, the food’s burning.”

“No, it’s still cooking,” is his swift response laced with confidence, as is usual for him. There’s a loud sizzle when he nudges whatever’s in the skillet onto the other side, sending another plume of smoke upwards

“It’s literally smoking.”

With a sigh, he turns on the fan above the oven and quells the flame beneath the pan with a turn of one of the knobs. Rolling up the sleeves of his sweater, he prods rather cautiously at what you can only assume is a lump of coal with a fork. You don’t need to see his face to know that he’s realized the error of his ways, since his broad shoulders slump ever so slightly. You’re sure part of him wants desperately to say that it’s not that bad, but you only hear the grating sound of him chipping away at the scorched food.

It’s hard to keep a straight face, especially when he turns away from the disastrous attempt at cooking to face you and ask:

“So, what do you want to eat for dinner?”

Your answer to his question finds a box of your favorite food in your lap about a half hour later, and him close by your side as the two of you eat and watch one of the movies he’d brought over from his room. With the darkness of the sky outside and the warmth residing inside you both at having enjoyed a meal much more pleasant than the one he’d tried and failed to make, it’s no wonder you find him dozing off. And it’s only a matter of time before his head comes to rest against your shoulder—an action you can only assume was done unintentionally in his sleep, but that sends heat rising up to your face anyway.

As much as you enjoy having him close and feeling his deep breaths tickle your collarbone, you decide to nudge him back into consciousness after about fifteen minutes of letting him snooze in case he wants to go back to his own room.

“’Toshi…?”

“Hey,” he murmurs nearly unintelligibly, “are you okay? Do you need anything?” The level of concern in his voice and the questions he asks before his eyes have even fluttered open make it challenging to hide the grin that threatens to spread across your lips. Your noses nearly brush when he lifts his head, and the small squeak you nearly let out soon morphs into a gentle chuckle at the way he blinks slowly and knits his brows together with confusion as he tries to regain his bearings.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you assure him, “I’m fine. I was just wondering if you wanted to go to bed.”

He frowns. “Maybe,” is his reply exhaled in a deep sigh as he stands so he can offer you his hand once more. “C’mon, I’ll help you back to the bedroom.”

There’s a somewhat heavy silence in the air after you thank him and latch onto his arm to steady yourself. Whereas his lack of chattiness is most likely from his own fatigue weighing heavily on him, yours stems from one of the many questions that’s been lingering in your mind. With the way he’d been going out of his way to assist you and keep you company between his missions, you can’t help but wonder what his true intentions are—and if he’ll tell you when asked. You don’t know if you can bring yourself to ask, however, and your own self-consciousness keeps you quiet while he helps you back into your temporary bed yet again.

He lingers, though, almost as if he can sense you have something on your mind with the way you’ve gone silent. So, he takes a seat beside you on the plush mattress and places his hands in his lap. The flash of lightning that brings a slow, rumbling roar of thunder along with it distracts him for a moment and his fingers grip each other tightly. He hates thunderstorms, and you’re one of the only people who know. In a movement that feels instinctual, you reach for his hand, sending a soft smile his way when he slides his clammy palm between your warm ones.

Maybe it’s because you know he’s feeling just as vulnerable as you are—which is a rare occasion with the walls he’s built up around his more personal thoughts and feelings—but words start rolling off your tongue before you can stop them.

“Say, ‘Toshi?” you ask. He hums in response, the low tone of his voice nearly lost beneath the rhythmic thrumming of rain crashing down against the roof. “Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?” Though his words were laced with exhaustion not that long ago, he seems much more alert now. Whether it’s his fear or his intrigue, you’re unsure, but his eyes meeting yours makes your breath hitch in your throat for a moment. The way you’re acting now brings a question you don’t intend on voicing to the forefront of your mind: How did I manage to deny my feelings for so long?

But the one you ask is: “Why are you doing all this for me?”

His brow raises. “What do you mean?” In a manner that’s comedic to you, he glances around the room, looking for whatever it is you’re referencing.

“I mean everything. Letting me stay here, taking care of me when you’re here, baking me dessert; hell, you even tried to cook me dinner.” Another clap of thunder gives you pause, and his fingers tighten around one of your hands. “So, what’s all this for?”

Brushing a few strands of raven-colored hair away from his face with his unoccupied fingers, he states, “I wanted to be the one to take care of you.”

Your face tingles with prickles of heat at his comment, but the sensation fades slightly when you notice his gaze has dropped to his lap and he’s allowed his bangs to shroud his expression. He doesn’t have the look of determination or even adoration in his eyes of someone who’s ready to confess their feelings. No, he looks guilty.

“Why?”

He fills his lungs with a deep breath that he releases in a drawn-out sigh before answering, “Because if I hadn’t suggested we split up during that mission, then this wouldn’t have happened to you.” The warm feeling of hope that had been swelling in your heart grows cold, like a flame extinguished by an icy gust of wind. “I needed to be the one to take care of you since I got you into this mess. This whole thing was my fault.”

“Oh, I see.” The biting undertones of your words don’t go unnoticed by him like they might normally would, since he lifts his head to look at you. With a shrug, you snap, “So you’re only doing all this to clear your guilty conscience, then?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” is his rebuttal spoken with brows furrowed.

“What the hell else was that supposed to mean, then? How was I meant to take that? Because to me it just sounds like you’re doing this to make yourself feel better.”

He shakes his head in an act of irritation toward himself. “Yes, I feel guilty, but that’s not the main reason why I’m doing this.”

“What, did you do it to be seen as a hero? An amazing sorcerer who’s also an admirable friend? Someone capable of doing the right thing?” you retort sarcastically, the sting of rejection parading as rage tainting your tongue.

“I’m doing it because I love you!”

In the long, somewhat awkward silence that follows his confession, you almost expect his face to fall. For him to realize that he’d revealed something that he hadn’t meant to. Or, worse, for him to tack the condition, “as a friend,” onto the end of it.

But the honesty in his dark eyes doesn’t waver. He doesn’t turn away and mutter about wishing he hadn’t said what he did. He doesn’t backtrack to revise his confession in a way that would keep you safely in the friend zone.

Instead, he says it again with the same level of confidence: “I love you.”

And adds, “More than I think you understand.”

His grip around your hand tightens in a gentle manner different to the fear with which he’d clutched it before with each flash of lightning outside. “You… do?” you whisper as your heart begins to ache in the tight vise of regret you now feel at your outburst. He nods without hesitation in response, and a small tug on his sleeve beckons him closer to you, driving away the chill in the air between your bodies.

For a moment, neither of you move, and, instead, gaze at each other as if your eyes are speaking silent reassurances. Despite the confident nature of his words, his actions are somewhat timid, since you don’t feel his breath fan across your face until you cup his in your hands. But, as soon as you utter those same words in return and press your lips to his, he kisses away any lingering doubts or worries, as well as your quiet apologies. While the storm rages on outside, you can only hear your own heartbeat and the short breaths you take between each tender yet passionate meeting of your lips. It feels as if a great deal of time has passed before you pull away, and you’re grateful for every second of it.

Without so much as a second thought, you make yourself at home in his arms already wrapped around you, resting your head in the crook of his neck. His warmth envelops you when he carefully tightens his grip around you to avoid hurting you, and any pain you’d felt earlier seems to dissipate in the glow of happiness and overwhelming relief that have taken its place. Noritoshi nestles his face against the side of yours, and his body steadily becomes heavier against yours until the peace is disturbed by another roar sounding from the skies above.

“This storm’s not letting up anytime soon,” he sighs, “Want me to stay here with you?”

Before you can even answer, he starts peeling back the covers and settling himself down in bed beside you. And in spite of your heart fluttering with joy at the thought of him spending the night with you, the opportunity to tease him is too enticing for you to let it slip away. “Why would I need you to stay here with me, huh?”

As usual, however, he’s unnerved by your attempt at catching him off-guard, and calmly replies, “In case the power goes out or you can’t sleep because of all the noise, obviously.”

A wry chuckle bubbles in your throat as you lie down beside him and move the side of your head onto his chest. “Obviously. Where would I be without you here to take care of me? I’m very lucky to have someone as diligent as you are by my side, aren’t I?” you simper.

His fingers interlace with the ones you have resting on his torso running absentmindedly along the soft fabric of his sweater. Giving your hand a tender squeeze and pausing a moment to admire the way your palm fits into his, he murmurs, “I think I’m the lucky one.”

Your last statement had been delivered somewhat facetiously but seeing the way his cheek comes to rest against the pillow so he can look over at you with only pure, unwavering honesty makes you add, in a more serious tone, “That makes two of us, then.”

[elsa-writes]

Alfie Solomons x Reader: Beauty and the Beast

Part 1

Authors note: this is my first time writing for Peaky Blinders, and my first time writing a fic in a while, so please feel free to bully me for my inaccuracies! also I might change the title later cuz idk what else to title this. Enjoy!

—-

Polly pretended to disapprove of you and Arthur’s shenanigans. Reality was, she knew with you around, Arthur couldn’t get into too much trouble. True, it was not the most respectable of hobbies for a lady, to be playing cards and hanging around bars every Friday night. However, Arthur couldn’t be getting any whores pregnant when he had to watch over his young cousin. And he’d make sure you’d stay out of trouble, too. Tommy had a similar line of thinking. Although with this latest scheme, you weren’t sure you had his full support.

“Are you sure this is the best idea?”

“I think,” Arthur paused for a beat, stroking his mustache. “It will go smoothly. You want to prove yourself, that you can function in this line of business, this is it.”

“And what did Tommy say about it?” You questioned. He’d sent Arthur in his place for a meeting with Mr Solomons. You were sitting in the car outside of the distill- bakery. Arthur insisted that you come along to this meeting. Camden Town was a bit nicer than Birmingham-though not by much.

“You know Tommy, he’s, well, you know,” he blustered. In the back seat, Billy coughed.

So Tommy was not aware of this arrangement. “Right.” But you were not going to NOT go in.

You’d bumped into Mr Solomons once. He’d been leaving after having a conversation with Tommy. You scampered away before he could say anything to you. Not out of fear of him; you ran away because you were afraid Tommy would know you’d been eavesdropping. Though Mr Solomons had made a reputation for himself, from what you’d overheard, he sounded like a bit of a clown.

“Are you coming or are you going to stay in the car like a baby?”

“I’m not a baby,” you protested and stepped out into the cold air. “Finn is a baby.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t invite him for a reason.” Arthur punctuated the sentence with a slam of the automobile door.

You adjusted your outfit, making sure you looked proper and professional. “Let’s get this over with.”

A man awaited you by the door and led you inside the distillery. It was dark, and damp. The odor of rum-er, bread, permeated the air. The smell made you light headed. Your shoes echoed on the cement, the loudest sound in the room.

As you descended into the labyrinth, a man appeared from behind a corner. Mr. Solomons himself.

His hat cast an ominous shadow over his face- definitely planned for theatrical effect.

He did not react to your presence. If he recognized you he gave no sign. “Welcome, welcome! You must be Arthur!”

“Mr. Solomons,” Arthur greeted, offering a hand.

“I’ve head so much about you,” Mr. Solomons said. The amusement in his voice was evident. He wasn’t taller than your cousin, but he was stockier and way more intimidating. Billy stood on the opposite side of you, wary of the large man.

Arthur replied, “Shalom.”

You cringed. Mr. Solomons gaze flickered to one of his men behind Arthur.

“Let me just say, Shalom,” Arthur repeated, painfully serious. You felt ill. If it were a less tense situation you would have smacked him over the head.

Solomons tilted his head just enough for you to get a glimpse of the look of incredulity on his face.

“Shalom!” He said. “So glad you could join us for this most joyous of celebrations! And I see you’ve brought friends for the occasion.” Solomons nodded in your direction. You’d been instructed by Arthur to not speak too much or get involved. The same went for Billy.

Arthur shifted on his feet. “This is my cousin, and my associate. Shall we discuss business?”

“Cousin, eh? From the sounds of it, there’s a new Shelby every fucking week.” Mr Solomons chuckled. “Come along, come along.”

He lead you into a room with a table in the center. Something was off. Perhaps it was the comment Arthur had made. It had surely offended them. The Solomons men hadn’t even looked at you. Not that you wanted to be looked at. It was unusual, though. They weren’t even looking at each other.

Something else in the room caught your attention; a goat tied to the leg of the table. It bleated sadly at you. You resisted the urge to pet it.

Mr Solomons circled the table and gestured. You took note of the pipe in his hand that also seemed to function as a cane. “Take a seat, why don’t you?”

Arthur hesitated, both you and Billy watching him before making a move.

He took the chair on the end. Some of the Solomons boys were standing behind the three of you in a perfect line. Another one took a chair next to Mr Solomons, still not looking at you.

Mr Solomons himself remained standing, studying Billy like he was the most fascinating thing on the planet. “And you’ll be...”

“Billy,” Billy said.

Mr. Solomons focused his attention on you. “Shelby?”

“(Y/n),” was your answer as you sat down at the table. There were plates and cups arranged before you. You kept your hands in your lap, careful not to touch anything.

“(Y/n)...You know, out there in the sand, out there in the desert where me forefathers come from... started out as a little speck...”

“Is everything alright?” Billy leaned over to whisper to Arthur. One of the men lurking around had shut the door behind you while Mr. Solomons rambled on. Arthur tried to dismiss Billy’s concerns with a wave.

“Billy, don’t worry mate, yeah, if you want you can leave. If you need to go to the little boys room or something you can leave.” Mr. Solomons interrupted, sounding a little too much like a school teacher.

“He’s alright, he’s alright,” Arthur grinned, rubbing Billy’s shoulder. “Billy boy.”

Your stomach churned. Something was wrong. This was not the kind of conversation that Tommy and Mr Solomons had had the day you eavesdropped. This was not the simple meeting you were promised.

“You want to stay?” Mr Solomons asked Billy; staring at him so intensely you had to look away.

“I’ll stay.”

“You stay there, then, treacle.” Mr Solomons grimaced, and his voice suddenly became much louder. “So! The pharaoh! Have you heard of him?”

Without thinking, you nodded, and he pointed in acknowledgement at you.

“He kept my people, the Jewish people, in slavery for thousands of years.”

“Persecuted, right,” Arthur interjected, pleased with himself for making this astute observation. Mr Solomons eyes lit up with amusement.

“He did, he persecuted my race. killing the innocent, right. So this feast that we’re having here , is basically the day what when the Jewish angels decided the evil fucking Egyptians had pushed their fucking luck!”

“Right,” Arthur added.

“It’s part of our tradition to do this, for in order to make it good with god to kill a king.”

Oh fuck. You glanced towards your cousin. By the look on his innocent smiling face he had not come to the conclusion you had. Okay, keep it cool. From the rumors you knew Mr Solomons was an intelligent man who spoke in idiotic riddles. You could have been misreading things. Sabini could be the pharaoh in the story.

“Right,” Arthur said again. What was Tommy doing at this moment?

“That is the ritual of the sacrifice of the pass over goat.” Mr Solomons said.

Everyone at the table turned to look at the bleating creature.

Arthur looked ill. “A goat?”

Mr Solomons gestured to it. “Yeah, we’re gonna sacrifice it. Tonight. That’s part of the reason why we have to shut the doors as well.”

You wished Arthur had let you keep a gun. You were a sitting duck. Every muscle in your body tensed, ready for the action. No, Tommy wasn’t the pharaoh.

“But this year we thought we’d give the fucking goat a name!” He grinned.

“You named it.”

“We fucking did.”

You averted your eyes as a man put a knife to the goats neck. “Arthur?”

“You named the fucking goat.” He shifted in his chair. It seemed as if he was catching on.

“Evil fucking Egyptian pharaoh-“

“The fucking-“

“And you know what we called it?”

“What’d you call it?”

Your hands balled into fists.

“Tommy Shelby,” Mr Solomons answered with a hint of triumph.

As the blood of the goat spilled on the ground you dropped to the floor. Chaos ensued; a gunshot fired so loud your ears rang. It took a few seconds for your hearing to return. Arthur was screaming. You looked up to see poor Billy slumped in his chair, covered in blood, not moving. You brought your knees to your chest and covered your head to avoid any potential stray bullets. Three of the men had to restrain Arthur, who thrashed and cursed.

Heavy footsteps approached. You scooted back further under the safety of the table. Trying to help him would be useless; you were outnumbered and they had guns.

Arthur went quiet, his freckled face pale.

The back of Mr. Solomons came into view.

“That’s that. So, and the evil Egyptian scum was finally cleansed by the blood of the Passover goat. Mate.”

You covered your moth with a hand.

He kissed Arthur’s cheek twice. “That’s for Sabini.”

Then he promptly bashed Arthur over the head. Funnily enough, it brought back memories of all the times you’d seen Arthur do the same thing to someone else. The urge to laugh overwhelmed you.

Mr Solomons dropped into a squat and placed the gun he’d shot Billy with into Arthur’s hand.

While he was in this position he noticed you under the table.

“Ah, hello there,” he grunted, eyes looking you up and down.

You wanted to swear, or grab the gun from Arthur’s limp hand, or do something very impressive.

He stared at you, waiting for a reply.

“Hi,” you sputtered out. “Is he dead?”

“Oh, nah, that would ruin the fun. You were not supposed to be here tonight.”

“I know.”

“Right. What the fuck am I going to do with you?”

“Let me go?” You suggested. It was worth a try.

He scratched his beard, lost in thought. “Cute, but I think not. That wouldn’t exactly wrap things up nicely, would it?”

A heavy pause lingered in the air. You pulled your knees in even closer, in an instinctual effort to protect yourself.

“Ok. Well! Lads, why don’t you take our guest upstairs?”

“Excuse me? No, no way.”

One of the men grabbed your arm, yanking you to your feet.

“Hey!” You struggled to get your arm free.

Mr Solomons stood up and turned away from you.

“You’re gonna kidnap me and you can’t even look me in the face! Fucking coward!” You shoved the man off but slipped in the blood on the floor, letting him get the advantage.

Another grabbed your other arm and despite your best efforts you couldn’t elbow him off. The near tumble had discombobulated you.

Mr Solomons glanced over his shoulder, as cool as a cucumber. “My good friends the London police are here if you’d prefer to go with them.”

The shock of what he’d said made you forget to fight. “Wait, what?” He didn’t have police on his payroll. Oh, Sabini did, how could you forget?

“Get the fuck off me!” You screamed.

The two men dragged you out the same moment as the doors flung open. A group of police stormed the room.

“Fucking animal came in here with a gun and he shot him in the face!” Mr. Solomons gestured with his cane, ignoring your pleas for help. “And my lads restrained him. Look at him! He’s dead! Is he dead! He’s fucking dead!” His false astonished voice followed you down the hall.

You fought back with all your effort.

“Stop fucking fighting, you’re lucky he didn’t shoot you too!” One of them said.

“Oh, how kind! How generous! Please be sure to thank him for me! Arthur! Arthur!” You didn’t know why you were screaming for him. They were carting him off to jail. Fuck. Would Tommy know? How long would it take for him to find out? “Bastards!”

Going upstairs was the worst part; you managed to slither out of their grip and ran up a few steps before tripping onto your face. They at least had the decency to not laugh.

The upstairs appeared to be some sort of flat. The two assholes threw you into the closest room, probably out of desperation to be free of you.

“What are you going to do with me?” You demanded, although you were scared of the answer.

They exchanged glances. They had let you free but blocked the door.

“Well, we’re not sure. He didn’t really give us instructions.” One said.

“I could give you some instructions. How about you go shove a-“ the threat was enough. Without rhyme or reason you charged at them like a bull.

Before you could spring your attack, they slipped out, locking the door behind themselves.

Slamming your fists on the door, you swore at them, every word imaginable.

Once you exhausted yourself you switched gears. Taking in the room; you noticed a bed shoved against a wall, a large, messy desk, and a small window. The style of the room was at least ten years out of date, and was covered in what looked like ten years of dust. This must be where Mr Solomons slept. For someone who had money he didn’t live like it.

You moved to the one window in the room. Here was a potential escape route. Except for the crowd of men huddled outside smoking. They wore aprons, like the others you saw. There was no way you could get past all of them.

But you could once they left. The only issue was making sure nothing happened to you in between then and now.

Who knew what upsetting plans he had for you? He fucking shot Billy. He could have shot you. Maybe the only reason he did it was because the police were nearby. He could be on his way up here at this very moment.

You needed to block the door. Anything to stall for time.

There was a coat rack in the corner that you used. The large cabinet full of decorative China plates looked easy to push; after a few tense moments of pushing you abandoned it and went for the desk. You investigated your work. The door could still be opened a few inches. Anything more than that would be blocked.

It should be enough. It didn’t feel like it. You were becoming aware of the heavy, dull ache in your muscles. Your ribs hurt from you dropped to the floor and bruises had begun to appear on your arms. You sat down on the creaky bed. If you were trapped in here, you might as well enjoy the “comforts” of this place.

A few hours passed. It had to be the next day already. Your thoughts were with Arthur, wondering if he’d woken up from the bashing yet. And Tommy, if he knew you were being held hostage. He was smart. He’d get you out of this. Unless he’d finally had enough of your antics and disowned you. No, no. Polly, John and Ada wouldn’t let that happen. You were spiraling and tired but too paranoid to sleep. Laying back on the bed, your eyes closed as you strained to listen for any sound. Why in the ever loving fuck had you let Arthur do this? When had he ever done anything smart?

Someone knocked at the door.

“Fuck off.” You said, a conditioned response from years of your cousins barging in on you.

Mr Solomons huffed. “Yes, yes. Listen. I’m not going to shoot you-well, I might if you get on my nerves- I have actually come to the conclusion that you may be quite useful to me.”

You sat up. “What?”

Mr Solomons opened the door, and to your relief, it got stuck on the desk. “Moving my fucking desk around?”

“I doubt I’m any use to you,” you said in your bravest voice. “Tommy will be looking for me. And he will want revenge for your betrayal with Sabini.”

He jiggled the door again. It didn’t budge. “Yeah, exactly. Revenge and all that. And I know he’s fond of you- you were at his house that day- so if I have you, right, as leverage, he’ll be less likely to put a fucking bullet in my head.”

“Did you really put Arthur in prison?”

“Yes, and I’ve just gotten word that Michael...Gray, is it, he’s been locked up too. So Tommy is probably a bit busy at the moment.”

Michael? That was probably a lie. A bluff. Polly would be in shambles.

“So are you going stay in there forever or are you going to come out?” Not taunting. Curious.

“I’ll stay in here.”

“You can come out, I’m not going to fucking hurt ya-“

“I saw you shoot Billy in the fucking head! And nearly kill Arthur!” You barked and flung the nearest object you could find, an empty bottle, at the door.

He cursed and shut the door before the bottle could slam into his head. “Didn’t you listen to a fucking word I said? Tommy Shelby would really come after me then.”

“Fuck the fuck off!” Another bottle flew through the air for good measure. This time the liquid contents splattered on the papers on the desk.

“Fucking hell,” he growled. “Stay in there as long as you want then, yeah?”

Your voice wavered. “He’s gonna come for me! And you’ll be sorry when he does!”

[echoghost1]

Ectober Day 05 - Ouija Board

Summary: Danny had just finished up a ghost patrol with his friends when he hears a voice calling out to him. A voice that his friends can't hear. A voice that he doesn't want to ignore.

Word count: 1,600

No trigger warnings for this one because it's also fluffy! It just starts off a little spooky.

You can also read it down below the cut!

Danny capped the thermos on the ghost of the day’s threat of vengeance and landed next to his friends.

“Glad that’s over,” Tucker commented as he tapped something on his trusted PDA. “And hey, we’ve still got some time if you wanted to do a quick study session at my place?”

“Do we have a test tomorrow?” Danny asked alarmed not remembering anything about that.

“No, it’s just a short quiz over the latest unit in Biology. You missed the announcement because of that ghost fight before lunch.” Sam explained.

Danny let out a sigh of relief, “Ok, sure a study session sounds-”

“Hello is anyone there?” a small voice echoed in interruption.

Danny turned toward the sounds finding nothing but the empty park and a distant streetlamp buzzing. “Did you guys hear that?”

“Other than you cutting yourself off in the middle of a sentence? No.” Tucker answered.

“Why? What did you hear?” Sam asked elbowing Tucker for his rudeness.

“I thought I heard-”

“Hello? If you’re there please let me know.” The voice spoke again. Now he could place it as a young female voice, but not one he’d ever heard before tonight.

“That.” He gestured in the general direction, which to his friends must have seemed like empty air.

They exchanged glances then shook their heads.

“I’m just going to check it out then. I’ll meet you at your place, Tuck.” Danny explained as he floated off to investigate.

“Danny, wait!” his friends called, but he ignored them.

It was probably nothing anyway.

He flew away from the park towards the older side of town, which was around where he lived actually.

He remembered his parents had mentioned that older houses were more susceptible to hauntings than newer ones.

“If anyone is there please just answer.” She asked again.

Although he could feel he was closer, the voice wasn’t getting much louder. Clearer yes, but it stayed a whisper.

No, it was more like she was talking right into his ear than from across a large empty room.

He flew past a small two-story home and noticed the soft flicker of candlelight coming from the attic. As he got closer he realized this was the source he’d been looking for.

In amongst a halo of candles was a young girl, maybe about 10 at the oldest. The dramatic shadows caused by the candles made it difficult to truly tell.

She sat cross-legged and hunched over. He had to move all the way up to the window to see what she was focusing on. He turned invisible on his approach to keep from startling her and noticed that she was using a Ouija board.

“I’ll ask you one more time tonight, okay? If anyone is there, please let me know.”

It took a moment for it to connect in Danny’s clueless head, that as a Halfa, he counted as the ‘anyone’ she was looking for.

Without being able to come up with a reason why not, he slipped through the wall invisibly and sat opposite her, mimicking her cross-legged position.

She looked up when the candles flickered with the breeze of his unseen movement.

He gently moved the planchette to spell out ‘Hi’.

Her eyes shot wide open, “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!” she looked around frantically, took a breath, then asked, “What’s your name?”

He waited for a beat and then spelled out ‘Phantom’.

She didn’t lift her eyes from the board, “Phantom?” she breathed, “As in the Ghost Boy hero, Phantom?”

‘Yes,’ he had the board indicate.

“Oh geez, I didn’t think I’d get you! You’re like, a celebrity!”

He chuckled and spelled out ‘thanks’.

She tensed when she heard his echoed laugh, then leaned forward, “Are you in the room with me?”

He moved the piece to “yes”

She stared at the board, her expression hidden by her auburn hair and darkness. “Would you rather talk out loud?”

Turning visible, he moved the piece to ‘yes’ while saying, “Sure.”

She bolted upright, eyes wide, and looked on the verge of screaming.

“Oh no, no, no! I didn’t mean to scare you!” he felt so bad, he’d appeared like that in front of Sam and Tucker all the time and they never seemed to mind. He had forgotten that most people wouldn’t be so used to his powers.

It confused him to no end when she started laughing.

“Seems kind of odd that a ghost didn’t want to scare me, right?”

They both got a kick out of the irony.

“So you know my name, but I don’t think I ever got yours?” Danny asked leaning back, using his arms to support himself.

She let out a small squeak of surprise. “Oh, right! I’m Charity. Sorry, I always forget that part.” She looked away hugging herself in insecurity.

“That’s ok, I’m not that good with people either.” He admitted.

She looked up at him through the strands of her long dark hair, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. But you know what? I bet there’s something you are good at.” He thought he could see a faint blush in the dim light, he couldn’t tell for sure so he just kept talking. She reminded him a lot of himself and figured if that was true, she could use a pick me up. “Like me for example, I could tell you anything you could ever want to know about space or NASA, but I’m failing Math... and Bio.... most of my classes actually....” he rubbed the back of his neck feeling awkward about sharing how much he sucked at school.

She blinked a few times before she spoke, “Ghosts go to school?”

“Yes?”

Crud, now he was going to spill his whole secret identity to a little girl? Well, no time like the present to work on his lying skills.

“If we want to. Which I do. And I usually sit in the back so no one really notices me.” He shrugged, trying to hide how he was mildly impressed with himself.

She swept her hair behind one ear and looked at him with deep concern, “Don’t you ever get lonely?”

“Sometimes.” He smiled half-heartedly, “I used to want to fit in with the popular kids, but it dawned on me one day that it just wasn’t going to work. That I just didn’t want to waste any more time on people who hated me. People that would only accept me if I were to change myself completely. I mean sometimes I still wouldn’t mind if they at least could be somewhat nice to me, so I try being nice to them, but then I get nervous and my powers act up. Or I just say really stupid things that I regret as I’m saying them.”

“Right! And then you just want to pretend that it never happened, but that’s the one time they were actually paying attention to you and then they use it against you forever!”

In unison, they sighed and agreed, “People suck.”

They locked eyes and laughed again, both pleased that they found someone who knows how hard it can be to not fit in.

“But wait,” she started, “Don’t you rescue your classmates all the time? I heard the high school is the worst place for ghost attacks.”

Without thinking it through he answered truthfully, “Yes! When I’m in hero mode, they can’t get enough of me, but bam!” he clapped his hands together so they slide against one another, his right hand going forward while his left shot back, “Back to class, and it’s ‘out of the way nerd’!”

She cocked a brow and straighten her posture, “You look different when you go to school?”

Double crud, this kid was a lot smarter than he was expecting, “You can keep a secret right?”

“Even if I had anyone to tell, they wouldn’t believe me anyway.” She answered frankly.

He frowned when he heard that, “Firstly, I’m sorry to hear that, but yes. Some ghosts can appear human. And I’m sorry I can’t show you what it looks like, gotta keep the secret identity a secret.”

She looked only somewhat disappointed, like she expected as much, and nodded, “Yeah, I get it.”

They talked more and more until the candles slowly burned themselves out. Danny didn’t even notice how much time had passed until he realized that that was the fifteenth time he saw her yawn. He looked to the window to see the early morning blue filling up the sky.

Alarmed he popped to his feet, not noticing when his legs fused into a ghostly tail, “Oh my gosh! I kept you up all night! On a school night! What time is it even?” He pulled out his phone, cringing at the sight of all the missed texts and calls. “6:15?! You have to get ready for school! I have to get home! My parents are gonna kill me! I have a test!! I didn’t even- ugh!”

He realized he’d been pacing through his whole rant and turned back to Charity who stared at him with confused and bleary eyes. “I’m gonna go now.” He gestured his thumb over his shoulder to the window, “Feel free to call again, but maybe next time save it for the weekend? Can’t have me messing up both our GPAs.”

“Ok, Dad.” She teased.

He felt his face grow red, or green rather, “I’d come up with some witty retort, but I’m running late.” And with that, he flew off hoping he wouldn’t be in too much trouble when he made it home.

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (2)

(So there are Journal Entries that are supposed to go with these fics, but I’ll admit they’re not as details haha. It’s up to you if you wanna read them or not, but please enjoy this chapter either way!)

Ch.1 / Ch.3

Chapter 2: Looming Support

Marinette bustled down the last few steps to the bakery and made a mad dash for the door. She should arrive at Rosemary right on time- for once in her life -but Felix was supposed to be meeting her there since they shared their first class together, and his demeanor gave her the impression that he preferred to get to class early instead of right on time. 

“Oh- don’t forget you’re croissants for lunch!” Sabine called after her, causing Marinette to screech to a halt.

“Right, right, thanks Maman.” She replied hastily, nearly yanking the paper bag from Sabine’s hands.

“Careful with those! They’re fresh!” Sabine warned. 

Marinette only nodded, as it was the only thing she had time to do, and ripped open the bakery door. The school was now five blocks away instead of two, but if she started running-

“Marinette!”

All thoughts of Felix and Rosemary flooded from her mind when the chipper voice of Adrien Agreste reached her ears. 

She glanced up to see her former classmate- and former crush, for that matter -stepping out of his silver car. Her first instinct was to run, but her feet refused to move, as if they were rooted to the spot from sheer panic. Why was he here? No, nevermind. She knew why he was here. The look on his face gave it all away. That easy smile paired with those stupid, pitying eyes was a look she’d seen a thousand times before. He always wore that expression when he was about to give her another lecture on why she needed to be the bigger person and let Lila figure out the error of her ways on her own.

“Marinette, I’m so glad I caught you! I tried to visit yesterday, but Mme Sabine said you weren’t home.” 

Marinette held back a smile, knowing full well that she’d been home all evening yesterday. Her mother was such a saint.

The humor didn’t last long, though, because Adrien continued, “I wanted to talk to you about your transfer? When did you decide to change schools? You didn’t even say goodbye.”

Involuntarily, she started shifting from foot to foot. Aside from the fact that merely looking at Adrien made her immensely uncomfortable, school would be starting soon. The last thing she wanted to do was cause Felix to be late if he decided to wait for her. “A-Adrien, I really need to go.” 

His smile wavered. “Maybe I can give you a ride? I really think we should talk.”

Finally regaining command over her own two feet, Marinette shuffled a step back. “No, t-that’s alright. I don’t want to trouble you.”

Adrien stepped forward. “It’s no trouble-”

“ThanksbutIreallyhavetogonowbye-” The quick farewell shot from her lips as she tore off down the sidewalk, giving him no room to argue. She knew Adrien all too well, and she knew that he would keep her there all day if it meant persuading her into his vehicle- or anywhere private -for them to “talk”. 

Marinette turned left and right, winding through the streets and back alleyways of Paris. It wasn’t the ideal detour, but she wanted to be absolutely certain that he didn't follow her. If Adrien was willing to show up at her house, she doubted that he would hesitate to show up at her school too. 

So she ran, ignoring the burning in her legs and desperately praying that Felix wouldn’t glare at her too much for the inconvenience.

~~~~~~

Time: eight thirty-two in the morning, exactly two minutes after classes were supposed to start. 

Felix never considered being late a problem so long as it wasn’t a regular occurrence. The tardy marks that assaulted his otherwise perfect attendance, however, were a bit of a nuisance. If it had been anyone other than Marinette, he would have left as soon as the class bell resonated within these borderline cavernous halls. 

A pair of footsteps developed in the distance, faint at first. He didn’t bother turning his head until the sound grew into a loud tapping on the pavement, but what he saw surprised him. Marinette, the very girl he was waiting for, was sprinting towards him. If that wasn’t enough, she ran right past him and into the school! Granted, she spouted something in his direction as she passed, but he certainly didn’t catch it. 

Felix, despite being thoroughly confused, followed her inside, where she was now bent over and gasping for air. 

“I’m- I’m so sorry for- for being late.” She panted, briefly glancing up as she did. He noted that her gaze was focused more on the windows than him, though.

“It happens.” He murmured, curiosity prompting him to look out the windows as well. A few cars passed, but nothing out of the ordinary. What was she looking for?

“You’re not mad?” She huffed, flicking her eyes to the window again and taking a step to the right. Was she trying to hide from something? 

Felix frowned. “No, but we should get to class. Getting detention on your first day isn’t the best first impression.” 

Marinette nodded, drawing in one last breath and straightening. “Okay.. History’s first, right?” 

“Correct. They’ve already started, though, so we’ll need to be discrete.” 

She pulled a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’s only the first class of the day. Once the next class starts, our schedules will right themselves, and our lateness will be forgotten.” 

-

And it was. By the time Felix met up with the others for lunch a few hours later, Marinette was bright and cheery and not nearly as distressed as she had been that morning. He idly wondered what could have caused so much panic for her, but it wasn’t his business to ask. They’d only known each for a day, after all. If she wanted to tell him about her problems, she would.

“Ready to go, Mari?” Allegra asked, looping her arm with Marinette’s. “The restaurant is a bit far so I’m gonna have you ride with me, if you don’t mind.”

“We’re going to a restaurant?” 

“Yeah, where else would we go?” Claude replied.

A soft “oh” passed Marinette’s lips, and she looked down at the small, pink package in her hands. “I, um.. I thought we were just going to eat at the park or something, so I brought my own lunch.”

“That’s alright!” Allegra smiled. “We’ll just go to a cafe instead. I know this outdoor one a few minutes from here that has the most splendid pastries.”

“Are you sure-”

“Of course we’re sure.” Allegra insisted, waving off Marinette’s concerns as they walked outside. “This lunch is for you, after all.”

Her bluebell eyes blew wide at the information. “For me?”

“It’s our way of celebrating a new member of the group.” Allan casually explained.

“Felix didn’t get a lunch since we already have to drag him by the ankles to everything else we do.” Claude added with a smirk.

Felix rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t disagree. They really did jump through a lot of hoops to hang out with him. Why the trio went through so much trouble, he’ll never know.

Marinette, however, giggled at the knowledge and stole a glance in his direction.

Feeling as if he should acknowledge her look, he leaned towards her and murmured, “You can still run. The ‘initiation lunch’ hasn’t started yet.”

She put a hand over her mouth to stifle her increased laughter. “I think I’ll take my chances.” 

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Suit yourself. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

-

Fifteen minutes later, they were all climbing out of their respective cars- Marinette hopping out with Allegra -and deciding which table to steal for the half hour they had left. Claude jumped to a circular table near the edge of the street because it “had more sun”. Since no one else had a specific preference, they followed along behind him.

“We try to make it a point to have lunch together whenever we can.” Allegra said to Marinette as they sat down. “Usually, we get to have one at least once a week.”

“Felix always tries to escape, but struggle is futile when Allegra is involved.” Claude whispered to the ravenette. The fact that he had to lean all the way across the table to do so, however, caused everyone to hear it anyway.

Allegra pulled a cheeky smile, not even denying the comment. She knew how ruthless she could be when she wanted something, and it was a trait that she held in high esteem.

Marinette, once again, fell into a small fit of giggles. Felix found that he rather enjoyed hearing her laugh, which was surprising. People who laughed at every other word in a conversation usually irritated him. They were either looking for his approval or just had dreadful, snorty laughs in general. Not hers, though. Something about Marinette’s laugh reminded him of tinkling bells or pure sunshine. It almost made him want to laugh along with her. 

“How long have you all been friends?” Marinette asked curiously, resting her elbows on the table and her chin on the back of her folded hands. 

Allegra was the first to answer. “Claude, Allan, and I have been friends since childhood, but Felix was roped into joining us a little over two years ago.”

A waitress came by to take their orders for drinks and food, but after she left, Marinette continued the conversation.

“It’s cool that you all have stayed such good friends over the years. At my other school, I somehow got put in the same class of people for six years straight, but..” She trailed off, her smile fading slightly. 

“But what?” Felix prompted, ignoring the surprised look the others gave him. 

If someone had told him yesterday that he’d be asking a random girl about her troubles, he would have said they were ridiculous, or better yet, not responded at all. When it came down to it, Felix wasn’t a sensitive or compassionate person. 

And yet, here he was, asking Marinette to continue addressing her woes- and they were woes. No one looked that depressed when thinking about cherished memories. -for a simple life story. Felix wanted to know what made her tick, how she became the person she was today. He couldn’t do that with the scarce information that he currently possessed. If she was close to telling them something important, why waste the opportunity?

Marinette’s eyes met his, also holding a bit of shock.

“But..” She repeated, casting her gaze downwards and lowering her hands. “I guess being childhood friends wasn’t enough to keep us from drifting apart.”

The table fell silent. 

Even as the waitress came back with their drinks, even though Claude- who usually never shut up -was sitting right there, the table fell silent. It was one of those moments, Felix supposed, that had to be silent, to reflect on the grief that hung so heavily in Marinette’s words.

Finally, Allan put his hand on hers. “We’re here for you.” 

The statement was soft, but strong and filled with sincerity. Allegra and Claude reached forward and grabbed her hand as well, showing their shared support.

Marinette put her free hand on top of theirs, her eyes glistening with tears, but her smile warm and grateful. “Thank you.”

Although Felix didn’t partake in the handholding, he offered her a meaningful look. “I told you: once the ‘initiation lunch’ is started, you’re stuck here.” 

A choked laugh came from her, and she wiped away a single, stray tear. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

~~~~~~

Marinette popped the last bite of her meal into her mouth and started balling up the wrappers and dirtied napkins to put them back in her lunchbox so she could throw them away later. She’d decided to wait until the others got their meals from the cafe before eating her prepared lunch, which resulted in a time crunch that required her to somewhat scarf down her food. Marinette didn’t mind it, though. Allegra moved their entire lunch date to another location in an effort to accommodate her. The least she could do was wait an extra ten or twenty minutes before eating. 

“What is that heavenly smell?” Claude asked, going so far as to stand from his seat slightly.

Marinette, who had just taken out her mother’s croissants, smiled. “Maman packed me fresh croissants from our bakery this morning.” 

“You have a bakery??” Claude asked next, rising further from his seat.

Allegra swatted at his arm. “Claude, behave yourself. We’re in public.”

The brunette sat down immediately, but his eyes remained on Marinette. Or rather, the paper bag she was holding. 

Marinette giggled. “Yes, about five blocks from Rosemary.” She then opened the bag and fished out a croissant. “Would you like to try one?”

“Absolutely!” Claude said, almost urgently, as he shot out of his seat to grab the offered food.

“Claude!” Allegra hissed.

Instantly, he sat down again, reminding Marinette of a hyperactive, yet well-trained puppy. She couldn’t help grinning at the sight.

“They’re chocolate flavored.” Marinette informed as she handed it to him. “We also have a cheese-filled one, but I don’t have any of those today.”

Claude didn’t hesitate to take a bite of the croissant, and she watched with an amused smile as his entire being seemed to melt into the chair. 

“Is it really that good?” Allegra inquired, reaching up to take a piece.

Claude jerked away, clutching the croissant to his chest as if it were a priceless heirloom. “No! She gave it to me!”

Allegra lips pressed into a thin, impatient line. “I just want one little piece.”

He shook his head. “Get your own croissant.” 

“Claude-”

Before she could argue any further, Claude shoved the entire croissant into his mouth. 

“Claude!” Allegra cried, both annoyed and concerned at the same time.

“I have more!” Marinette rushed to say, not wanting the conflict to worsen. Thankfully, the two turned back to her. 

“Maman packed a few extras since she knew that I was eating with you guys.” She explained, taking out another croissant.

Allan put a hand to his heart jokingly. “Aw~, you talk about us?”

A light blush dusted her cheeks, and she handed Allegra the croissant. “Well, you four are definitely a memorable group.”

“We wouldn’t be fun if we weren’t.” Claude winked, taking another croissant himself. It was actually Marinette’s croissant, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. His giddiness as he bit into the breaded treat was too good to ruin. Besides, she could always snag another one when she got home.

Allan hummed with pleasure next to her. “How did you make them so fluffy?”

“Maybe you guys can come over sometime to find out.” Marinette suggested with a smile. They’d taken her to lunch, so it seemed only fitting to invite them to her house as thanks.

Claude immediately brightened. “Can we really?”

She giggled. “I don’t see why not. I’m sure Maman and Papa would even teach you how to make the croissants yourselves if you’re nice enough.”

“Girl, you just say the word. I will be the epitome of nice.”

A round of laughter spread amongst the group. As if Claude could be anything but chaotic for more than a few minutes.

“We would love to come over.” Allegra said, still holding a wry smile from Claude’s comment.

Marinette beamed. “Great! I’ll see when Maman has a free day.”

A beeping sound cut into the conversation, and Felix glanced down at his watch. “Time’s up. We need to get back to the school for our next class.”

“You have a timer?” Marinette asked, purely curious, as they all started getting up.

“Felix always has a timer.” Claude interjected.

Felix sent him a glare. “It’s a practical thing to do. If I didn’t set a timer, we would all be expelled by now for being late to class too often.”

“He has a point.” Allegra allowed, pulling her purse onto her shoulder.

Claude shot her a betrayed look. “Don’t side with him!” 

Allegra merely shrugged in response. “We’ll see you guys back at school.” 

“We?” 

Allegra made a small gesture between herself and Marinette. “We’re riding together, remember?”

Claude straightened. “Hey, that’s not fair! You got to ride with her on the way here.”

Allegra rose a brow. “Your point?”

Claude flailed his arms, as if it were obvious. “So it’s my turn to drive her.”

“Your turn?” Allegra scoffed. “She’s a human being, not some object to be thrown around!”

“Says the person who gets to drive her.” Claude retorted. 

Allegra narrowed her eyes. “Fine. Why don’t we let Marinette decide who she rides with?”

An involuntary squeak escaped Marinette’s lips as the two turned to her. 

“Oh, um, well-”

Felix’s sigh cut her off. “Enough. I’ll drive her.” 

Claude’s jaw dropped open.

Allegra blinked. 

Marinette just stared at him, vaguely aware of Allan smirking approvingly next to her.

“If that’s alright with you.” Felix added, breaking their stunned silence.

“O-Oh! Uh, yes. That’s fine.” Marinette replied unthinkingly. 

He nodded. “Good. Let’s get going then.”

Marinette shuffled along behind him, sparing a quick glance to Claude and Allegra. They were still staring, though Allegra now had enough sense about her to clench her jaw from displeasure. 

She managed to give them both an apologetic look before Felix led her around the corner to where his car was parked. 

He helped her in, then got in himself and ordered the driver to take them back to school. 

~~~~~~

Felix stared out the car window as he tapped his index finger against his thigh. They were alone now. Just him and Marinette. This situation provided a million opportunities. He could ask her more questions about her old school, or her home life, or how she was enjoying the school so far. If she assumed that he was prodding, she might clam up, though. So he should probably choose one subject for the time being. Which question was most important? Which would give him the most information?

His finger started tapping faster in thought. Her old school seemed to be a touchy subject. That would be shut down quickly. She’s also extended an invitation to her house. Any questions he asked about that would be answered eventually anyway. That left her opinion of Rosemary Highschool, but that hardly reflected much of her personal life.

Felix checked his watch. They would be at the school in roughly five minutes, and there was no telling when they’d be alone again, what with Claude and Allegra running about. He had to ask something.

He stole a glance in her direction. Marinette was staring out the window as well, quietly twiddling her thumbs. He found that it was something she did often- fiddling, that is. It must be a coping mechanism for her anxiety. She practically couldn’t sit still during their first class after the mysterious scare she’d had that.. morning..

Felix cleared his throat. He knew what he wanted to ask her now. 

“Can I ask you something?” He began, hoping she wouldn’t be as annoyed by this as he himself would be.  

Marinette startled, whirling around to face him. “Sorry?”

“I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Oh.” She said, relaxing a bit. “Okay.”

Felix drew in a small breath. So far so good. “This morning, you ran into the school and avoided the windows for the first class period. I don’t mean to pry, but were you running from something?”

Panic flashed across her features, and her hands trailed up to mess with the tips of her jacket. “It’s.. it’s nothing, really... I guess you could say I didn’t leave my old school on good terms.”

Felix blinked. That’s an interesting reply. What did the relations of her old school have to do with her running from something? (Nevermind the fact that Marinette leaving anyone on ‘bad terms’ was shocking. She didn’t seem like the type to make enemies easily.)

“..Is someone stalking you?” He asked, somewhat thinking aloud. The way she ran into the school didn’t strike him as someone who was casually hiding from an awkward situation. If she left her school on bad terms, perhaps someone was trying to corner her for revenge?

She shook her head frantically. “No, no, no! Well.. technically yes, but ‘stalking’ is a strong word. He-”

He?

“-just wants to ‘talk’.” Her expression soured at the last word, and Felix wondered what sort of things one must talk about to have her on the brink of scowling. 

“You know we don’t mind picking you up.” He offered. It’s not his policy to involve himself in personal disputes, but Allegra would have his head if he didn’t suggest some sort of support. Plus, more car rides would provide more opportunities for him to ask questions. “If you’re worried about being followed, Allegra and Claude will probably fight tooth and nail to drive you to school too.”

Marinette shook her head again. “I really appreciate it, but that’s not necessary.”

Felix watched her for a moment, not missing the way her hands started fiddling a bit more in her lap. “Well, if you ever change your mind..”

“You’ll be the first to know.” She promised with a smile. It looked a bit forced in his opinion, but he nodded nonetheless. 

Felix supposed he should feel wary towards the new student. She hadn’t mentioned why she left her old school, though she admitted she had unnamed squabbles there. That can be considered innocent, but it can also be a skillful way to avoid consequences. As far as he knew, she could be running from her victims who decided to rally against her. 

And yet, he couldn’t help being filled with this sense of morbid curiosity. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a fashionista who appears to have a big heart and a troubled past. She lives in a bakery, yet managed to attend one of the most prestigious schools in the city- possibly the country. She’s riddled with nervousness, but every step she takes tells you that she knows exactly what she’s doing. 

Who exactly is Marinette Dupain-Cheng?

Felix couldn’t wait to find out.

Tag List: @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks

[cher-writes]

Silver Screen / Silver Pole | Robert Sheehan x Reader (18+)

Summary: A night of celebration in a LA strip club takes an interesting and unexpected turn when a contrarian actor winds up offending the wrong stripper. But night is long and the possibilities are endless, where will it take them?

Word Count: 7.3k

CW: Mention of sexual harassment, Consensual slapping, NSFW smut

A/N: This one is surprisingly not bloody at all and the smut isn't wild either so like most everyone can read it. Although it's emotionally very heavy. So, get ready to feel some shit. Hopefully you'll enjoy.

Special thanks to @crisis-of-joy for being there for me the whole month I took to complete this emotionally taxing fic and also for being my kind beta reader & editor.

Burning on it’s way down, the third glass of whiskey finally gave her some life she desperately needed. Deafening music throbbed throughout her veins, drowning the club in the background. She wanted to drown with it too but she couldn’t, she was there to work and rent for the month was already due. The fourth glass was on the verge of meeting with her bitter mouth when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t drink so much, you’ll trip on the stage,” Coco practically shouted in her ear. Coco was the only friend she had in that goddamn place and It wasn’t a very rare occurrence that Coco had to drag her blackout drunk body out of the club. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say she had a problem. Considering that she was already on her third strike of the month and the third drink of the night, Coco knew better than to let her get drunk this early.

 “I can’t stay here and be sober at the same time,” she shouted back at Coco, “especially after...nevermind,” but decided against talking about it and instead focused her energy on finishing the fourth glass, which was gone just as quickly as the words stopped coming out of her mouth.

 She could read the concern on Coco's face and sense the questions brewing behind it as Coco spoke up, “I want to know what the fuck is up with you but I have to go now, Caleb came home from school hours ago, it’s pretty late and I have to cook him dinner.”

“What happened to Larry? Can’t he take care of the kid? He’s fucking jobless anyway.”

“He got in a bad fight again. I can barely afford Caleb’s school fees and now the medical bills.”

“If only you had divorced him, you wouldn’t need to worry about it.”

“And if only you had been less violent towards customers, you wouldn’t be on the verge of getting fired. But, here we are.”

She furrowed her brows at this sudden sharp stab of truth by Coco and dealt with it the only way she knew how to, by ordering another drink. Coco crossed her arms letting out a deep sigh and said, “Look, I'm only trying to help you, (y/n). Sam wanted me to go up. You see that group seating in the fifth VIP booth? Up there. They are celebs and celebrating something so, ya know, good money. I said no cause, as I said I gotta go home, but I convinced him to let you go up there. It was hard given your recent less-than-favorable behavior, but I managed to.” Coco snatched the already empty glass from her hand and continued, “So stop drinking, go up there and get that money. And for the love of God, behave yourself or this might be your last night here.”

Giving her hand a quick but tight squeeze, Coco got up then soon after disappeared into the crowd. She thought to herself about how a last night there wouldn’t be so bad if she could afford it, and wanted another drink immediately to kill that thought, but Coco's words haunted her ears. She looked over her shoulder to see three men sitting in the booth, laughing.

------------

Her head was in a violent swirl, vision blurry. She was way too drunk to be spinning around the pole, but she had an audience to entertain and had no one but herself to blame.

When you walked around your house wearin' my sky blue Lacoste, the song was thudding against her skull. Pulling herself together, she counted every second, waiting for the song to end. She could feel the eyes on her, sticking to every bit of her, just as invasive as it was the very first day yet, she couldn’t care less. She had to live through it if she wanted the money and she needed the money if she wanted to live. The room was dancing circles around her as the tips came flying in, she kept counting the seconds, sliding down the pole, and your knee socks.

------------

She was swaying dangerously on her way down from the stage. If the song didn’t end when it did, she would have thrown up without a shadow of a doubt. At that point, she didn’t even know how or what she danced, only the awful sickness in her stomach let her know that it was more than she could take.

She needed to chat up the men, try and convince them to buy a champagne room before the next song came on, which she feared was way too soon for her liking. Nevertheless she tried to steady herself but the big glass platforms messed with her earnest efforts, nausea kicking her in the stomach once again, letting her know of her limits. 

She didn’t ever really look at the men who sat in front of her, leering at her, they all looked the same, smelt the same and talked the same. So she followed the same old routine, bending down just enough to give them a view up her tits. Pressing her arms closer, she slurred, “What are we celebrating, gentlemen?”

 She absolutely hated how she sounded pandering to men, two pitches higher. “My friend over here landed a role in a Spielberg film!” the middle one spoke up and pointed to the one sitting on the right side. The one in question grinned in response and repulsion licked the back of her neck at the sight of that. Yet she needed to please him, “That’s amazing! I’m sure I’ll be seeing your face on the billboards everyday now while driving,” she said and fantasized about having enough money to burn down all the billboards in LA and maybe LA with it too.

 “Hell yeah you will!” the one in the middle spoke up and broke her reverie so she pretended he was supporting her fantasy instead. “Oh please! Speak for yourself!” the one on the right perked up in his seat and continued, “He’s literally working with Fincher AND he got engaged!”. The one in the middle gave a revolting smirk at the very humble revelation of his accomplishment and it was enough to turn her stomach or maybe it was the alcohol, she couldn’t really decipher.

 “Oh really?” she looked at the man, tilted her head and said, “And you came to a stripclub to celebrate your engagement?”, her face deadpan. Notes of contempt stuck out like thorns from her voice, making her sound way more intense than she intended to.

 He tensed up visibly at her sudden razor-edged tone and, even though she didn't want to, she had to ease the situation. I can’t piss off these bastards again, she kept repeating to herself like a mantra. “Boys will be boys!” she said, not being able to think of something better that wasn’t inherently insulting, and laughed the most disgusting laugh of her life. If she could she would pour gasoline down her throat just for uttering those words.

 She couldn’t bear to linger at that conversation point anymore so she turned her attention to the man sitting on the far left. He looked distant and foreign, staring but not really looking at her. There was a peculiar absence behind his distinct green eyes, which she would even call beautiful under different circumstances. And that, something about that absence, made her want to zero in on him.

“And what about you? Did you win an Oscar or something?” mockery ringed clear in her voice, which brought his attention back to the presence. Startled slightly, he straightened his posture while saying, “No, not really... not yet at least,” he smiled sheepishly and continued, “I’m just here with them”.

“Come to think about it, I’ve never really seen you anywhere,” she said without thinking too much. In fact, she didn’t really pay enough attention to how he looked to recognize him even if she did. 

Something intense flashed his eyes for a brief second. She couldn’t quite put her fingers on what it was but she could feel the energy shift very quickly between them.

“Oh I’ve been in things but I’d be surprised if you did see any of them,” his voice now stripped of the delicacy it previously held. She could feel the air between them getting unusually heavy, his words penetrating through her skin a bit too effortlessly, a bit too swiftly that it was unsettling.   

“And why exactly would you be surprised?”

“You know...cause people like you don’t usually watch the kind of films I do.”

“What do you mean by ‘people like me?’”

“You know...people of your...stature,” he trailed off. Blood rushed the back of her neck as soon as the words hit her ears. She could feel her vision burning, a hot wave washed the crown of her skull, something unruly building at the base of her being. Clenching her jaw so as not to let it take over her, she said, “Stature huh? Fancy! I reckon from your accent that, wherever the hell you’re from, people get a kick out of looking down on others with such wispy language.”

 She could sense the same unruly substance dancing behind his chest, but he was far better at keeping it on a leash.

“I wasn’t looking down upon you. What I was merely getting at is that some people aren’t cut for apprehending particular types of films,” he sounded snarky but calm, the type of calm that’s tainted with scorn, which only sent ripples of rage down her ribs.

  “Oh so you think just because I’m a stripper by profession that I wouldn’t understand your low-budget dumb indie movies?” she was getting visibly worked up now. Traces of her seductive posture vanished long ago but there was a new hostile energy flowing through her stance.

“I didn’t say that -”

“No, of course you didn’t say that, you only meant that. You meant what you think and every one of you think that we aren’t people with brains and emotions. No, no, we’re just sacks of meat to ogle at in exchange of money, and then grope when you can’t keep it in your pants.”

“I think you're trying to put words in my mouth, this is -”

“God! you think you’re fucking better than me, don’t you? You contrarian little shit!” she could feel it in her bones. She knew what was coming. There were people behind, or maybe beside, her, trying to talk to her, probably. She could hear no one, not even the previously unbearable blaring music. She had tunnel vision and it was fixed on him. The air she breathed chafed her nose. Her nerves thumped as her heart leapt at irregular rapid intervals.

  “Excuse me! but i neve -” he said as his body went alert. Posture anticipating something violent, flight or fight.

  “You think you're better than me because I'm a stripper and you got enough money to buy me?” her voice was icy as she spoke, “You LA people are all the fucking same. You get a little money in your pockets and you think you own the world and anyone who isn’t jerking off to your pretentious bullshit isn’t worthy enough to deserve basic fucking decency. Huh is that it?” she quickly jumped on top of him, straddling him.

He was frozen under her as she leaned in and murmured, “Well then allow me to show you”, she pulled away, her left hand clutching his shoulder as right fist rose the air, “HOW FUCKING BETTER THAN ME YOU ARE!” then her fist crashed on the side of his mouth with all the force she could muster, releasing a knot built in her chest since she checked in with the manager in the evening. Hot, sweltering adrenaline was coursing through her veins.

 The impact resulted in him burying his face in his right shoulder so she grabbed a fistful of his hair and forced him to face her. His lips were starting to swell up so she decided to help it. His eyes went blank as her fist met his face once more.

 Involuntarily, her hand was raising in the air again when she felt a strong pull from behind. The security guard, twice her size, yanked her away from him. People gathered around them staring at her, the music stopped to her relief. The guard twisted her arms behind her back, enough to leave bruises that’ll sting for days to come. She couldn't move, her sight went hazy yet she felt this strange cool serenity soothe her tensed muscles. His friends were crowding him, probably consoling him. She could neither hear them nor make out their faces from her almost closed eyelids. She was pretty sure she was falling asleep in the guard’s painful hold until she heard a certain voice and the hair at the back of her neck stood up. 

“What the fuck! She’s at it AGAIN? Sir, I'm so sorry -” Sam, the manager’s voice pierced her ears as he rushed into the booth. As he was talking to them, commotion rose in the background. She could feel blind rage beating with every thump of her heart. If it wasn’t for the guard holding her in place, she would have skinned him alive by now. She was struggling to free herself when Sam turned to her and said, “You! That’s it!” pointing his left index at her. “I’ve had just about enough of your drunkass assaulting fine gentlemen. You’re fired. Get out right now! And be grateful we’re not reporting you to the police.”

Suddenly everything went quiet in her head. She smiled, nothing behind her gaze. Grinning ear to ear like a maniac, she said, “I’m fired? Aww what’s gonna happen to you now Sam?”. She cooed, ''Whose tits and ass are you gonna grab from now on? Stella? I wonder if she’ll compare to me though.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sam almost hissed at her.

“Ohhh right! Of course, you don’t know what I’m talking about,” she said while still tussling with whatever little strength she had left to loosen herself from the guard’s excruciating grip. “You don’t know anything about how you sexually harassed me day after day, how your disgusting, slimy little hands grabbed my body against my will at every chance that you got. You knew how much I need the money from this job and you used that against me to keep me silent, threatening to fire me every time I made even a sound. But guess what fucker? I’m fired now! And I’m gonna tell everyone about HOW YOU TRIED TO -”

“Take her to the staff room!” Sam cut her off, “NOW!” And, as soon as the words left Sam's mouth, the guard put his palm over her mouth and started dragging her back. The hand over her mouth muffled her screams and she glanced at the man, now with swollen lips, looking at her with eyes filled with, what looked like, concern.

As she was getting dragged, she finally managed to sink her teeth into the guard’s palm resulting in him withdrawing his hand just enough to give her a small window of time to scream at Sam: “YOU MOTHERFUCKER I’LL BE BACK AND I’LL PEEL THE SKIN OFF OF YOUR SCALP FUCKING SON OF A BITCH I’LL -” Before she could finish, her voice got cut off again and she faded into the dimly lit passageway at the back of the floor.

------------

The cherry of her fifth cigarette shone brightly in the shivering cold as the smoke drifted up in the air and sluggishly faded away. Mouth agape, her eyes meticulously followed the faint trails left after their disappearance. She wondered where they went, where she’ll go. If it wasn’t this late, and the water wasn’t so cold, maybe she could have gone for a swim in the ocean. If the water wasn’t so cold maybe she would have let it swallow her even. She was calculating the probable temperature of the hypothetical water she’d marry someday when the sound of slow approaching footsteps entered her field of perception. She would have preferred to ignore it but the, somehow already familiar, voice spoke up, “Hey erm...” and left her no choice but to look. And there he was, the foreign man with the swollen lip, looking culpable. There were distinct imprints of guilt in his voice as he continued, “I saw you across the parking lot…um I was actually just leaving with my friends,” he pointed at a black Mercedes parked at the far end of the lot. “They’re waiting in the car anyway so I decided -”

“So you decided now that she’s fired from being a stripper, she's probably a hooker! Lemme go ask the price she’s selling at,” her gestures and voice was comical, “you know, dude if you’ve got a kink of getting beaten up non-consensually then you’re really good at getting it cause I might just be up for round two.”

He stared at her for a good few seconds with a perplexed face, as if trying to process her stream of logic. When he started speaking, he sounded genuinely hurt, “No! Jesus Christ I came to apologize. Can you just not be defensive for one second? I’m not a monster ya know!”

His sincerity caught her off guard. She had about five thousand ways of dealing with assholes prepared and ready to go but an actually decent person? Now that was rocky territory for her.

“Well, uh, that’s a first. Go ahead I guess?” she shrugged her shoulders.

“I apologize for saying what I said back in the club. I shouldn’t have insinuated that you aren’t intelligent enough to understand my films just because of your choice of profession. It was really shitty of me to say that, and nothing can justify it either. And I feel like I caused you to be fired, that’s also weighing heavily on my soul and I don't know how to make it up to you. Just, I hope that you can forgive me and, again, I apologize, earnestly. Please tell me how I can make it up to you,” he said and looked at her with a rueful expression.

She was at a loss of words. It had been years since anyone apologized to her, let alone that sincerely. After a considerable amount of silence, she gathered her fragmented thoughts and spoke up, “Whoa, whoa man, chill. You didn’t murder my family or anything so calm down,” she held up her open palms, the cigarette almost at it’s end. “Apology accepted, okay? And don’t feel bad, I would have been fired sooner or later given my questionable behavior ever since I joined, so it’s not on your conscience. And I’m sorry too,” her index and middle finger holding the cigarette gestured at his lips, “for, um, punching you so let’s call it an even.”

“Okay,” he nodded, “yeah okay,” sounding clearly more relaxed than before.

“You know it’s a miracle how long it took for me to get fired,” she mused, “oh no it wasn’t a miracle it was sexual harassment, ah I see now. Wonder what Sam saw in me though that was worth not firing me for this long even though I pulled so much shit,” she took a long drag of her weary cigarette. “Maybe I've got a talent for getting harassed or something...who knows?”

His face tensed up again as he said, “That’s...not right,” eyes pooling with the same worried look as before.

“I was joking, chill. Humor is an excellent way to deal with most everything really, especially trauma.”

“I am sorry for what you had to go through, it’s gut-wrenching. Can’t you lodge a complaint to the police?”

“Going to the pigs? As a sex worker? Who just got fired for being drunk and punching a man in front of many eye witnesses? Now that was humor, you’re quite good at it actually.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Besides, that’s like one of the first things you gotta learn to put up with if you’re working in this business. As unfair and grim as it is, men, no actually, people don’t see sex workers as human beings and I’m just too obstinate to accept that simple fact, or maybe too much of a pussy, depending on where one’s priorities lie.”

“I…don’t know what to say.”

“There is nothing to say.”

 It was just setting in for her how beautiful he actually was. His crestfallen face was graced by two stunning green eyes, lush unruly curls sticking to his forehead, sharp jawline kissed with a  scruffy goatee and the swollen lip throwing off the symmetry just right to make him look captivating, to say the least. In the chilly December ambience his face was a soothing sight to her eyes, his sweet voice kind to her drudging ears, his presence warm to her existence. And she wanted to hold onto the warmth, just for a bit longer.

   “You said you wanted to make it up to me, right?” she said as the cigarette fell on the ground then died out under the crushing embrace of her cruel heels.                         

------------

“Well I'm Ro -” he said leaning against the passenger seat window, sitting half facing her.

“If you’re trying to say your name then don’t,” she cut him off quickly without averting her gaze from the road.

“Why?” he asked, staring at her intently yet without any emotion in particular.

“‘Cause it doesn’t matter. It’s better if we don’t know each other’s name. Names individualize people and that’s not necessary for tonight,” she answered nonchalantly as the neon lights of a passing by road sign illuminated her face and then faded into the past just as nonchalantly. 

“Okay.”

She could feel his eyes on her, but it didn’t bother her, it wasn’t tainted. There was this unusual tranquility in the atmosphere of the car, this obscure but consistent serene rhythm. She felt a bizarre comfort in his presence and she could drive like this forever, on a never-ending road spiraling towards heaven or winding down pandemonium or just dissolving into the ether, with him sitting lazily on the side.

    “Do you ever feel like that?” he spoke up absentmindedly, breaking into her almost fever dream.

“Huh?”

“The song, I feel like that often.”

She didn’t realize the radio was on, playing at quite a significant volume. She wondered if he had turned it on at some point and how long she was driving for without being present mentally.

This place will be the end of me. Take me out, LA. Take me out of LA, the voice from the radio filled the car to the brim.

 “I don’t feel like that, I know that. I know I'll die here, kinda intrinsically...do you hate this place?”

“No, not hate. I just feel like I don't fit in here. It’s the way of life, it’s quite significantly different to what I was used to. The people and the city, it all feels hollow sometimes and every now and then i catch myself yearning for what I left behind me.”

“I see. Beautiful people and their beautiful problems.”

    Silence fell in the car again. Except for the voice through the radio, Well this place is never what it seems.

 “You don’t have to make small talk, you know. I'm fine with silence,” she said, finally looking at him for a brief second.

“Oh I know,” he was looking right into her eyes, unruffled. “I wasn’t making small talk, I just wanted to talk to you. That’s all.”

------------

The bleak fluorescent tube above buzzed in solidarity as the fatigued clock on the chipped convenience store wall dragged its hands and finally managed to tick at 2 am. The attendant was leaning on the counter, trying not to fall asleep when her voice echoed in the store: “$20 on pump 2.”

“I’ll pay”, he cut in, reaching for his wallet. “Okayyy...” she replied, narrowing her eyes at his benevolence and looked around the store which was significantly emptier that other nights. She closed her eyes for a second and the memories flashed behind her lids. She used to come here frequently, around this time, with someone when everything in her world was right, just right enough for her to not to seek out falling stars every night and wish for death over and over again. When she opened her eyes a shiny pack of Parliaments caught her gaze and she quickly gestured behind the counter, “Since you’re paying, can I get a pack of those also?”

“Sure”

“I remember surviving on those alone while writing my thesis papers,” she said wistfully, “good times.”

“You went to college?”

“University actually, but yeah.”

“Good lord.”

“But I had to drop out so I couldn’t complete my Master’s in Biochemistry.”

“Why?”

“Life.”

“I flunked out my first year of college so you did way more than I did in that regard.”

“Welp, look where that got me.”

“Don’t say that!”

“What?” she scoffed.

“Anything else?” the attendant interjected, visibly tired and clearly annoyed at their conversation.

She swiftly grabbed a lighter, “Can I get this too?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“That’ll be all,” she tossed the lighter towards the attendant and continued, “You’re clearly doing way better than me in life.”

“Are you being sarcastic?” he replied, raising an eyebrow.

“No. I meant that seriously. I’m the one who fucked up my life and that’s a fact. Say, how did you know what you wanted to do?”

“That’ll be $30”, the attendant interjected again.

“I don’t know. I started acting as a kid and it just seemed right. It’s all I've known really and I can't see myself as anything else,” he said as he passed the money to the attendant.

“I envy that.”

“I do sometimes ponder what I would have been if not an actor.”

“Wondering too much isn’t good,” she grabbed the goods and shoved them in her coat pocket, “It might make someone into me.”

She stopped right before the glass door, pulled the lighter out and flicked it on, “I’ll use it later,” she leaned in close to him with a frivolous smirk and whispered, “to burn this city down.”

He chuckled at her sudden gaiety, “I’d gladly assist.”

Pushing the door open, she continued as he followed behind her, “Did you see the way that dude rolled his eyes to you? He definitely thought you were with a blabbering hooker and to be honest, my make up probably didn’t help either. Oh well it's not like -” her voice slowly evaporated into the gloomy gas-station lights. 

------------

“So beautiful,” he said with awe looking over the vast and apparently endless ocean which the full, eternal moon bathed with its silver glory.

She clutched at her coat sleeves as the chilly wind sent shivers down her body and said, “I know right? I’ve always found the sea to be peaceful during this time of the night.”

“It’s lovely, I’ve never been to this beach before.”

“It’s my favorite spot actually, I used to come here pretty often,” melancholia dripping from her voice. She paused for a little while as if going over a mental checklist and said, “let’s go sit down there,” and pointed towards a vague place in the distance. 

They walked down the beach for a bit side by side, knuckles occasionally brushing against each other’s, making them want to hold hands, feel the warmth of another being. But the hesitance of the yet to be known, the uncertainty of a nameless stranger clouded their minds and prevented them from reaching out.

She stopped, sat down and gestured to him to do the same by tapping the cold sand beside her. He sat a bit too far for her liking so she huddled up closer to him saying, “You blaze right?”

“Sure.”

“Cool,” she said, taking out a small bag from an inside pocket of her coat, “keep an eye out for me while I roll it.”

They sat in silence as she rolled a joint meticulously. The waves kept crashing on the shore as if fulfilling some ancient duty. Wind rustled through the empty beach. Sand glimmered sporadically under the warm light of the moon, creating a transcendental atmosphere.

He sighed and thought out loud, interrupting the intoxicating stillness of the night, “Where do we go from here?”

“Other than plotting the murder of Sam, I don’t know about me,” she replied without looking up from the task at hand, “Don’t really wanna think about it tonight. That’s why I took you along with me. I wanted someone to keep me distracted from my thoughts and I had no one to go to...then you came to apologize, like my knight in shining armor.”

He smiled wryly and said, “I see.”

“What about you? What are you gonna do about your not fitting in or what was it?”

“I don’t know either. I just miss my people. I’m not meant for here, I think.”

“So can’t you go back there? To your home I assume?”

“I can...”

“Then go. Why the fuck would you stick around if you had the option to go back?”

“Maybe.”

“Huh! I wish I had a home to go back to too.”

She could see him from the corner of her eyes, clenching his knees tight with his fingers at her words, bringing them closer to his chest. She looked up to see him staring at her with his big, beautiful, hurt-puppy eyes.

“Did that make you sad or something?” she asked, almost amused. 

“Yeah...yeah it did.”

His apparent empathy for a literal stranger who also punched him not so long ago struck her as odd and oddly enticing. He looked unreal to her in the strange moonlight, as if a remote but vivid memory. She felt as though if she reached out and touched him, he’d turn to dust and drift off with the wind. Those intense eyes and his fey beauty were getting too much for her to bear so she averted her gaze towards the ocean and said, “There’s no use for your or anyone’s sadness. You see, sadness changes nothing. Unless you can start a capital R revolution tomorrow, everything will be the same. It’ll be the same day with slight variations over and over again, things will repeat and go on and on and on until one day humanity just goes poof somehow and then the universe will go on as if we never even happened. There’s no significance of our lives, there’s no point in feeling sad about anything in this set up. One must always imagine Sisyphus happy.”

“That’s quite pessimistic, isn’t it?”

“Kinda absurdist actually, but It’s hard not to be pessimistic or defensive, when you have to lead a life like mine.”

“I understand.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do, “Glamour Boy,’” she said, licking the rolling paper.

He put his hand over his chest and feigned being hurt which made her laugh; a clear, hearty laughter. The beach echoed with a faint sound of the laughter of two stray souls as he joined in.

The joint hanged from her lips, sensual and reckless like an erotic magazine model, burning bright as she took a long drawn-out drag.

“Say, do you think the water is cold?” she said, passing the joint to him.

He took in a drag, inhaling some of her used up smoke with it too, tasting her cheap but obscenely sweet fruity lip gloss at the filter tip, “Yeah...very much so”.

She huddled up even closer to feel the heat of his body as he passed the joint back to her. Taking in another drag, she leisurely put her head on his shoulder.

The sedating smoke sank into their lungs as the sand anchored them from floating off in the elating static of the enveloping darkness.

------------

“Is this it?” she said, pulling up to a posh apartment complex, something she wouldn’t be able to afford even after paying off her debts. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” he replied absently and unbuckled his seatbelt. 

She was looking ahead at the road, expecting him to get out of the car, but he sat in silence. She looked at him and saw him laid back on the seat as if being consumed by it, tracing the edge of the left air vent softly with his fingers. He sighed and said, still looking at his busy fingers: “I feel strange and fucking awful.”

“It happens sometimes after coming down a high.”

“It’ll be a pain in the arse going to bed feeling like this.”

“I know,” her eyes travelled down the flow of his posture, giving birth to an urge of some aboriginal origin in her loins, “but you don’t have to.” 

He turned his head towards her slowly, lethargy clear in his slow breathing pattern, “What do you mean?”

“Push your seat back.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

He furrowed his brows, alarmed by her sudden gratuitous command. He looked at her; motionless as if not even breathing awaiting his compliance and her eyes glinted with expectancy. He pushed his seat back, as far as it could go then parted his lips to say something but before the words could get out, she virtually jumped on top then sat astride him.

 A deathly stillness engrossed the car as her previous bellicose energy returned to the atmosphere, only this time rather ardent in nature. His heart, instantaneously racing, almost audible to her. 

“You know,” she said taking off her top, “dopamine is a hormone and neurotransmitter that’s an important part of your brain’s reward system, and it can elevate your mood and make you feel really good.”

Eyes wide with surprise, he struggled to keep his gaze fixed on her face as she unbuttoned his shirt. Her fingertips snaked up and down his smooth chest as if caressing a sumptuous painting one is not allowed to touch. She felt his taut muscle tighten at her touch, veins kindled with a hot rush pulsing under. Burying her face in the hollow of his neck, she felt the heat of his body as she pressed her chest against his. His breathing picked up it’s pace even more at the contact with her flushed skin.

“Do you ever get lonely?” she spoke up letting her lips skim over his bare shoulder.

“Terribly,” his voice breathy as he placed his hands on her hips hesitantly, not possessively, but affectionately.

“I do too.”

“What do we do about it?”

“Maybe we don’t do anything.”

“Maybe.” he said resting his right cheek against her head, “or maybe we keep each other company.”

“But for how long?”

“However long we need to.”

A mirthless laugh rippled from her lips then through his skin. She pulled back to look him in the eyes, curious green mixed with an unfamiliar kind of sorrow, a sorrow too costly for her. “Lust and attraction shut off the prefrontal cortex of the brain, which includes rational behavior,” she said, knocking softly on his temple.

“Makes sense.”

Cupping his face, she stroked his swollen lips with her rough thumbs, making him wince in response. The purple bruise steadily forming on the side of his mouth marred his flawless complexion yet his allure only enhanced. Her thumb rubbed on the bruise with reckless abandon, his flinches testifying to that. Withdrawing her hands from his face, she left a light peck on the bruise and said, “Slap me.”

“What?”

“Slap me, come on, I'm giving you a chance to get back at me for earlier.”

“No!”

“Prude!”

“Hey! I just don’t want to hurt you, especially not as revenge or what not,” he sounded genuinely offended.

She leaned in, “But I want to get hurt, silly,” her lips ghosting over his as she whispered, “Endorphins are our body’s natural pain reducer and it so happens to increase when we engage in reward-producing activities, such as eating, working out, or having sex.” She pulled away and continued, “So hit me. Hard.” His adam’s apple bobbed up then down as he searched at her face, as if trying to find some sort of sign. His fingers dug in her hips, indicating the upcoming crude impact. Her palms laid flat against his chest as his left hand rose then crashed against her face. Her fingers curled in response as she gasped weakly, eyes shut closed but the tensity clear in the lines on her eyelids and forehead. 

“Ah... that was good,” she said as if talking to herself, caressing her cheek. When she opened her eyes, she found him staring with uncertain eyes, the doubt readable in the way he bit his lips. 

“Just like that, once more,” her firm voice ringed in the vehicle. His hand cruelly collided once again with her face, leaving her face warm and red. 

“Good boy,” she cooed as the sharp sting eddied on her cheek and then through her whole body, easing her off some unknown yet intrinsic discomfort. Her chest pounded in sync to his as she spoke up, “Do it for me once again, won’t you?”

Pressing his teeth even deeper into his lips, he struck her once again, with as much strength as he had. A white light flashed before her eyes, her ears ringed as she sat in silence for a bit. When her vision became clear, she held his face between her palms. Leaning closer, she rested her temple against his and murmured, “Such a good boy.”

Sweat dripped down as her nose grazed up the side of his neck, she could feel him growing hard through his pants. She buried her face in his curls and breathed in. He smelt sugary, sweet to the extent of almost making her nauseous. She whispered against his ear, “You’ve got a boner...it turned you on this much to hurt me?”

“It’s, um, n-not really that part it’s the -” he stammered in embarrassment.

 “Ugh men,” she cut him off and rolled her eyes playfully. “But since we’ve got a situation at hand, and you’ve been so good to me, I think you deserve some relief for yourself,” she said, tugging at his waistband. To which he responded eagerly, elevating his hips just enough so she could slip his pants off as much as possible. His head sank back into the headrest as her hands wrapped around his cock. Her hand gilded up and down his length as her other hand ran through his hair, pulling lightly. Resting his forehead on her shoulder, he quivered and moaned softly as she lovingly yet mercilessly worked on him. His breath hitched sharply as she stroked the tip of his cock with her thumb, making him groan and twitch under her touch. She was about to pick up the pace when he grabbed her wrist abruptly. “Wait!” he rasped, “I wanna...feel you.”

He panted, trying to catch his breath and said, “Let’s take this inside, there might be people around.”

“Why? Are you afraid of getting photographed with a hooker by the paparazzi, Mr. Actor?"

“No”, he answered, the same hurt as earlier could be heard in his voice, the type of hurt when one is misunderstood by someone they love, “I just - I just want it to be nice.”

“Let’s not make it too nice lest you fall in love with me,” she said sternly. “Besides, you should be more concerned about getting STDs. There should be some condoms in the glove box and also tissues for later.”

He brought his face closer to hers, looked at her lips and said, “You’ve got such a mean mouth, you know that?”

“And you like it?”

“Perhaps”, he replied then kissed her, deeply. Holding her face in his head, he bit her lips which made her moan in his mouth. After running out of breath she pulled away, still tasting his saliva on her tongue as he reached behind her and rifled through the glove compartment. Having found what he wanted, he turned on the radio then returned his focus to her; she was hiking up her dress and awkwardly slipping off her panties in the short space.

Heavy bass filled the car, I wanna be your vacuum cleaner breathing in your dust, as the sky started to light up with shades of azure and tangerine. Her tongue blended with his as she took his cock in her. Their bodies pressed and flushed against each other as a steady rhythm flowed through them. Her nails scratched his nape, as he kissed her neck, nibbling at her collarbone. Her head shot back as he thrust up into her, frantic and keen. His groans muffled in her chest, her moans melting into his hair as their hips clashed against one another.

Maybe I just wanna be yours.

I wanna be yours.

------------   

The sparkling rays of the breaking dawn illuminated his face as he cleaned himself off and got dressed. She marveled from the driver’s seat at the magnificence of the sight of him in afterglow. There was something in him, something innate, that made him stand out from anyone she ever came across. He was made for the screen, he was made to shine, and she wondered whether or not he’ll remember her afterwards. It was for the better if he didn’t, she thought to herself, as this was probably one of the lowest points in his life, while that night was most definitely one of the highlights of hers. The sheer dichotomy was glaring at her soul when he spoke up, bringing her attention back to the present, “I was wondering if you’d like to -”

“Look if you want my name or number, then that’s just not gonna happen,” she said with a sigh, “It’s the oxytocin flooding your brain. Increased levels of oxytocin facilitate attachment and bonding and shit so, like, don’t be fooled.”

“But it’s not that, I feel a connection between us...something I haven’t felt with anyone here before.”

He averted his eyes from her and looked out the window. His hand lingered on the door handle for a second before he stepped out of the car. Turning his back towards the car, he walked into the apartment complex, without saying anything further. Her foot pressed on the accelerator, as the car drove past the buildings. A Parliament washed out the leftover taste of him in her mouth as she rolled down the window to let the nauseously sweet scent dissipate into the cold morning air. 

“It is that. Believe me, I know. There is nothing between us. Whatever connection you feel is your hormones doing bullshit things.”

“You’re just evading me”

“I’m not. I do actually know. Okay, for instance you feel really tired and sleepy right now, right?”

“Yeah”

“That’s the parasympathetic nervous system down-regulating your body and a shit load of vasopressin coursing through you”

“But that could also be because we stayed up all night and got high and just had sex”

“Why don’t you understand? It’s all chemicals, everything! There is nothing called love and whatever the fuck people feel is just their chemicals doing somersaults. There is nothing between us, we don’t know each other. There can be nothing either, look at the circumstances. People like you shouldn’t have to do anything with people like me unless it requires a monetary transaction.”

“But i can help, with whatever you’re dealing with”, he said reaching to place his hand over hers, “we can help each other”

“and what exactly do you think i’m dealing with?, she asked, withdrawing her hand, eyes narrowed at him.

“I don’t know yet”

“Exactly. You don’t know anything. I’m not some sad little girl who went to college then got depressed but in a sexy way so maybe she did drugs or whatever and dropped out and now strips for fucking aesthetic reasons probably. No honey, I’m involved with shit that can drag you down faster than a meth withdrawal and my life is a living testimony of that, take my word for it. So, go get some rest. Sleep out your saviour complex and live out your promising life when you wake up.”

[karalovesallthegirls]

“Is this going to become unpleasant? Having Kara here?” “I’m not a child, Arthur. I can be in the same room as my ex-wife without causing a scene.”

“I know, dear, I know,” he soothes in that grating voice of his. “I just want you to be comfortable.” His grip on her arm is anything but. She smiles through the discomfort like always and places a hand affectionately on his chest. “I’m certainly not comfortable,” some old hag Lex invited chimes in. “I can’t believe they even let that creature in here.” It takes all of Lena’s self-restraint not to deck her clear across the face. To stand there with a placid smile while her present company disparage the woman she’d once vowed to have and to hold till death. It’s been a year since the divorce and it hasn’t gotten any easier.

“Now now, can we please be civil?” she hears behind her, and again she’s forced to focus all her energy on maintaining an air of indifference as her darling brother arrives. “That thing was Lena’s wife for a while, after all.” His smile is anything but kind, his figure imposing as he steps in close. “Yes, well,” Lena says with a passable smile, “we all make mistakes, right?” Arthur laughs and the hag laughs and Lex puts a brotherly arm around her to pull her in close, close enough to whisper against her ear without drawing attention, “Let’s not make anymore, hmm?”

He squeezes her so hard he nearly breaks skin.

-------------

Their story goes like this: They fall into a mad sort of love, one that consumes and surrounds and heals. They marry in the spring with flowers in their hair.

They finalize their divorce before the leaves brown and fall.

-------------

Lena manages to avoid Kara for most of the night.

Partially by her own efforts, partially from Arthur intervening. No one wants another Lena-Kara cat fight, not tonight at least. While it can be fun to watch the former spouses quibble over politics, tonight is meant to be a celebration honoring the most important thing in this world, something so important no drama should overpower it: Lex. Lex is running for senate. They announced it earlier in the week to great approval and support. Arthur figures he’ll spend a few years working the senate before making a bid for president. They’ve already written the campaign slogans.

“I’m so honored you all came here to join me for this momentous occasion,” he says, and he smiles at the crowd with equal parts affection and disgust, though perhaps only Lena can recognize that second part. “We stand here now at the precipice of a historic moment – an end to the horrendous occupation of our planet. To freedom from otherworldly invaders.” As if on cue, all eyes turn to Kara. The lone alien in a room full of bigots. Everyone knows who Kara is, of course. Even those who somehow missed the great identity reveal know her by her scars. Even in the face of hatred, she stands tall. Unwavering. Staring down the man who wishes for her demise.

“It’s amazing, the hubris. We can’t even have a moment’s peace at a banquet, can we?” Lex says, earning a round of laughter. Lena stares steadily ahead at him. She can’t stand to look at Kara right now. “I’m here as a concerned citizen, Mr. Luthor. Nothing more.” “Of course, as a citizen,” his voice drips with disdain. “Well then please, stay. I support all of my great state’s citizens. I’m a man of the people, after all. I represent all of my human constituents, but please. Enjoy the lobster.” The night moves past that temporary discomfort, and Lena almost finds herself settling into it when, of course, her ex-wife approaches.

“Mrs. Danvers,” Kara greets her, and she rolls her eyes like always. “Always a pleasure to see you.” “It’s Ms. Luthor now, Supergirl. Surely your alien memory can recall our divorce.” “My mistake. Sometimes I forget you’re really a Luthor,” she smiles, like she’s trying to joke with her. “You’ve got so much hair, after all. Your genes haven’t quite kicked in yet.”

Lena doesn’t smile. Doesn’t do anything more than stare. She can see Arthur in her peripheral vision stepping closer, but she holds a hand up to stop him. No need to cause a scene.

“Do you need something or are you just here to harass me?”

Kara just shakes her head, stepping back. “I apologize. Just wanted to say hello to an old friend before I left.”

“We aren’t friends, Supergirl. Feel free to leave now,” Lena sneers with a dismissive wave of her fingers. That is finally what does it – Kara gives her one forlorn glance before exiting the ballroom. The crowd around Lena snicker as she departs, and Arthur lays a too-large hand down on her shoulder.

"Security should have never let her in, love,” he says, genuinely apologetic. “What do you say we forget this unpleasantness and dance?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. He takes her hand and leads her out to the dance floor and she smiles at him, with the burn of unshed tears at the back of her eye, and together they dance.

-------------

This is how their story plays out to the public: Lena Luthor marries Kara Danvers and, unknowingly, she marries Supergirl.

Kara Danvers is Supergirl – something she didn’t know, something the world didn’t know until human hero Lex Luthor reveals it. When he heroically saves her from her mistake. Everything she has built as a human crumbles in one fell swoop. The legality of her marriage – the legitimacy – is questioned. How could an alien love a Luthor? How could a Luthor love a Super? Should humans and aliens even be allowed to marry?

Lex Luthor is released from prison with a pardon, and the anti-alien movement gains traction alongside him. There’s talk of voting out the Alien Amnesty Act and making public its list of intergalactic immigrants.

Lena files for a divorce, one the press lovingly reports on how it is in no way amicable. Kara Danvers stops existing as a reporter, as a person.

Lena takes her place beside Lex, leaves everything she ever built with Kara behind. She takes back up the mantle of Luthor and all that it entails. The world sinks back into its own bigotry, rolls back rights hard won. Lena falls in love with someone new – Arthur White. A family friend and loyal employee of Lex Corp. Gossip magazines love to talk about their romance, but always mention that Lena wants to take things slow. She’s in no hurry to tie the knot again.

When asked, Lena denies ever knowing Kara was an alien.

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Lena finds a moment’s solace in the bathroom.

There’s something soothing about the rhythmic routine of scrubbing soap into her skin, under her nails, over and over like maybe the motion will be enough to fully wash her clean. She hasn’t felt clean in a long time. The bathroom door opens behind her but she hardly notices, too focused on her ritual.

“Lex is always such a charmer,” she hears from behind her, and of course. Of course, it’s the person she’s so adamantly avoided all night. Of course, they’re alone together. Not that Lena is ever alone anymore. “Sometimes I almost even buy the crap he says.”

“You know, I told Arthur I didn’t need to extend our restraining order but you’re making me think that maybe I should,” Lena says without looking up from her hands. Again and again she rubs them together under the water, scrubbing until her skin turns red. “You need to leave.”

Kara doesn’t leave. Worse, she locks the door and slowly approaches.

Lena looks up at her reflection in the mirror in alarm, eyes wide in terror, and she shakes her head frantically, mouthing ‘no’ repeatedly as Kara draws ever closer. Kara pulls out an earpiece from her ear and holds it up to Lena’s. “Listen,” Kara whispers. Her front presses gently against Lena’s back, bumping her into the sink. Lena grips the sink in a white-knuckled hold.

Through the earpiece, soft echo of someone quietly sobbing plays out. “Brainy’s looping this audio over your bug,” Kara whispers against her other ear. “They can’t hear us. To them it just sounds like you’re crying alone in the bathroom.”

“You can’t be sure,” Lena barely breathes out even as she sinks back against her former spouse. “Lex-” “Isn’t listening. I promise. Trust me.”

That really is all it takes. Lena will always trust Kara.

She’s turning and shoving before Kara can say another word, pressing her against the wall with a desperate kiss. It’s frantic and dirty, both of them gripping at each other like they don’t know where to touch, like any minute someone will catch them and it’ll all be over. “Baby,” Kara breathes against her lips, and Lena nearly melts. “My love.” Lena just moans in reply. Licks into her mouth, desperate, trying to work her hand underneath Kara’s gown, trying to take advantage of every second she’s allowed to be near her, but they’re both distracted by the rapid beeping coming from Kara’s communicator.

“We’re out of time,” Kara gasps against her. Lena shudders at the feel of her lips moving against her own. “Dammit, dammit!”

She pushes away from Lena with an anguished sigh, running a hand over her mouth. Lena leans heavily against the bathroom stall trying to catch her breath. “We have twenty seconds until the loop ends,” Kara announces, looking at her cellular device.  “Listen, I’m going to come for you, okay? This isn’t over. Don’t give up. We just need a little more time but he is not going to win. Just stay strong, my love, okay? You have to believe me.”

She kisses Lena’s forehead, then her mouth. Lena tugs her in for a longer, frantic kiss, like she’s scared to let her go. “I love you,” Lena says, because she doesn’t believe it. She doesn’t believe they can beat him. But she does believe in this: “I love you so much, Kara.” Kara kisses her again, then again, then the beeping becomes too much to ignore. With one last, lingering look, she turns and vanishes in a quick gust of wind, leaving Lena alone in the bathroom. She takes just a few moments to get herself back together. Wipes her face clean, her eyes dry. Washes her hands once more. When she steps out, Arthur is there waiting. He holds his arm out for her to take, and she loops hers through it. His grip is tight as he leads her back towards the main hall. “Crying in the bathroom?” he says, voice low. “How embarrassing, Lena.” The mask she wears falls back into place at that as the high of Kara is shattered. “We all have moments of weakness, Arthur. Let’s just go back to the party.” And so they go.

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Theirs is the story of two factions facing off in a cultural war.  

This is how their story goes for years and years, told through newsprint and blog posts and gossip whispered on the streets. Their story of lovers turned enemy, of humanity versus the other. Luthor and Super, alien and human.

But the real story, the truth hidden by all the gossip and hearsay, is so much worse. Beneath it all, theirs is a love story.

[twistedtummies2]

Descending From the Sky - Part 1 (500 Followers Special)

IN CELEBRATION OF 500 FOLLOWERS...! (freezes as someone whispers in my ear) ...Eh? You...say I have 509 now? ...Frick. WELL, BETTER LATE THAN NEVER! Something a lot of people have wanted me to write - on this site as well as an alternate site I frequent - is a “rampage story.” You know the type: macro-sized predator goes stomping around eating people and causing destruction in their wake. I have several ideas for such tales, though most of them are still in the “pre-production” stages.  I decided to go with the one that could offer me the clearest possible plot, and which I know a few people were hoping to see: this is the third chapter in my Giant AU for My Hero Academia, based on Jack and the Beanstalk. In the past two sections, Midoriya and Kaminari went up to see the Giants. THIS time, however, one of the giants comes down to Earth themselves.  I mustn’t say more though, or I shall spoil the fun. This is a two-parter; part two will be up tomorrow. As is typical, this first section is mostly just expository stuff and...well...actual STORY than anything else. Most of the “fun stuff” will be in tomorrow’s second half. Keeping this in mind, I hope you all enjoy, and thank you for the support!

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Three months had passed since Izuku Midoriya and Denki Kaminari had descended from the beanstalk with the Golden Eggs.

The result of their fortunate adventures were plainly visible: the farm where they both lived had become far more prosperous. The fields had been able to widen, as their master, Aizawa, had been able to hire new farmhands, buy new equipment, and even purchase a new cow for milking! (Although Izuku couldn’t help but notice how much whiter Milky White’s output had always been.) The farmhouse had been repaired, and plans were in motion to construct a larger building, all while a second barn was being built to house all the new supplies. Over all of this rising splendor towered the magnificent beanstalk...and on the unusually hot morning where our story begins, the boys were very glad about that. Kaminari sighed as he paused in his work, wiping his brow with a spotted handkerchief before stuffing it back into his pocket. Though the boys could afford nice clothes, they usually wore their old peasant garb while working After all, there was no point in ruining the good stuff. “Y’know something, Midoriya?” he mumbled out, looking up. Midoriya paused, putting down his hammer and looking down at Kaminari. His expression was wide-eyed and attentive. Kaminari huffed, leaning against the side of the shed the two were in the process of building. “Life doesn’t make sense sometimes.” “Yeah, that’s a fact,” Midoriya said, with a small smile, and chuckled, turning his freckled face back towards his work. He was standing on a ladder and tapping nails into place to hold the roof boards. Kaminari was holding the nails in a jar, and passing them up, and was supposed to be holding the ladder. In that moment, however, the distracted blonde was more focused on the jar, biting his lip as he stirred the nails boredly. The pair had been alternating positions every couple of boards, since, obviously, it was a lot more work to hammer than to hold. Not that the heat made either of the stations particularly fun. Kaminari tried to get a bit of shade from the side of the shed, but as the Sun was facing in the wrong direction, there was no shade to be had. “What I mean is,” Denki went on, “I thought all this extra stuff would make our lives easier: a little less of a workload on us. Instead, it feels like we haven’t a chance to just...you know...breathe.” “I know,” Midoriya murmured, pausing in his work and dipping his head. “Nor a chance to visit our friends ‘upstairs.’” “Friend. Singular,” Kaminari corrected. “Unless you count that mean man-eater as a friend…” Both of the teens shuddered, and Kaminari even crossed himself. Midoriya shook his head and refocused on hammering as Kaminari passed up another nail, and made sure to grab hold of the ladder with one hand. He didn’t want Midoriya to fall over. For one thing, it would be kind of embarrassing if either of them broke an arm falling from a ladder after managing to climb up and down a mammoth beanstalk and never tumble once.

“Mr. Aizawa says that after this is built, we should be able to rest a bit,” Midoriya said, with a bright-eyed smile that made his green irises look like emeralds. “Maybe we’ll get to go back up there in a couple weeks.”

“Maybe,” murmured Kaminari, and frowned. “Hey, do you think he’s giving us extra work to keep us from going up there?” Midoriya frowned and turned carefully on the ladder, looking to the beanstalk, then looking over the farmland...and shook his head again, this time in disagreement. “No,” he answered, and continued hammering; the boards were hard and the nails long. “With everything going on, I think we can give him the benefit of the doubt there. There’s just...so much expansion, with all the buying and selling we’ve been doing…” “I’m glad he let us keep those Golden Eggs!” grinned Kaminari. “They look cool in the bedroom.” Midoriya nodded wordlessly in agreement, and began to descend the ladder. It was Kaminari’s turn to take care of the next few boards-and-nails. “We’ll get back there soon,” he said. “Things just have to get harder before they get easier.” “That’s one way of looking at it,” shrugged Kaminari, giving Midoriya the nail jar as he took the hammer. He bit his lip and looked off to the side. Midoriya tilted his head, concerned by the unhappy expression on his friend’s face. “Hey...something else wrong?” he asked. “Just...when I went up there last time…” Kaminari trailed off...took a breath...and shook his head. “Never mind,” he said, and smiled. “Let’s just get back to work. The faster we finish, the faster we can get inside where it’s cool.” Midoriya looked skeptical, but before he could answer, a voice interrupted the pair… “It’s going to take a little longer than expected to do that.” The boys looked up. The baggy-eyed figure of Aizawa was approaching the pair. The teens stiffened, almost as if standing at attention. “Good morning, Master!” they chorused, as if speaking to a drill sergeant. Aizawa rolled his eyes and made a grumpy sound. He made a lot of those. “Relax, you’re not in trouble. Yet,” he mumbled, then went on a bit more clearly: “I need you two to stop work on the shed today. There’s another job for you both now.” The teens looked at each other, then back to the head farmer. “Um...no offense, sir,” Midoriya spoke up, and sounded sincerely polite and curious as he spoke, “But why not get one of the others to do it?” “Or do it yourself?” suggested Kaminari, in the same tone. Neither sounded defiant, just a little confused. Aizawa crossed his arms and sighed through his nose, looking out over the farmland, watching the new helpers hoe and shovel and rake away… “I have to stay,” he said, simply and strictly. “And as for the rest of the farmhands…” He looked back to the pair somewhat earnestly. “...I trust you both more than most of them.” The two boys practically had stars in their eyes. “You...you trust us?” peeped Midoriya. “Really?” Kaminari gasped. Aizawa narrowed his eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head,” he droned, drably. “I trust Mineta more than you both, and he’s a donkey. And I trust my dog more than I trust him.” The pair ducked their heads with nervous, bashful smiles. Kaminari scratched the back of his head, kicking an imaginary pebble, while Midoriya rubbed one arm, trying to look anywhere but into Aizawa’s face. Aizawa rolled his eyes and then cleared his throat. “Ahem...the new help has loaded the wagon with produce to take to market,” he informed the pair. “Change clothes and hitch the horse up, then take it all. And this time, PLEASE don’t try to trade anything on the way for Magic Beans. One big green liability is enough.” He looked to Midoriya pointedly with those words. Midoriya gulped guiltily. “We’ll do our best, Master,” Kaminari promised, and slung an arm around Midoriya as he gave a cocky grin. “Just leave it to us! We’ll come back with more money than you can shake a stick at! Although I don’t know why you’d want to…” Aizawa just made another grumpy sort of sound and paused before going on… “Mind your way through the forest. Don’t stray from the path. Keep the cart moving on its course: some of the new boys have said they’ve encountered robbers in the woods, ever since…” He pointed up towards the clouds indicatively. “We’ll be careful, Mr. Aizawa,” vowed Midoriya, then looked to Kaminari. “C’mon, let’s get moving!” The duo folded up the ladder, and darted off to put away their tools before getting ready for the journey to market. Aizawa watched them go, then looked back to the partially finished shed, then turned his gaze heavenward. He glared as he looked at the top of the beanstalk...or, at least, the furthest point he could see, as it disappeared beyond the blue sky’s crest. He shook his head and pinched his brow as he walked off to see about feeding the chickens. “This place has never been the same,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t mind so much if I could decide if that was good or bad…”

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Meanwhile, in the Land of the Giants… “Sure you’ll be okay while I’m gone?” The red-haired, fang-toothed giant known as Kirishima looked with concern to his friend. His fellow titan, Bakugou, narrowed his own crimson eyes, a sour expression on his face as he lounged on a sofa in their living room. “Hell’s that s’posed to mean?” he sneered. “What do you think’s gonna happen while I’m here?” Kirishima opened his mouth to answer...then closed it again. “...Never mind,” he shrugged, and gave a cheerful smile as he slung the leather backpack over his back. “Anyway, I better get going. Tamaki’s probably gonna get all anxious if I’m late; start thinking if I still wanna be his friend, and so on…” “Tch,” Bakugou scoffed, and took a sip of the coffee he held in his hand. “How come you hang out with that wuss anyway? He’s softer than you are!” “Hey, you can’t pick your friends!” “Yes, you can,” droned Bakugou, boredly. “It’s family. You can’t pick your family.” “That, too.” Bakugou blinked slowly, his expression tremendously dull as he took another drink. “Whatever. It’ll be nice to not have your dumb hair poisoning my vision,” he grumbled. “Yeah, I’ll miss you, too,” Kirishima chuckled. Bakugou just grunted, taking yet another drink. He licked his lips thinly as Kirishima tilted his head. “Hey...you certain you’re alright?” “What makes you think I’m not?” “I dunno...just...you’ve been a lot quieter lately. And you haven’t gone down to mess with the little guys in a couple of months. Not that I mind that at all…” He grinned. “Am I rubbing off on you a little, maybe?” “Dream on. I just haven’t had an appetite for ‘em.” “Uh-huh. Sure,” Kirishima mumbled, sounded unconvinced, and gave a smile. “Well...anyway, I’ll be back by tomorrow. Guard the house well!” “The fuck do you mean ‘guard the house well’?!” snapped Bakugou, barking out his annoyance. “DO I LOOK LIKE A DAMN GUARD DOG TO YOU?!” Kirishima sniggered, and responded with a jaunty mock-salute. Whistling merrily, the friendly giant thus left the house. Bakugou growled (ironically sounding VERY much like an angry guard dog), his fingers twitching around his coffee cup as he finished his drink. He stifled a burp in his ballooning cheeks - “HHHMMMRRRLLLRRRPH...grm…” - and swallowed the excess gas back down, thumping his bare chest with a beefy fist before rising to his feet. The Barbarian-garbed colossus then tromped back to the kitchen, cleaning his cup and putting it aside to drain and dry. In truth, there was something on Bakugou’s mind. Something that had been buzzing around in his brain for months, and had become increasingly more annoying. I climbed a beanstalk to the top of the sky...I befriended a giant, was able to hide from another...and I was able to make my whole village happy, and even the king...do you think anyone who’s ‘just meat’ could even think of all that? The giant ground his teeth together, fingers twitching again. “Worthless little runt,” he growled to himself. “What does he know?” The little one Kirishima called “Midoriya” wouldn’t leave his mind. He kept trying to force the small one’s words aside, but the pathetic rat wouldn’t get out of his head. It was starting to drive the titan insane. He’d spent his whole life eating humans. He was bigger, stronger, faster, and all around better than they were. It was the law of the jungle: they were SUPPOSED to fill his belly. It was just their fault they were so small and tasty! That’s how he’d always justified it. That’s how he’d always felt about it. And it wasn’t as if he ate indiscriminately. But now… Someones gotta knock some sense into you, Bakugou! You can’t just eat people, it’s...it’s not right! And if one of my friends is in danger...I’ve got to do whatever I can to help them! No matter what! Bakugou snarled, clenching his fists at his sides. The little vermin had guts. What he wouldn’t give to introduce them to HIS guts... Still...he hadn’t been down to eat in months now...and the truth was, what he’d told Kirishima was true. He just...hadn’t been in the mood to eat little people in a while. It was really starting to piss him off, because this had never happened before. They were his FAVORITE food...so what was holding him back? GRRROOORRRLLLB… Bakugou winced and hissed through his teeth, clapping a hand to his belly. His fingers rubbed over his bare, strong, well-sculpted abs as his stomach gurgled and “brumbled” noisily. So far, all he he’d had that morning was coffee. It seemed his gut was demanding something more substantial. For a moment, the thought of dozens of squirming little morsels flashed in his mind...but he shook that thought away with a toss of his messy blonde locks, and instead relaxed slightly as he stomped towards the icebox. “Something light oughta kill those damn noises,” he muttered coarsely. “Where’d I put those cold cuts…?”

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The wagon full of pumpkins, apples, cucumbers, potatoes, corn, and all sorts of other home-grown delights rattled along the semi-level road that twisted and twined its way through the forest. Kaminari sat beside Midoriya, who held the reins, while an old gray mare hauled the cart along at a steady trot. “Easy there, Chiyo,” Midoriya smiled gently, as the horse huffed softly, ears flicking at a noise from somewhere in the underbrush. “Just a jackrabbit.” “Hopefully,” mumbled Kaminari, then cocked his head to the left. “Say, Midoriya? Do you think we’ll run into that Yagi guy who gave you the Magic Beans?” “I doubt it,” Izuku said wistfully. “I get the feeling that was a one-time deal, or something.” “Hm. Got it,” Kaminari grunted, looking away again, a somewhat pensive, pondering look on his face. Midoriya’s smile faded. “Kaminari...seriously, what’s been bothering you?” “What do you mean?” “You’re thinking. A lot. That’s...very unusual for you.” “Hey. Thinking is dangerous. It can lead to headaches.” Midoriya smirked and chuckled, then paused, pulling the horse to a stop. “Come on,” he said, gently, placing the reins at his side nad putting a hand on Kaminari’s shoulder. “What’s wrong? Tell me.” Kaminari squirmed a bit uncomfortably. “We should keep going,” he said, quietly. “Aizawa said there were-” “We’ll be fine. Talk to me. We’re friends, right?” “Right...well, um...it’s just…” Kaminari took a deep breath, and let it out before speaking. “...I’ve felt...really bad ever since I went up the beanstalk.” “Bad as in sick?” “No, just...bad. Emotionally. I really messed things up, and I almost got killed for it. I was being greedy and stubborn and selfish, and...look, I still love money-” “And girls.” “Well, duh, girls are what make life worth living, and money helps there.” Midoriya sighed and rolled his eyes, still smiling. “But seriously,” Kaminari went on, shifting his position so he could look Midoriya in the face, “What I did was wrong and...well...kinda stupid, even for me. I wanna make up for it somehow, just...I don’t really know what to do. And with all the time that’s gone by-” “I forgive you.” Kaminari stopped short. “I forgive you,” Midoriya said, his smile gentle and friendly. “And I know Kirishima forgives you, too. If it makes you feel so bad, we’ll find a way to go up there and see if you can do something more. I wanna go back up there just as much as you do. But work’s gotta come first.” “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Kaminari sighed...then smirked, and adopted a dramatic pose, pointing forward. “Well...drive on, my good man!” Midoriya snickered at Kaminari’s over-the-top impression of a pompous nobleman. “Yes, My Lord,” he winked, and whipped the reins, clicking and calling out Chiyo’s name. Chiyo let out a soft whinny and began to move forward again. Kaminari paused to adjust his clothes: both he and Midoriya were dressed in sharp-looking coats and breeches, so they could look more presentable at the market. “Yellow and black are good colors,” smirked Kaminari, admiring the golden lining of his jacket. He grinned somewhat sneakily. “Hey, think I’ll impress a few ladies while we’re out?” Midoriya was about to respond...but before he could - and after the pair had only traveled about twenty or thirty yards - Chiyo suddenly let out a sharp cry and came to an equally sharp stop. “Whoa, whoa, girl!” called out Midoriya, and as the horse settled, he and Kaminari frowned and stood up in the wagon to see what was the matter. The pair were surprised by what they saw: a small girl, dressed in a somewhat ratty-looking white dress. She had metallic-colored hair, almost the color of steel, and red eyes that looked like a couple of fresh, ripe cherries. The girl was trembling slightly. Her eyes were wide and unblinking as she stared up at the pair. She didn’t move off the path, even as she stood. The two teens looked to each other, then back to the girl, and smiled. “Hello there!” Midoriya said kindly, and stepped down from the cart, while Kaminari stayed aboard and took the reins, just in case the old mare got a bit fidgety. The girl didn’t answer. She stayed still as Midoriya approached. His smile remained gentle and good-natured as he got down on one knee, bringing himself to the little girl’s height. “What is your name, little girl?” he asked, sweetly. The girl paused, blinking just once, before answering in a plaintive, soft voice: “Eri.” “Eri,” repeated Midoriya. “That’s a nice name.” He looked back to the wagon. “Don’t you think so, Kaminari?” “Oh, yeah. Short but pretty,” Denki nodded. Midoriya smiled a little wider, and looked back to Eri. “What are you doing out here, Eri?” he asked, carefully, and looked about with some small amount of worry. “Are your parents around?” Eri bit her lip and squirmed where she stood, looking away and hugging herself. “My...my papa needs help,” she admitted quietly, sounding almost ashamed of the words. “I...I heard your cart coming, and...c-could you...could you help me?” Midoriya frowned with concern. “Of course we’ll help,” he promised sincerely, and looked back to Kaminari. “Stay here with Chiyo and the market goods. I’m gonna see what’s going on, then we can figure out what to do.” “Gotcha,” Kaminari nodded. “Be quick though.” “I’ll try,” Midoriya said, then looked back to Eri with another kind, sweet smile. “C’mon, Eri...let’s go, okay?” He extended a hand...and to his surprised, Eri stepped back, letting out a tiny, timid whimper, as if she expected to be hit. Midoriya looked at his palm, then up at the little girl. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I won’t hurt you. Just...take my hand, and tell me where to go. Alright?” Eri blinked a few times, looking between Midoriya’s face and his hand...then, her own tiny, trembling fingers clasped about his. Midoriya smiled and stood up, holding firmly but carefully onto the young lady as she led him off the path into the forest. Kaminari, for his part, watched them go. Once they were out of sight, he reached into the cart and picked out a juicy yellow apple. No reason he couldn’t have a snack while he waited: there was plenty in the cart to sell at market, anyway. He checked the surrounding trees as he took a crunching bite from the fruit. He made sure to be alert; he didn’t want to make any mistakes. After all, if Aizawa was right, it wouldn’t be a good idea to let their guard down in the forest… While Kaminari dutifully and calmly guarded the wagon, Eri led Midoriya deeper and deeper into the untouched woods, away from the road. Midoriya looked back and frowned; the cart disappeared from sight behind him. “How far away is your father, Eri?” he asked. “And what happened to him?” Eri bit her lip, and paused, keeping her head down. As they stopped, Midoriya looked to her with concern. “Eri?” he checked, quietly. “Please answer me.” Eri let out a whimper...and, without warning, pulled her hand away from Midoriya’s, as if his touch burned her. He stepped back with some alarm as her tiny, frail shoulders began to shake. He could hear her starting to cry. “...You’re nice,” she said very, very softly. “No one...no one has been nice to me...in such a long time…” She gulped and looked up to the teen with misty eyes. “I’m so sorry.” No sooner had Eri uttered the words...then suddenly, someone leapt out from the bushes behind Midoriya and grabbed hold of him. Midoriya gasped and whirled to try and fight back...but another figure lunged from behind a tree and grabbed hold of his other arm. Izuku’s eyes widened: both of his attackers were strapping, masculine figures, dressed in long black robes, with plague doctor’s masks upon their faces. “Wh-What is this?!” he shouted, and struggled to break free. “Let...LET GO OF ME!” “Good work, Eri.” Midoriya froze as he heard the words...and his eyes widened as a third figure stepped out from behind another tree, moving over to Eri’s side. They placed a dark-gloved hand on the girl’s shoulder; she whined like a kicked puppy and shuddered, clearly repulsed but unwilling to move away from the figure’s touch. This figure wore a long green coat, lined with unusual violet fur. He, too, wore a plague doctor’s mask...but this one was not the plain ivory visage the two strikers wore. His was decorated in red and gold, and covered only everything below his eyes. The golden eyes in question narrowed, a supercilious gleam in them. “Very good work, my daughter,” the voice behind the mask intoned. “Thank you for helping us, Izuku Midoriya. We have much to discuss.” The figure then pointed off in another direction, and uttered one command to the two cloaked men: “Take him!” “KAMINARI!” Midoriya yelled at the top of his lungs, struggling harder as one of the two attackers pulled a short club out of their robes. “KAMINARI! KAMINAR-!” WHACK! The world became fuzzy and filled with plain. Midoriya’s voice slurred unhealthily. “...K-Kamin-ar-i…” WHACK! Izuku knew no more. However, his cries had not gone unheard. Kaminari jolted as he heard Midoriya call to him with what sounded like real panic, the apple dropping from his hands and rolling across the dirt. It stopped right in front of the gray mare, who, thinking it was a treat, nibbled it happily. It was a lucky thing the apple distracted the horse, because the moment Kaminari heard the calls stop just as suddenly as they had come, he was on the move. He bounced off the wagon and bounded into the woods, calling back as he ran in the direction he’d seen Eri taking Midoriya. “MIDORIYA! MIDORIYA, I’M COMING!” Naturally, he was too late. Kaminari skidded to a halt, his expression horror struck, as he saw a second wagon not so far ahead...but this was no produce cart drawn by a farmer’s horse. Instead, it was a prison wagon, a cage-cart drawn by two black horses. He saw the driver’s plague doctor mask glint in the sunlight, and heard them laugh jeeringly as they whipped the horses up...then, the wagon rolled out of sight. Just before it disappeared, he caught sight of Midoriya, slumped over in the prisoner’s cage...alongside Eri and another figure he couldn’t rightly make out. Once it was gone, Kaminari stood stock still for several seconds, processing with dread what he had just witnessed...then, cursing under his breath, he dashed back through the woods to his own cart. Chiyo had just finished her apple, and let out a startled sound as the blonde-haired, yellow-eyed youth leapt back into the driver’s seat, tugging and cracking the reins. “C’mon, old girl!” he shouted. “We have to get back to the farm! This is an emergency!” The horse neighed, and the cart was soon turned around. Then, with another crack and a click, Kaminari rode the rattling wagon back down the road towards Aizawa’s farm as fast as he could…

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“Kidnapped?!” “Yeah!” Kaminari confirmed, emphatically. “I saw it happen, Mr. Aizawa! They were riding off with him; I couldn’t hope to catch up in time!” Aizawa grinded his teeth; a look of intense worry burned in his eyes. “Which way were they going?” he demanded, standing up from his desk in the room Kaminari had found him in. “South? West?” “East,” Kaminari replied. “Due East, no doubt of it.” “And you said the driver of the cart wore a plague doctor’s mask?” “Yes, sir!” Aizawa sighed. “There’s no doubt of it then,” he murmured, in an ominous tone of mortal dread. “He’s being taken to Yakuza.” Kaminari gulped nervously. Everyone in the Kingdom of Ua knew about Yakuza: it was one of two neighboring kingdoms, which had been feuding with the land for years on end. It was ruled by the evil King Kai; its armies were ruthless, and its defenses plentiful. While outright war had not been done in many years, relations between the kingdoms were still intensely...well...tense, to say the least. No one in Ua ever went to Yakuza...and lived to tell about it. “Wh-why would they take Midoriya?” Kaminari almost whimpered. “I can make a few guesses,” growled Aizawa curtly, as he dressed himself in his best hat and coat and looked to Kaminari. “I’m going to to take the new stallion to the castle. I have friends among the King’s Knights, they might be able to help us.” “I’ll go with you!” “No,” ordered Aizawa. “You stay here. I already have one of you in danger. I’m not getting you into any more trouble, and I don’t want you causing it, either.” “But I want to help!” “I know,” sighed Aizawa. “But this is no time for rash action!” “This is the PERFECT time for rash action!” Kaminari almost screamed out. “They took Izuku, and who knows what they’re gonna-?!” He stopped short at a burning, searing glare from Aizawa. He ducked his head and looked away. “...I’m...I’m sorry…” “Stay. Here,” Aizawa commanded, then added more softly, “Please.” Kaminari said nothing, but remained where he was. Aizawa looked the blonde haired boy over a time or two...then sighed again and shook his head, before hustling out of the house. There wasn’t a moment to lose. For a time, Kaminari stayed perfectly still where he stood. He listened. He waited. And the instant he heard the sound of Aizawa whistling to his horse, and the sound of the horse hooves galloping off into the distance...his eyes lifted. He looked to the beanstalk outside...and then moved to Aizawa’s desk. He hastily pulled out a small piece of parchment, and scribbled a message onto it. You said to leave you a note next time, the message read. I’m sorry, Master. I have to help my friend. I have to make up for my mistakes. Signed, Kaminari. With this managed, Kaminari clambered out of the open window, and crept towards the mighty beanstalk. He glanced from side to side, to make sure no one was looking...then, without another thought, he latched onto its based, grabbed hold of its stems and leaves...and began, once more, the long climb up...Up...UP…

“I’ll save you, Midoriya,” he promised, as he soon climbed up past the roof of the house, and kept right on climbing. “I’ll save you...one way or another…”

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“UUUURRRRRRRROOOORRRRRPH...mph...weak…” Bakugou snorted as he lounged back on the couch in the den of his and Kirishima’s home. His stomach was ever so slightly distended; just enough to make the strong, deep crevices between his six-pack muscles a little less well-defined, a clear but very small curve of fullness along his middle. One of his hands was resting upon his gut, covering his deep, black navel. He didn’t rub his stomach, didn’t scratch it...simply let his hand rest there, the limb rising and falling as his gut moved with his breathing. The ogre’s other arm was slung behind his messy-haired head as he glared with his usual, grouchy scowl at the ceiling, red eyes smoldering as he seemed to look through the ceiling itself...thinking and thinking. The (relatively) light meal he’d enjoyed left a pleasant warmth in his belly...but was not truly full yet. It barely made the slightest dent in his gut, and he knew he could fit more. But nothing around the house seemed to his satisfaction...and he had a feeling he knew what he wanted. What was stopping him? He knew what his stomach desired. He’d never denied it before. So why was he purposefully avoiding it now? He couldn’t even blame his appetite: he clearly wanted it, so what was holding him back? He didn’t know. This was...annoying. “Pissing me off,” he all but hissed to himself, fingers curling over his bare belly and twitching slightly with his ever-present anger. “Damn that little snack-rat...how’d that little fucker get inside my head anyhow…” He growled and shook his head, trying to push away the thoughts and the ever-repeating words. But they wouldn’t go away. He covered his ears, snarling and pulling at his hair. “Die, you stupid thoughts!” he snapped, trying to think of a way to force them out of his mind. He couldn’t take this much more…! He froze in the middle of his thoughts. His eyes widened as his ears pricked up. The giant listened closely. He could have sworn...he’d heard the scampering of tiny feet. He sniffed the air...and growled again, almost like a wild bear. “Fee, Fi, Fo-Fuck it. I don’t have time for this shit…” The giant swung himself out of his seat and onto the floor...but he didn’t stomp his way towards the source of the sound and scent. Instead, he cautiously began to prowl towards it, moving almost like a giant cat. He was fairly certain the little rat hadn’t realized he was around, and he wanted to keep it that way… The giant tip-toed out of the living room and towards the main hall. He peered around the corner, and his red eyes widened at what he saw. He looked both surprised and angry at the same time. Creeping across the floor was a familiar little fellow - no bigger than a mouse, compared to the man-eating man-mountain - with yellow hair and matching eyes. He nervously moved across the floor, peering from side to side and looking all around. “Kirishima?” he called out. “Hello? Is anybody home?” “Yeah. Someone’s home, little snack.” Kaminari jumped...then squealed with fright as he saw Bakugou step out from hiding. The giant’s teeth were bared in a vicious snarl, his fists clenched and visibly shaking. With a comical holler, Kaminari flailed and turned around, trying to make a mad dash back the way he had come… “COME BACK HERE, RAT!” Katsuki roared. “I’LL KILL YOU!” “That’s not a good incentive for me to come back!” Kaminari called back. Bakugou just let out a wordless shout of anger, and lumbered forward. In three long, strong strides, he moved in front of Kaminari. Kaminari skidded to a halt as the Giant glared and lifted one massive boot over him... “DIE, RUNT!” “YIPE!” Kaminari barely had time to scramble out of the way before the giant’s foot slammed into the floor. THOOM! Denki stumbled as the floor shook with the force of the stomp. He hit the floor was was briefly winded...and barely had time to lift a hand in a pleading gesture, a futile attempt to stop the inevitable, as Bakugou’s own giant fingers came swooping down towards him and snatched him. Kaminari cried out as he was hoisted into the air; vertigo hit him in an instant, and he felt woozy...but only for a second or two. He had much worse things to worry about as he was soon held up to the giant’s face. “What are you doin’ back here?” sneered Bakugou. “I...I was lookin’ for-GACK!” Kaminari choked and gasped as Bakuguou gave him a squeeze. His ribs felt nearly ready to cave in, and his spine creaked forebodingly. “I don’t give a damn,” Katsuki snorted, then smirked. “Guess it’s my luck you decided to try and rob us again. This time...you’re not goin’ home, runt.” Kaminari let out a terrified moan as Bakugou licked his lips. “I haven’t had a human to eat in months,” the ogre rumbled, his free hand rubbing his belly up and down. “Now, I’ll finally get a small taste again...thanks for comin’ to me, meat.” So saying, Bakugou closed his eyes and opened his jaws. Kaminari cried out as he was brought closer to the stinking hot maw of the man-eating monster, the tongue twitching as the teeth parted to reveal the slimy chasm of pink, soft flesh that would consume him. “W-Wait...WAIT, JUST A MINUTE! WAIT, PLEASE!” Kaminari yowled as the mouth loomed closer and closer, and he struggled in the giant’s grip. “I DIDN’T COME HERE TO STEAL, I PROMISE! PLEASE!” Bakugou stopped. His eyes opened...and he pulled Kaminari away from his jaws, closing them and glaring at the small morsel. “You’re...not here to steal?” he repeated, skeptically. Kaminari - relieved to be away from that mouth and the odor of digesting meat that came from it - sighed and nodded in confirmation. Bakugou glared darkly. “Why should I believe you?” “Um...b-because it’s true?” Kaminari eeped out. Bakugou’s glare did not soften. “Listen,” Kaminari said, and took a breath to steady himself before going on, still wiggling to try and find some semblance of comfort between the boa constrictors that were Bakugou’s mighty digits. “L-Listen, I...I’m sorry. For what I did last time. I know it was wrong, a-and I won’t do it again.” “Apology not accepted,” sneered Bakugou. “And if that’s all you’ve got, I’m eating you.” “It’s not, it’s not!” exclaimed Kaminari, desperately. “Please...wh-where’s Kirishima? I need his help!” “Stupid hair’s not here. He won’t be back till tomorrow,” shrugged Bakugou, carelessly. Kaminari looked mortified. “But...but...oh, no...now what do I do?” the human worried, speaking more to himself than the giant. “By tomorrow...b-by tomorrow, he could be dead…” Bakugou looked the tiny morsel up and down, and tilted his huge head curiously. “What do you need that extra’s help for, anyway?” he groused. “Midoriya. My friend. He’s been kidnapped.” Bakugou’s eyes widened anew. “Kidnapped?” he repeated, voice soft and somewhat shaky. “Yeah,” Kaminari nodded, his expression dour. “He...he was tricked…a-and a bunch of creeps from a rival kingdom took him away. I...I was too late to stop them. I though...maybe Kirishima could...you know...help me rescue him. Being a giant and all. But...without his help…” “Without his help, you’ll be better off,” snorted Bakugou. “Where is this kingdom?” Kaminari looked up, seemingly stunned. “Wait...you mean...YOU’LL help me?” “Psh. Don’t think of it as me helping you. I’m just helping myself,” Bakugou snorted, and smirked cruelly as he jabbed his free thumb to his chest, head held high. “No one’s gonna kill that green-haired, worthless idiot except ME. Besides, I’ve been on a ‘diet’ recently, you might say…” He licked his teeth as his stomach let out an excited burbling noise. “...I think it’s time I broke it. So...where do I need to go to eat?” Kaminari gulped nervously. “Um...uh...y-you need to go due east, f-from our home. I...I can point the way if you...um...maybe...p-promise not to eat me?” Kaminari smiled hopefully. Bakugou glared. “I don’t make promises to snacks,” he growled...then paused before going on, slowly: “Still...it’ll be hard to find the place without a guide...I guess I can let you live a little longer.” Kaminari sighed with even greater relief. “Thanks,” he breathed...then squeaked like a rodent as the giant quickly tucked him into his vest pocket. “Stay right there, and if you do anything stupid, I’ll squash you flat,” Bakugou grunted. “Now come on, snack. You’ve got another annoying bug to save…” He grinned viciously as he began to march out of the house. “...And I’ve got dinner waiting for me now. Heh heh heh…” Kaminari shuddered as he heard the giant smack his chops hungrily, and looked out over the white and blue landscape of the Kingdom Above the Clouds as his “ride” stepped out into the daylight and went on his way. “I hope I don’t live to regret this,” Denki murmured to himself. “Hang on tight, Midoriya...I’m coming…” “Ahem!” “Uh...oh, uh...w-we’re coming.” “Hmph. Better. Don’t make me regret not eating you…” “I’ll try...h-heh…”

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Izuku Midoriya groaned; a splitting headache greeted him as he opened his eyes. Breathing, itself, required great focus, which only made the throbbing, stinging pain in his cranium worse. Something prickled like nettles inside his nostrils - it smelled like ammonia - rousing him from the bleary, black haze he’d been in for some time. He could still feel the weight of the club against his skull, and hoped he didn’t have any lasting damage to worry about. Midoriya sneezed as the odor became stronger, and shook his head with a louder groan, trying to clear it and focus on the fuzzy, faded-out world around him. “That’s enough,” a voice grunted. “He’s coming to.” The scent went away, and that’s when Midoriya became aware of a few things. One, his hands and ankles were both bound with what felt like rough hemp cord. Two, a large wooden post or pole was against his back, his arms wrapped around it behind him. Three, as he shifted his bound feet he realized they brushed against splintery wood. Finally, vision and total awareness returned to him...and Midoriya felt a chill go up his spine. The location appeared to be a city square, a huge black castle not so far in the distance, and various buildings all around him. This, however, was no city square he’d encountered before...and the people around him were the most unsettling part of all. There were hundreds gathered all around him, and while many of them looked perfectly ordinary in dress and appearance...at least a third of them were wearing dark robes and bone-white plague doctor’s masks, thee black lenses blankly staring at Izuku upon the pyre he was stationed on. At the base of the pyre, Midoriya became aware of a flicker of flame. He looked down and gulped nervously: one of the Plague Doctors carried a torch. Beside him stood King Kai: his purple eyes peering over the crest of his ruby-and-gold mask, dressed still in his expensive-looking green and purple coat. Half-hidden behind the King was Eri, who was visibly shaking, eyes darting about to look anywhere except at Midoriya. Midoriya blinked at Eri...then looked up with a glare at King Kai. “Where am I?” he asked, bluntly. “Wh-What’s going on?” “Welcome to Shie, the capital city of Yakuza,” King Kai answered, and Midoriya could sense the smirk behind the mask. “I am-” “I know who you are,” Midoriya said, trying to sound as brave as he could, but unable to stop shaking. “What do you want with me?” Kai blinked slowly. “Why don’t you guess, filthy Uan?” he responded, his voice cold and cutting. Midoriya bit his lip. “In the past few months, the Beanstalk you grew has helped make your kingdom’s capital all the more prosperous,” Kai decided to explain, his voice business-like. “I would like to know how you were able to create such a thing, and where all the wealth came from.” “And why should I tell you that?” Kai narrowed his eyes, and with a slight motion of his head, the robed figure holding a torch stepped forward. Midoriya shuddered, but held up his head, straightening against the post as he glared defiantly. “Y-You can do what you want to me,” he said softly. “I’ll never tell you anything. If someone like you figured it out, who knows what you could do!” “I can already think of a few possibilities,” Kai said, coolly. “But I would recommend reconsidering. Burning to death is a TERRIBLE way to go. Trust me.” Midoriya’s defiant expression did not shift. “Please don’t hurt him…” Both Kai and Midoriya looked down at the furtive little voice that spoke. Kai’s eyes widened as he found Eri tugging on his pant leg. “Please...j-just let him go,” she pleaded. “H-He’s nice, he didn’t-AH!” Kai sneered as one of his minions struck the girl across the face, knocking her back. Kai checked his leg and sighed with relief when he saw nothing wrong. “Never touch me,” he said, in a soft, warning tone. “How often do I have to tell you, Eri? You. Do. Not. TOUCH ME.” Eri sniffled and whimpered, holding her cheek; a bright red mark was visible upon it. “Leave her alone!” snapped Midoriya. “She’s your daughter, isn’t she?” “She’s useful on occasion,” Kai answered, in the same icy tone as before. “But she’s very undisciplined. A father is supposed to discipline his child when they misbehave, yes?” Midoriya looked ill. He looked to Eri with sympathy. “Are you okay?” he asked, gently. Eri blinked, clearly not sure how to respond to the question under the circumstances. “She is far from your concern,” Kai intruded. “I’ll ask again: will you tell us where you got those so-called Magic Beans that brought that stalk to fruition? This is your last chance.” Midoriya struggled against his bonds for a moment, but the knots were strong and taut. He heard several in the crowd snicker. Sighing in defeat, he glared at Kai, who stared up patiently. “Even if I knew where you could find them,” he said, firmly, “I would never tell you.” “Very well,” shrugged King Kai. “In that case, you are of no use to me.” He held out a hand, twitching his fingers in a beckoning gesture. The minion holding the torch handed it over. Kai then turned to address the crowd. “Citizens of Yakuza!” he thundered. “The enemy agent has refused to tell us the secret of the Magic Beanstalk. Today, we burn him, and purge his sorry existence from our clean and well-ordered society. Tomorrow, we shall treat those who live on his farm the same way...and then cut down the mighty beanstalk itself!” The crowd cheered, lifting their fists and shouting jeers at Midoriya. Kai smiled darkly behind his mask, amethyst eyes glittering maliciously as he turned back to Izuku. “Any last words?” Kai hissed. Midoriya blinked once...and gave his reply quickly. PHUT! Kai stumbled back...and his expression became one of livid horror as he felt the slimy substance on his cheek...felt his face burning, felt the hives itch and puff up… He glared with psychotic, feral fury at Midoriya, who smirked back with undying defiance after spitting in the evil king’s face. Kai snarled, and without further hesitation, hurled the torch onto the pyre. The kindling at the base of the pyre began to crackle and burn in an instant. Midoriya’s smile faded, and he began to struggle again. The crowd cheered louder than before, laughing and mocking Midoriya’s struggles as he fought for dear life. Smoke was wisping up, and growing rapidly in density...the fire would be burning fiercely in a very short while. If smoke inhalation didn’t kill him, the flames themselves would. Either way, it would be a lingering, painful demise. “HELP! HELP ME!” he called out, struggling to loosen the knots. Kai glared with triumphant anger as his robed minions taunted Midoriya by mockingly screaming for help, and the crowd pointed and hollered. “NO! NO, LET HIM GO! STOP!” Eri cried out, as two of the masked men held her back. “Perhaps you’ll scream out the answer while you burn, you diseased piece of trash,” sneered Kai. “If not...at least tomorrow we’ll make sure your family suffers the same fate.” Midoriya struggled harder in response, which made Kai chuckle. He crossed his arms, the dark king patiently watching the fire rise and the smoke billow, quickly growing into thicker and thicker curls of vapor...it wouldn’t be long before Midoriya began coughing and wheezing. He was going to enjoy every last second of this he thought, shuddering with revulsion as he touched the stinging portion of his face the boy had spat on. “Bring me my balm,” he muttered, looking towards one of his minions. “I need to-” THUMP-A-THUMP-A-THUMP… Kai froze...and the crowd soon went silent...as a huge, pounding sound echoed through the air. The ground began to tremble, and all across the city went very quiet, confused and frightened as the noise grew steadily louder, and the vibrations more intense… Midoriya blinked, and looked upwards, as did Eri and Kai and nearly everyone else gathered in the city square. Midoriya saw a huge, towering silhouette - at least as large as the castle itself - approaching the area… “Kirishima?” he whispered to himself hopefully, with an optimistic smile.

“A Giant!” exclaimed King Kai, and barked orders to some of his soldiers as he moved a few steps away from the pyre, the people of the city clutching each other, their chatter turning into frightened noises as the King shouted and cried out: “Get to the edges of the city! Fan out! Do everything in your power, but don’t let that...that THING pollute my capital!” The soldiers hurried to move, forgetting all about Midoriya, whose pyre still burned. Midoriya himself had almost forgotten, himself, given the circumstances.: the adventurous lad’s smile quickly faded into a look of confusion and fear as he realized the hair didn’t look like Kirishima’s...and as the giant moved closer and closer, and people in the city began to fretfully murmur, he soon saw the glare of two glowing red eyes. So like Kirishima’s, yet so unlike them. A flash of green and orange caught his eye...and that’s when Midoriya knew. “B-Bakugou?!”

To Be Continued...

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

captain’s best friend

summary: it’s a competition to see who is Gabe’s best friend, but is that really what you and EJ are focused on?

warnings: mentions of alcohol, drinking, I think like two swears, unedited writing 

word count: 3.6k

note from the writer: everyone say thank you @burkymakar​ bc she chatted with me through this entire thing (which I wrote in one day) 

Game days were some of your favorites. The electric crowd, a whole stadium cheering for the boys on the ice that you knew so well. Overpriced food and even more expensive merchandise. But no matter how much you loved it, it was after a good victory that you truly felt your happiest.

“What? No Johnson jersey?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at the sound of an approaching voice, turning around from your conversation with Aleks Zadorov Mel Landeskog only to come face to toothless face with none other than Erik Johnson.

“Oh, you know, gotta support my best friend.” You teased, tugging at the hem of the Landeskog jersey Gabe had gotten you years ago. The same jersey you wore every game day, so it really shouldn’t have been a surprise to him. EJ scoffed, his own playful grin taking over his features.

“I’m Landy’s best friend.” He stated matter-of-factly and you quickly shook your head at him. Mel, wanting to avoid yet another childish bickering match over who was her husband’s best friend, bumped her hip against yours while balancing a sleeping Linnea on the other side.

“What are you doing tonight?” She asked as more of the boys started emerging from the locker room. You glanced at EJ, having heard about tentative plans to go out to a bar or two if the Avalanche came out with a win, but before you could say anything either way, Andre had swung an arm around your and Erik’s shoulder.

“We’re celebrating!” He cheered, a little too loudly for Linnea sleeping nearby, before removing the arm that was around your shoulders and clapping EJ on the chest. “Two assists, man! I’m buying you a drink tonight.”

“Yeah, you better.” EJ responded goodnaturedly as Gabe arrived, sweeping his daughter into his arms and planting a kiss on his wife’s cheek. After greeting them, he pulled you into a quick hug as Mikko, Tyson, and JT arrived.

“You kids have fun tonight.” Gabe joked, before his gaze fell on you with a faux-serious look. “I’m putting you in charge of making sure they all get home in one piece.”

“You’re not my captain.” You teased, and Gabe narrowed his eyes at you playfully. He kept quiet, bidding you and his teammates goodbye as you made plans with Mel to get brunch the next morning while the boys were at practice.

“Who am I riding with?” You asked as the Landeskogs left. You didn’t have much of an opinion—as long as you didn’t ride with Andre, who acted as if he was in NASCAR each time he drove. Tyson’s face twisted up in a mischievous smile that you didn’t get to question before he started speaking.

“You can go with EJ.” He said, as if it was some big deal. Mikko chuckled then, too, while JT smirked smugly and you felt entirely out of the loop. You glanced to EJ with your brows furrowed, only to find him already glaring at Tyson. That only deepened your confusion, because as far as you knew, you had a pretty good friendship with the defenseman.

“I mean, if it’s fine with him.” You offered, figuring that if he truly had a problem with it, he’d take you up on your offer out. Instead, his gaze snapped to meet your confused one, and his look softened incredibly.

“Yeah, no, of course it’s fine.” He cleared his throat, and with one last glare at Tyson who was snickering, everyone made their way to the cars. The place Andre picked wasn’t far from the area, and it was only after a few moments of the radio playing softly did you gain the nerve to speak up.

“I could’ve made one of the other guys drive me, you know.” You explained, still feeling some of the awkwardness from the previous conversation. You weren’t sure why you were so concerned with making sure he didn’t feel inconvenienced by driving you, but you did.

“I’m sure you could have, but I don’t mind driving you.” He chuckled, turning to glance at you for a second before returning his attention to the road. You blatantly studied his profile, watching as the lights of Denver cascaded across his face. He probably felt your gaze, because the corners of his lips quirked upwards mischievously. Your attention snapped forward out the windshield as he opened his mouth to say something, probably about how you were staring. “There’s a team dinner at Landy’s next week, did he tell you?”

“Not yet.” You responded, practically hearing the smirk in his words as you admitted that Gabe told him something he didn’t tell you.

“It’s because I’m his best friend. He told me first.” He said proudly, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Or maybe, it’s because it’s a team dinner, and I’m not on the team.” Though factually, you weren’t on the team, it had been a long time since you hadn’t been invited to an Avalanche as someone’s plus one. Gabe had brought you around the team so much that they progressively became your friends just as much as they were his, and slowly it was just expected that you’d arrive at any and all team events.

“I’m pretty sure Landy would hate it if you didn’t show up.”

“Just Landy?” You asked without processing how flirtatious the question actually was. Your heart was beating in your chest as you waited for Erik’s answer, and you felt his attention flick to you as he pulled into a parking spot a short distance from the bar.

“No, not just him.” He said quietly but clearly. You nodded, missing the fond look he sent your way as you picked at your nails. The air in the car felt thick, and even though you had taken off the jersey, opting to wear the shirt underneath that you had on in preparation for going out, you felt incredibly warm.

You heard your name being called out, and you saw Andre and Mikko standing on the sidewalk in front of the car. You smiled, thankful for the distraction, and climbed out. You heard EJ get out, and he soon fell in step with you.

The bar was much more crowded than you thought it would have been, but then again it was a Friday after an Avalanche win, so people were in a good mood. Nate and JT immediately slipped away to get a table big enough for the crowd that had arrived with the team, while the other boys headed into the crowd. You had been momentarily distracted by the atmosphere and trying to decide what you wanted to do first, so when a hand settled on your lower back you understandably jumped.

“Easy there, killer.” EJ teased as you turned around to see who it was. You relaxed upon realizing that it was him, and not some stranger, and subconsciously you stepped closer to him. He leaned down enough to whisper in your ear in an attempt to speak over the clamor of the bar, and you reasoned that the heat rising to your face was a result of the crowd. “Do you want to get a drink first or sit down?”

“A drink.” You settled on. If he was going to be hanging on you all not—not that you truly minded—you would need some liquid courage. For a second, you saw his toothless grin widen in mischief before his hand slipped into yours and he used it to keep you close to him as he used his large frame to make a path through the crowd.

A strong drink, you decided.

And if it was a few strong drinks, who could blame you? Erik had barely left your side the entire night, warding off any creepy guy that approached and keeping you company. Even when you pulled Tyson and Andre to the floor to goofily dance around as your drinks started to hit you, you felt his eyes on you. Tyson must have noticed, because he gave you a shit-eating look no less than three times, but as the drinks kept coming, you found it harder and harder to care.

The end of the night came quicker than you thought it would, but the boys had practice in the morning and Nate was there to make sure everyone made it out of the bar by one in the morning.

“And to think you were supposed to be in charge.” He teased, watching as you giggled at seemingly nothing. You were drunk, not terribly so, but drunk nonetheless. Nate patted you on the shoulder and Andre pulled you in for an obnoxiously dramatic hug, and then it was just left with you and EJ at the bar, who you had seen nurse the same beer all night.

“Come on, I’ll give you a lift.” Erik offered, closing out his tab and yours, despite your protest.

“I’m fine, EJ. I can just get an Uber.” You shook your head, but he didn’t see, as he wrapped an arm around you and began the trek towards the exit.

“There is no way I’m letting you get into an Uber by yourself, while you’re drunk.” He huffed, rolling his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. You tried not to think about how your heart skipped a beat at his thoughtfulness, or how his touch on your lower back as he led you through the crowd set you aflame. “Landy would kill me if I let you do that.”

Oh.

“Yeah,” You chuckled, a little breathlessly as the cold Denver air pricked at your skin. You decided that sober you would have to deal with why you felt more than a little disappointed that the only reason he wasn’t letting you climb in an Uber was Gabe. “Landy would hate it if you left me, his best friend, to find my own way home.”

“C’mon.” He chuckled, surprisingly not taking the bait for your age old argument of who was the captain’s best friend. You found yourself wrapping a hand around EJ’s arm and moving closer to him in an attempt to both steal some of his body heat and not get lost in the crowd of people on the sidewalk, with the added benefit of making him slow his steps down so he wasn’t using his long legs to race ahead. “Let’s get you home.”

The next morning you woke up to an empty house and a dull headache. While it wasn’t that bad of a hangover, you still felt the effects of the one too many drinks you had the night before. The first thing you did upon waking up was check the time, seeing you still had a little over two hours before you had to meet Mel. After responding to a few texts, you rolled over in preparation to get up and make breakfast, only to see a glass of water, a bottle of painkillers, and a note that you certainly hadn’t left on your nightstand. Picking up the note—which really was a napkin stolen from your kitchen—you recognized the scratchy handwriting.

Drink up. —Landy’s best friend

You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face at the simple note, and quickly took the medicine and water before busying yourself with getting ready for brunch with Mel. It didn’t work, and you caught yourself more than six times thinking of the tall, toothless blond that shared the spot of the captain’s best friend with you. Even as you made your way to the predetermined diner, you couldn’t wipe the dopey smile off of your face as a result of the previous night’s events.

“So, you and EJ?” Mel teased the moment you sat down at the table. You had been cooing at Linnea, but stopped abruptly upon hearing her suggestive question. There was no you and EJ. There was you and then there was EJ.

But why did your heart skip a beat at the idea?

“No?” You said, unsure what it was exactly that you were denying. She simply shot you one of her unimpressed mom looks that you had seen directed at Gabe more than Linnea, and you gave her a confused look of your own.

“JT told Gabe that you left the bat with EJ last night.” She explained, and you rolled your eyes at the redhead who apparently couldn’t help but gossip. Mel was looking at you expectantly, and part of you wondering what made her think that something would happen between you and her husband’s second best friend.

“Erik just helped me get home last night, so I wouldn’t have to take an Uber.” You explained, and you quickly regretted your word choice as her smile turned mischievous.

“Oh, so he’s Erik now?” She teased you for calling him by his name instead of his nickname that everyone called him. Linnea saved you from coming up with a response, deciding she hadn’t gotten enough attention and babbled loudly, gaining her mom’s attention.

Arriving at the Landeskogs later that week, you hadn’t realized it was wine night, until you spotted four different bottles on the island table. You shot a confused look to Mel, you gave an exasperated sigh.

“They’re EJ’s, he’s getting into wine collecting, and brought some over for Gabe.” She explained, and you chuckled. You remembered him telling you something along the lines of his new hobby, but after your conversation with her over brunch days prior, you weren’t going to readily tell her your communication with Erik had increased.

“Is he here?” You asked casually, picking up the bottle that was closest to you. As if in response to your question, you heard Erik’s loud laugh fill the house and you couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on your face. You followed Mel into the living room, finding EJ and Gabe both sitting on the large sectional, with Linnea bouncing on Erik’s lap.

“Hey, you made it!” Gabe cheered upon seeing you, and Erik’s head snapped towards you, a smile on his face. Your heart skipped a beat momentarily at the sight, but you were dragged back to reality as Linnea cooed at you, making grabby hands.

“I was promised dinner.” You teased, dropping into the spot besides Erik. He seemed to be able to tell what you were after, and set Linnea in your lap. His arm went to the back of the couch behind your head, and you tried your best to focus on making faces at the baby in your lap instead of his proximity.

“You were promised dinner? I was just told to bring wine.” EJ joked, earning chuckles from everyone else in the room.

“That’s because I’m Landy’s best friend.” You said smugly, glancing at Erik out of the corner of your eye. He grinned, and from the mischievous glint in his eyes you could tell he was taking the bait this time.

“He trusts me enough to pick out a good wine, I’m the best friend.” He replied, and you heard Gabe and Mel groan in good fun. It wasn’t the first time you and Erik had gotten into the playful argument about who was Landy’s actual best friend.

“It doesn’t count as ‘picking out a good wine’ if you just bring four bottles. That’s cheating.” You grinned, your attention fully on him then.

“Oh my god, just kiss already.” Gabe groaned, earning an elbow from Mel, who honestly didn’t seem all too concerned with actually putting a stop to her husband’s comments. Your stomach dropped and your face warmed, and you turned back to Linnea, who had begun pulling on your shirt in a bid for attention.

“Why not?” Erik teased, surely he was joking, but his knee knocked against yours after a beat of silence. You spared a glance up to Mel, who had the audacity to look smug while you were freaking out.

“Why don’t we give you guys a moment.” Mel suggested, patting Gabe on the knee so he got the message and scooped up Linnea from your lap. You watched in confusion about why you and Erik would need a moment as they left, but just before Gabe disappeared, he turned and pointed a very captain-like finger at EJ.

“Just say it, man.” And then he was gone, leaving you even more confused and flustered as Erik moved his arm from on the couch behind you to his lap, where he anxiously fiddled with his watch.

“Say what?” You questioned, turning slightly to face him.

“Fuckin’ Landy.” He muttered, though you assumed he was speaking to himself as he had yet to look up to meet your gaze since Gabe left. “Alright, here goes nothing.”

“Erik—?”

“I like you. Like, a lot.”

And that truly was not what you thought he was going to say, so you said nothing out of pure shock. You weren’t upset that he had told you his feelings, far from it, but he had caught you off guard.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll just—” He started, and made to get up to leave, but your hand shot out before you could register you were moving and grabbed his forearm, causing him to stop his rambling.

“No, no. I just, I didn’t think you’d like me that way.” You confessed, and EJ laughed like it should have been obvious. He settled back into his seat, but you could tell he was still tense.

“Are you kidding me? I’m crazy about you. Whenever we go out, I’m stuck by you, and barely drink, just I can be the one to drive you home. When Landy first started bringing you around, he used to give me so much shit because I asked about you all the time. He still does, but it’s because I took forever to make a move.” He confessed. “But I was nervous, you’re so fun, and witty, and kind.”

“You’re all those things and more, too, you know.” You assured him. You were certain you had never met anymore more witty and fun than him.

And then it hit you exactly why your heart stuttered each time you saw him—why you suddenly had the urge to kiss him only moments before.

You had feelings for your best friend’s second best friend.

Erik called your name softly, and when you met his gaze, he was looking at you with a look of utter seriousness that you had truly never seen before on the lighthearted man. While you adored his playful smile and the mischievous glint in his eyes, you were incredibly grateful he wasn’t treating this as a joke.

“What’re you thinking?” He asked, avoiding the question you could tell he actually wanted the answer to. You turned in your seat to face him, tucking one leg under yourself while your knee pressed gently against the side of his thigh.

“I’m thinking,” You hesitated, trying to find the words that encapsulated how you were feeling, while still keeping true to the banter that defined your relationship with him. “that I wouldn’t mind sharing being Landy’s best friend if it was you I was sharing with.”

He chuckled at this, and briefly you could see relief wash over his features. But then he brought one of his large hands up to cradle your jaw and hold you still as he crashed his lips against yours. You hadn’t realized how long awaited the kiss was until he was pressed against you and you felt as if you were breathing for the first time. You felt blind for not seeing it before, how you felt for Erik and his reciprocated feelings.

“Neither of you will be my best friend if you keep doing that on my couch!” Gabe teased from the doorway, and you had your suspicions that he had been listening in the entire time. You tilted your head back with a loud, gleeful laugh as Erik exchanged some choice words with his captain. Gabe tossed his hands up in innocence before shooting you a wink and slipping back into the kitchen. Erik’s hand dropped from where it had been holding your face to link with yours, and he pressed a series of gentle kisses to your fingers.

“Softie.” You teased, but made no effort to stop him. In fact, you leaned forward in search of another sweet kiss and he readily complied.

“Want to get out of here?” He questioned, just as you heard Mel’s cheers as Gabe, presumably, told her what he had seen. You smiled at Erik, ready to go along with whatever he had in mind.

“Lead the way.”

Game days. Your favorite.

You were bouncing in your seat the whole night, and Mel rolled her eyes playfully at you as you jumped out of your seat to cheer for Erik as he scored the goal that cemented Colorado’s win.

“What’re you doing after?” Mel asked as you waited with her and the other partners of the players for the boys to come out of the locker room. You had kidnapped Linnea and had been making faces at her while she was perched on your hip.

“Movie night. It was supposed to be my turn to pick, but Erik scored, so.” You explained. She didn’t have the chance to reply as the door to the locker room opened and the blond you had been waiting for emerged, his loud voice filling the hallway.

“What’s with the Johnson jersey?”

“Oh, you know, gotta support my boyfriend.” You teased, handing Linnea back to Mel as Erik approached, pulling you in for a quick kiss. You hadn’t told him you were wearing it, instead of your usual Landeskog jersey.

“Damn straight. I think it’s good luck.” He mumbled against your lips, before straightening back up and taking in your mischievous grin. He admired you, knowing that he was in for some comment or another, not wanting it any other way.

“But I’m wearing Landy’s next time, I still am his best friend.”

[andromedasstarship]

in the stars - chapter 1

photo credit: @ssahotchnerr

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, show rating 16+ for reference. depictions of violence, stalking, murder, angst, age gap couple, drinking, brief mention of drugs.

summary - You finally meet the BAU, little progress is made in terms of the case. 

a/n - early update yay! i take a lot of liberties with movies that reader has starred in, pls dont take irl movie release dates into consideration here lol. more notes at the end 

blog rules 

masterlist // read it on ao3 here 

prologue // next chapter 

-----

Chapter 1 

Flights to California always took an extra toll on the team. Reid had explained it once, in a too long ramble, how the wind worked against the plane lengthening the flight at least an hour longer than the trip back home. 

Hotch was finding it difficult to focus on the files in front of him. The first photo he opened was of victim #3, with her eyes closed and face turned to the side, even Hotch could’ve been fooled that it was you lying there dead. While the rest of the team was mulling over the facts of the case, he was debating whether or not to tell the team about your history. The Unit Chief in him knew this was important information that had the potential to hinder the case; his relationship to you was too personal and his withholding of information could even turn him into a suspect. If the roles had been reversed with another member of the team, he’d have concerns over their ability to even be on the case. For now, Hotch forced himself to tune into the conversation the rest of the team was having; promising himself he’d figure out what to do later. 

“Garcia, what do we know about L/N,” Emily asked, turning ever so slightly towards the screen Garcia had just popped up on. 

“I’m glad you asked my dear Emily. Y/N L/N is totally Hollywood’s It Girl right now, it’s rumored you can’t even get a meeting with her without forking over at least twenty big ones. She’s never had a bad role in her career. Personally, my favorite movie she starred in was Mamma Mia, but like I said never a bad role,” Garcia paused for a moment, the sound of her typing filling the silence, “is it inappropriate for me to ask one of you to get her signature for-”

“Garcia,” Rossi interjected, “anything else we need to know about her right now?” 

“Sorry sir, I promise to be on my best professional behavior. But come on, remember when she swept the Oscars three years-”

Hotch felt himself detach from the conversation yet again, staring out the window as memories of the two of you flooded his brain. 

Three Years Ago 

The team had just finished a grueling case in Georgia. It was long, taking nearly two weeks to catch the unsub, in which he had managed to murder three additional couples right under their noses. Inclement weather forced them to stay another night until the storm passed, leaving them all stranded by the airport. In a turnaround way, being stuck gave them the rare opportunity to relax and bond as a team. Rather than all disappear to their own rooms for the night, they all packed into one small hotel room. Boxes of Chinese takeout were littered around the room, along with various bottles of alcohol. The Oscars were on that night and Hotch knew you’d be on the screen at some point, not wanting to miss it he proposed watching it to the team and they all happily agreed. While it was difficult with their schedules to be avid movie goers, they all were relatively familiar with the contenders for big awards such as Best Picture and Best Actor. 

You were nominated for two separate awards that night, along with starring in a film nominated for Best Picture. It had been a monumental year for you, with three separate feature films hitting theaters and all becoming major successes both financially and socially. You had spent so much time jet setting for press conferences and movie tours that you rivaled Aaron in terms of suitcase living. 

“Everyone shut up! They’re about to do Best Supporting Actress, oh I just know it’s going to be Y/N. Emily agree with me! We saw her in Little Women together, I cried. Oh don’t give me that look Emily, you cried too and you know it!” Penelope said enthusiastically, waving her chopsticks around. It was rare that Garcia ever came with on a case, but the location had been in a remote part of the state and they wanted to avoid being unable to reach her and her technical wizardry; a fact she was particularly grateful for, had this watch party been happening without her, she would’ve been so jealous.  

To anyone else, the grin on Hotch’s face would have been easily equated to the bickering going on between his friends and the effects of the few drinks he had thrown back. It was all for you though, he had caught glimpses of you on screen throughout the night and had snuck more than one glance at his phone to see the pictures of your outfit you’d sent him yourself. When the presenters walked on stage, Hotch sat up a bit straighter, his body naturally inching closer to the edge of his seat. The screen set up so the faces of all nominees and their reactions could be seen, Hotch’s eyes glued to the box you were in. 

“And the winner of Best Supporting Actress goes to…,” the first presenter started, slowly opening the envelope they held, “Y/N L/N!” The crowd roared and the camera focused in on you sitting stunned in your seat, surrounded by coworkers and friends. The team was cheering too, the liquor in their system loosening everyone up. Hotch clapping uncharacteristically loud and long even went unnoticed by the others. 

“I was right, I knew it!! I should start betting on this, you know what I bet I could hack into the system-” Garcia’s voice barely even registered in Hotch’s brain as he watched you. With one hand clasped over your mouth and the other holding your dress you made your way up the stairs and to the center of the stage. 

“Wow,” you started, eyes wide as you stared down at the award in your hands, slowly you looked back up into the crowd and continued, “I really mean it when I say I wasn’t expecting this. I didn’t even prepare a speech, I’m so sorry,” you paused again, the biggest smile plastered on your face as you quickly wiped a few tears threatening to fall, “thank you all so much, for supporting me and letting me do what I love. Thank you to my fellow coworkers who pushed me in this project and thank you so much to the fans who give me the strength to do this every day. Thank you! Thank you so much!” You ended, making your way back towards your seat. Hotch grinned as you flashed a wide smile to the camera following you, throwing a flirty winky that he knew was just for him.

The rest of the night went by in a blur. When you won again for Best Actress, you were barely able to contain yourself on stage, tears flowing freely down your face as you gave your thanks. The joy you felt in that moment was unlike anything you’d ever experienced in your life. At just 24, you had become the first person ever to win both awards in the same night. Hotch had actually jumped out of his seat at your second win, a motion that confused the rest of the team, but the liquor in everyone’s system forced them to ignore it; more glad than anything to see Hotch loosening up for once. 

After the team finally retreated into their own rooms for the night, Hotch wasted no time in texting you, asking if you were free to talk on the phone. His excitement palpable when not even a minute later your contact came up on the screen. 

“Aaron,” your excited voice came through the phone, just being able to hear you eased tension he wasn’t even aware he had been carrying, “can you believe it!” 

“Congratulations, Miss Double Oscar winner.” Even after a year of being together, his voice made you giddy. “Where are you?” He asked, unable to ignore the pounding sound of music and people in the background. 

“After party, top secret location Mr. Agent. I’m in the bathroom! Am I allowed to tell you I definitely see some residue of a line on the counter,” your voice was slurred and rushed, the energy of the moment combined with the liquor in your system causing your mouth to move faster than your brain, “probably not, ignore that. Where are you?” 

Aaron relayed various info about closing the case and what the team had gotten up to that night. When you began telling him about your night, he couldn’t help but feel insecure. Where he told you about $8 takeout meals and rural Georgia, you were talking about some of the biggest names in Hollywood and the luxury treatment you’d been subject to all night. He forced himself to focus on your voice anyway; not wanting to take this time ‘with’ you for granted. The two of you could’ve talked for hours, had it not been for Hotch pushing you to go enjoy the celebrations. 

“I’m so proud of you angel,” he said softly, voice swelling with adoration, “I’ll see you soon, I promise.” 

“I love you Aaron.” 

“I love you too Y/N.” 

When he finally hung up, he leaned against the wall with a sigh, running his hands through his hair. Relationship wise, it had been a tough year for the two of you. With your schedule busier than you’d ever expected, it meant seeing each other in person was nearly impossible. In good conscience you refused to take him away from Jack on the rare weekends he had off. Instead you’d fly in whenever possible, the two of you spending low profile nights together in fancy hotels or his house if Jack was away with friends. It was excruciating maintaining a relationship like this, but something about the success of the night made the sacrifices feel worth it. 

Present Day

“Look into her dating history, any exes that would want to hurt her?” JJ asked, her question pulling Hotch back into the present. Adjusting to the constant publicity you were subject to had been a learning curve for Hotch, the first time the tabloids ran a story of you photographed with some Hollywood Hunk his bad mood had the entire team walking on eggshells for a week. 

“According to my search she hasn’t dated anyone in years, or at least not publicly. I have a theory she’s secretly dating Henry Ca-.” Hotch zoned back out before Garcia could finish, having no interest in hearing or seeing whoever the media was speculating to be involved with you this time. Willing the plane to land faster, he ignored the faint voice in the back of his head that was telling him you were free to be with whoever you wanted. 

----

“If you’d follow me Miss L/N, the BAU has set up in the back conference room, they’ve been waiting for you.” Officer Reynolds said, her back to you as you followed her down the hallway. It was nearly 9am and you had spent the better half of the morning hyping yourself up to see Aaron for the first time in nearly two years. You made last second adjustments to your outfit; an outfit you definitely hadn’t spent all of last night picking out because you definitely did not want to look good for Aaron Hotchner. As Officer Reynolds moved to open the door you held your breath, thanking the years of experience in manipulating your outward expressions. When four heads turned in unison to look at you, you let out a sigh of relief. Aaron wasn’t in the room. 

“This is Y/N L/N. Miss L/N, meet the BAU,” Officer Reynolds said, extending her arm outwards towards the rest of the room, “I’ll leave you guys to do introductions, if you need anything, find me,” and with that she exited the room. A blonde woman stepped forward first, extending her hand out to you. You knew who she was before she even said her name. 

“My name is Jennifer Jareau, I’m the media liaison with the BAU.” She said, she gave you the same smile all the other officers had been giving you, but unlike theirs that reeked of pity, something in Jennifer’s felt authentic to you. After shaking hands with her, the rest of the room took a moment to introduce themselves. You never thought you’d meet Aaron’s team like this. Over the years, he had shown you countless photos of the team, along with hundreds of stories and tidbits concerning their lives. Even though you knew they had probably spent the entire flight to LA looking at your life, it still felt as if you had some creepy advantage over the situation. 

“The rest of our team, Agents Hotchner and Morgan, are currently doing some research in the field, but until they return we’d love to brief you and ask you a few questions, is that alright?” JJ asked, stepping backwards and motioning for you to take a seat at the round table. 

“Of course,” you quickly replied, moving to take a seat; internally you were laughing at the irony of her asking if it was alright, what would you do, say no? Looking up at the other three members still standing you motioned for them to sit as well, “I don’t know if you’re doing it on purpose, but I’d prefer if you all sat down too,” you paused, before adding, “kinda makes me feel like I’m back at school.” They seemed to smile at that, everyone else moving to find a seat at the table. Before the silence could turn uncomfortable, JJ spoke up again. 

“Does anyone else in your life know about the murders?” 

You shook your head no before replying, “my agent knows just in case I have to go underground and my security guard is aware, but besides them and the police, I haven’t told anyone.” 

“Go underground?” 

“Uh yea, a few years ago I had a stalker. I went ‘underground’ for about three months and the guy seemed to give up. The police have already cleared him, he hasn’t been to LA in over a year,” you explained. 

“That’s good to know. We want to keep your involvement in the case completely out of the media. I can only imagine you want that too,” JJ started, angling her body towards you, “I know you’re probably more than well versed in dealing with the press, but if anyone comes up to you asking about the murders we want you to completely disengage. And of course, don’t tell anyone else about what’s going on.” 

“Alright, now that that’s settled, we just have a couple questions for you,” Emily asked as she stood up, opening up a file from the table, “so what can you tell us about-” 

----

The dump site wasn’t showing any promise. Situated near a highway, the field was hidden from the road, yet still accessible by car. The constant stir caused by the speeding cars meant any leftover DNA or footprints were effectively blown away. 

“Our guy’s gotta be fit. The drop into the field is just steep enough he would’ve had to carry the body at least fifty feet to get it here from the road. He could’ve rolled it, but the bodies were too pristine to have been dropped on the ground like that.” Derek said, looking over at Hotch. The two of them were standing at the edge of the road, looking down at the now empty field. “Not only that, but this is a nice spot. Normally places like this so close to a highway are filled with trash, do you think he might’ve cleaned up?” 

Hotch was silent as he considered this, before slowly nodding, “it’d make sense if he did. Everything we have concerning his treatment to the victims post mortem has been nothing but affectionate.” 

“Do you think there could be two unsubs?” Derek asked, when Hotch looked at him with mild confusion he continued, “All the victims were strangled to death, ME report assumes it was by hand. It takes a lot of strength and persistence to kill someone by hand like that, not only that but it’s intimate, he’s staring them in the face as he kills them. The level of care displayed here seems way more than just remorse.” 

Hotch took another moment to consider Derek’s proposition before shaking his head, “we’ll keep it in mind, but it’s clear whatever connection he has to L/N is personal, at least to him. These women could be failing to replicate some part of her personality and in his rage he kills them. But when they’re silent and unmoving, their likeness to L/N lets him fall back into the fantasy, hence the care.” 

“We should start heading back, Reid just texted me they’re almost done with the initial briefing with L/N, and we should meet her before she takes off for the day.” Derek said, putting his phone back in his pocket before turning on his heel to head back to the car. Hotch’s shoulders tensed at the idea of seeing you, looking back at the field once more. Giving the field one last look, he felt a shiver run up his spine at the idea of finding you in a field like this. Shaking the idea out of his, he turned to join Derek in the car. 

Hotch took the driver's seat, glad to be able to use the road as a needed distraction from the impending face to face. The drive was only twenty minutes, but Hotch didn’t think any time would truly be long enough to prepare himself to see you again. He found himself wondering if anything would be different from the last time he saw you. Did you still smell the same? You had always been quite adamant about your preference for scented lotion, rather than perfumes. What if you completely changed your hair? Were you worrying about seeing him as much as he was? 

“You think she’s gonna be easy to work with?” Derek asked, breaking Hotch out of his mental spiral. 

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, you know, “Hollywood’s It Girl”,” Derek explained, “if she’s as in demand as Garcia said she was-”

“While we work this case Morgan, I expect you to conduct yourself appropriately,” Hotch interjected, his voice tight, “we treat Y/N the way we would anyone else, do I make myself clear?” His eyes not leaving the road at all, knuckles tight around the steering wheel. 

“Crystal,” Derek responded, raising his hands up in mock surrender. 

As they turned into the parking lot, Hotch scanned the parking lot before finally noticing your car parked in the back of the lot. You used to always park as far as you could, constantly complaining about how people in parking lots stressed you out and you wanted to be able to drive in and out as easy as possible. The corners of his lips turned up, ever so slightly, thinking maybe nothing had really changed for you, at least in that regard. 

“You go ahead, I’m just going to send a message to Jack real quick,” Hotch lied, pulling his phone from his pocket. Derek nodded and got out of the car, quickly entering the building. Hotch put his phone down in his lap and gripped the steering wheel once more. You were one of the few people to ever wind him up this way; it had been like that from the first day he met you, as if you managed to make him melt under your gaze. Five minutes, he would give himself five minutes to pull himself together before letting the Unit Chief in him take over. 

----

“I’m sorry, I just, can I take a break,” you asked, looking up at the agents who were still grilling you about facets of your life you never would’ve considered relevant, “I just need to get some air.” Without really waiting for permission, you were pushing back on your chair to stand up. Slinging on your thin jacket you exited the room, heading for the entrance of the building. The agents had been kind, but you were starting to feel a bit useless. Each time they had a new theory, you came up short in terms of material for them to actually use. They kept reassuring you that what you were able to come up with was helpful, but you weren't convinced. 

You had been in and out of this office so many times, your body went into autopilot as you made your way to the entrance, not even pausing to look up as you started to push open the door. What you missed was the distinct outline of a body pulling the door open at the same time. The added force made you stumble, nearly crashing straight into the man on the other side. Brown eyes met yours and you both froze, uncertain of what to say before speaking at the same time. 

“Y/N.”

“Agent.”

-----

a/n - wow wow! things are gonna start moving in the next chapter, i promise. the response to ‘in the stars’ so far has been so heartwarming. ive said it before, but this is my first fic and i cant even fathom that people are actually interested in what im writing. your support means the world! im trying to get stuff written before university starts up again, but i dont want to nix quality for faster updates so if updates slow down im sorry! comments always appreciated. leave a reply or ask if youd like to be added to the taglist! if you requested before but arent added, just ask again i mustve missed it on accident 

Taglist: @mac99martin​ @iwaizumiee​ @kylorendrip​ @hqtchner​ @lieswithoutfairytales​ @ssahoodrathotchner​ @midsummernightdream​ @weasleylovers​ @evans-dejong​

no permission is given to republish or upload my fics anywhere else. if you see this story not on my tumblr or ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own criminal minds or any of the characters involved

[catdadeddie]

I’m so happy for you, Nova‼️ I really am 🥺 can I request a fic, for buddie. I don’t really have a prompt besides anything this quote inspires. “You made falling in love with you easy that I never realized I was falling.”

Thank you, Sunny!! I adore this line and I hope you like the fic!!

The Love We Hold - 1.7k 

Feelings realization, fluff and angst, love confessions, some character introspection. - minor mention of events from season 4

(read on ao3) - link to celebration event 

Looking back, Eddie should’ve known. He shouldn’t be surprised by the realization that he’s in love with Buck, yet here he is, watching Buck sit on Chimney’s couch with Christopher as he helps him hold Maddie and Chimney’s newborn, Charlotte. Here he is wondering how Christopher would be as a big brother and how Buck would be as a dad. It all rings in his mind in the tone of “Oh” as he realizes the meaning to that thought. He looks at two of his favorite people in the world and everything he hasn’t paid attention to over the years hits him. He loves Buck.

“He’s a natural,” Maddie whispers to him, shaking him from the sudden shift in his world. He’s not even sure which one she’s referring to and that screams to him too. Too much is moving through his brain right now, but it all equates to love. He glances at Maddie where she anxiously is watching next to him. This is the first time he’s seen her in weeks and she seems to be taking motherhood like most new moms. There’s bags under her eyes and her movements are slow and sleepy, even resting a hand on the back of the living room chair for support, but the grin on her face as she watches Chim return from the bathroom and walks over to the couch. He stands behind it and leans over Christopher to watch as the newborn starts falling asleep with Buck’s finger in her little grasp.

“Yeah, he is.” Eddie answers as he subconsciously stares for a minute. He shakes himself from it though and turns his attention to Maddie. “How’s it been going? I remember the first week home with Christopher. I swear Shannon and I didn’t sleep at all.”

“If I felt okay leaving her with anyone right now, I’d have you and Buck babysit while I took a nap,” she answers with a soft smile.

“You totally could,” Eddie teases knowing the new mother wouldn’t dare leave her newborn with anyone besides Chimney and that would be a stretch.

“Don’t tempt me,” she grins before leaving him to his thoughts as she joins the group. Eddie debates joining them. Buck is looking up at Maddie now with a fond look that someone would relate to a golden retriever, as she pulls one of the chairs to be as close to Christopher as possible. Buck laughs softly as Christopher and Maddie start talking about the baby. Chimney and Buck add in every once in a while. It makes Eddie feel like an outsider looking in and that’s what makes him finally decide to walk over and take the seat next to Buck, who turns to him and grins as he whispers about how Christopher seems to like the baby.

Eddie just nods and gives a soft smile as he watches Christopher cradle the baby. His heart melts at Christopher, so focused on her. He’s keeping his arm against the arm of the couch so he can keep supporting the head. He does really seem to like it all and Eddie’s not really sure what to do with that information as well. He feels Buck’s elbow push into his ribs making him shake his head and refocus. He looks up at Buck, whose eyebrows are pulled together in a show of concern. Eddie sighs and goes to find something to express why he’s acting this way, but he’s saved by Chimney calling his name.

“Eddie! You wanna take your turn?” He asks as Maddie eases Charlotte out of Christopher’s arms.

“I’d love to,” he grins as he gets handed the newborn. She’s unbelievably light in his arms as he adjusts her to sit more comfortably in his arms. He can’t help but notice that her little nose looks just like Maddie’s and the so-brown-they’re-black eyes staring up at him are almost identical to Chimney’s. 

“She’s beautiful. Happy and healthy. You both are doing great,” he whispers, looking up at where Chimney has moved to stand behind Maddie’s chair. His hand on her shoulder as they both gaze lovingly at their daughter. Maddie nods and says a thank you as tears fill her eyes.

It’s not long before Eddie decides to leave and give the couple some more time alone with their newest source of happiness. 

---

Eddie hasn’t left his spot on the couch since Christopher went to bed. He’s been staring aimlessly at the tv with no recollection of what’s been on it as his mind is just full of Buck. Buck, who has become a staple in his and Christopher’s lives. Buck, who has always been there for Christopher. Buck, who is there for Eddie. Buck, who he loves.

All the game nights, trips together, the three of them just having fun echoes through Eddie’s mind. If there’s anyone out there that should join him and Christopher, it’s Buck and in reality, he’s already joined them. He’s already linked to all that they are. He’s right there with them and the thought scares Eddie in all honesty. Buck got this close to them without Eddie even being aware.

His thoughts get interrupted again with the flash of headlights through the window in his living room. He glances up to see Buck’s Jeep pulling into the spot behind his truck. Eddie watches as he turns off the car and before deciding to stand up. He sighs as he rubs his hands against his jeans before standing up to see why Buck’s here at 10 o’clock at night. He’s leaning against the wall on the outskirts of his entryway when the sound of keys jingling plays on the other side of the door. He debates just going and opening it but he needs the couple seconds it takes Buck to twist the key and push open the door to compose himself.

When Buck does step through the door, he jumps at the sight of Eddie. “Eddie! What the fuck are you doing? You scared the shit out of me.” He scolds as he tries to catch his breath while closing the door.

“Says the one who just let himself into my house this late at night,” Eddie shrugs, making Buck roll his eyes and mumble a “Touché.”

“I just wanted to check on you. You seemed… distant at Maddie and Chimney’s,” Buck adds with his own shrug after stuffing his hands in his pockets. Eddie lets his eyes flicker across Buck’s face in the dark room. He has this fleeting concern that screams of course he noticed. How couldn’t he notice how Eddie was acting. Maybe this was easier when Eddie just didn’t know.

“I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking. Nothing to be worried about,” Eddie tries reassuring him while escaping the topic. Buck seems to pick up on his attempt at running away from this and just sighs before teasing Eddie in a way that loosens the tension between them. “That’s an awfully dangerous thing for you to be doing, Eds.”

Eddie lets out a breathy laugh before grinning at his best friend. His best friend. If that isn’t a reason enough to keep this to himself, Eddie’s never had a friend like Buck and he isn’t ready to jeopardize that over feelings he didn’t know he had until 5 hours ago.

“Eddie, you’re doing it. Again,” Buck says, stepping closer to him. He’s right in front of Eddie before Eddie has anytime to process what’s going on. 

“I thought we were working on communication,” Buck quips with a bit of a teasing tone. “We’ve been doing great at talking out our issues. What’s so bad that you’re hiding this?”

Eddie feels the deep swallow that goes through his throat as he has to look up at Buck due to the close proximity. “What’s going on, Eddie?” He basically begs, making Eddie’s heart tug and before he even knows what’s happened the words escape his mouth.

“I love you.”

Both of them still as they process what Eddie just said. Eddie tries studying Buck’s face for some kind of reaction and when nothing but surprise is shown back to him, he just closes his eyes and wills it all to go away. He admits it's cliché but his heart is pounding and he just wants to open his eyes and this all has been a dream.

“I’m sorry,” He chokes out in a raspy whisper as he tries to side step away from Buck. His efforts are stopped by Buck’s hand grabbing his wrist and his voice following Eddie’s in the silence. “Why are you sorry?”

Eddie opens his eyes and blinks, stunned at the man in front of him. Buck’s face is only inches from his with a furrowed brow. Eddie looks down at where Buck’s hand is still on his wrist as he responds. “I’m sorry that I said that.”

“Did you mean it?” Buck asks quietly as his grip tightens before letting go completely. His demeanor has shrunk and he’s inching a step back and Eddie’s realized a whole other side of this coming out. Maybe Buck loves him too.

“Of course, I do,” He adds as softly as his nerves let him. It's too late to go back so he’s just gonna try to see where this goes as he reaches out for Buck’s hand. Buck meets his eyes again with a hopeful look tied into his features. A soft grin spread across his face.

“You do? You love me?” Buck echoes in insecurity that Eddie hates to see. It’s been something he knows Buck’s been working on, especially since his parent’s visit, but it's still something he sees haunt Buck.

“Buck, you made falling in love with you easy that I never realized I was falling,” Eddie promises, as he hopes Buck recognizes the value and truth to the words. He watches as Buck’s grin grows and Eddie can‘t help but pull Buck forward and into his arms. He feels Buck’s arms wrap tightly around him as something wet starts pooling on his shoulder. Eddie squeezes him before pulling back enough to see his face.

“They’re happy tears,” Buck laughs as Eddie reaches up and wipes under his eyes. “I promise.”

Eddie nods and whispers a “I know,” before leaning up the little bit of distance to press his lips to Buck’s. The kiss is far from perfect with Buck’s tears leaving a salty taste to the mess and they’re more focused on the connection and feeling of just being together like this than anything else. When they do part, Buck lets his forehead rest against Eddie’s. Eddie just reaches out to hold him as Buck whispers “I love you, too,” between them.

[anotherninjagoblog]

LoveSick

Ehhhhh the title is iffy. :P 

BUT

This fic has been in my drafts for a while, and I’m actually really proud of how it turned out! I really took my time, and I hope y’all like it just as much as I do <3. Special thanks to ellieloves2read, fizzysugarwater, and miraculous-ninjabird who commented their headcanons on my last post! It really helped me out with the last couple passages :)

Summary: Being sick and having new relationship anxiety towards your best-friend turned boyfriend sucks. (Bruiseshipping/Geodeshipping)

//////////

“You sure you don’t want us to give you a ride home?”

“Yeah,” he paused, pulling the scarf over his mouth and nose, suddenly getting the urge to sneeze again.

A second later and the feeling went away. 

“Cole is going to drive me.” Jay said, finishing his sentence.

He pulled his scarf down again, his breath coming out in a small fog. It was a cold Friday night, and he and Nya had gone with Lloyd to watch the football game. Not only to support Nya’s brother Kai, but Jay’s boyfriend Cole. 

Jay’s heart thumped in his chest. Boyfriend was such a nice word.

The game had ended ten minutes ago with Ninjago High securing a victory that night. With the football team yet to come out of the stadium’s locker room, and Lloyd having already being picked up by his father, it left Jay and Nya shivering as they stood over by the gate directly across from where Cole and Kai would exit. Everyone else was already leaving, undoubtedly to rush to their cars and blast their heaters on the way to their nice warm houses.

Nya gave him a skeptical look, narrowing her eyes. “Dude, come on, you look way worse than when you showed up.”

Well, she’s not wrong, Jay thought to himself.

He should have known he was going to end up sick. That foreboding feeling had been following him for a couple days now, the runny nose, the beginnings of a sore, scratchy throat. 

Before he had left for school that day, he ended up taking cold syrup as a precaution. But now that he was standing there, sniffling and sneezing, he realized he should have taken more, or at least taken it with him. And to tell the truth, he was absolutely suffering. He hated everything having to do with being sick since forever.

Nya, who had steadily watched his condition worsen and the night become colder, had continually offered him the choice to leave together. But, the thought of not being there to support Cole when he could just suck it up (a little while longer, he repeated as an internal mantra) ate at him just a tiny bit more. 

“It’s uh, not as bad as it looks?” He croaked, giving a weak smile. The pain in his throat seemed to resonate with every word he spoke. Jay fought the need to pull at his scarf again. 

Nya rolled her eyes. She was not convinced. 

“Nya! Jay!”

The duo turned around to the sound of Cole’s voice to see him and Kai jogging over to where they were standing. 

Jay felt warm at the call. Smiling, he gave a wave as they got closer. 

Kai jogged a bit faster, hooking his arms around Jay and Nya. Despite how cold it had gotten, Kai only seemed to radiate heat through his sweatshirt. “Did you see me out there? Other team didn’t know what hit em’.” He paused, looking around. “Greenie leave already?”

“Yeah,” Jay answered. “You guys-” Something in his chest tightened, and Jay immediately pulled away from Kai as he suddenly broke out into a coughing fit. 

“-did great.” He finished, his voice coming out raspy. When he turned back around, Kai and Nya had taken their distance from his mini germ explosion, while Cole only kept moving towards him.

Before he could utter a hello, Cole placed a hand on his forehead, before repeatedly replacing it on his cheek and forehead once again. 

He held Jay’s face in between his hands, a concerned look gracing his features.

“You’re running a fever.” 

...So it wasn’t just the blushing from their reunion.

Ignoring the discomfort bubbling inside from the symptoms of his cold, Jay stepped back.

“I um, might be coming down with something.” He answered, pulling the edge of the scarf over his mouth.

“You literally sounded as if you were about to hack up a lung!” Interjected Kai, who was still, rightfully so, keeping his difference.

Nya left her spot next to her brother and walked up beside Cole. “I tried telling him. Even Lloyd offered. But you know, he was really compelled by the power of looooove,” she drawled. 

Jay was about to make some sort of retort when Cole offered him his hand.

“Let’s get you home, okay?” He said gently.

Jay nodded. Now he was really about to melt.

They bid their goodbyes until Monday to Kai and Nya before they walked off in separate directions to their cars. The walk to Cole’s truck felt much longer than it was, and Jay kind of felt like he was beginning to space out, Cole’s hand and the sound of their footsteps on the pavement serving as his only tether.

They were about to approach his truck when another car had pulled up next to them. It was a couple of other guys from the football team Jay could just barely make out in the dark.

“Yo Cole! We’re going out to eat to celebrate - you coming?”

“Nah man, go without me!” Cole said, waving them off. The truck just steps away, Cole shifted his heavy bag onto one shoulder, before pulling the keys out of his pocket. The doors unlocked with a small click and a flash of the headlights. “Come on Bluebell.” he said, letting go of Jay’s hand.

Jay climbed into the passenger side without another word, closing the door and automatically putting on his seatbelt. 

Cole climbed in right after, shoving his bag into the backseat before he shut the door behind him. He rubbed his hands together and turned on the truck, cranking up the heater full blast.

“Check in there will you?” Cole asked, pointing at the glovebox. “Or, I might have some cough drops around...somewhere....” he said, his voice trailing off as he opened the middle compartment between the seats.

Jay opened up the glovebox but could not find the cough drops. Cole had noticed.

“No? Okay, we’ll just get you some.” Cole said, before buckling his seatbelt. 

“It’s worse than I thought. You’re completely quiet.” He looked over his shoulder, backing out of the parking space. 

As they drove out of the lot, Jay finally spoke up.

“You should have gone with them. Don’t want to keep you from all the fun.”

Cole frowned, his eyes still focused on the road. “Jay. It’s not a problem. I promise you.”

“Okay.” Jay leaned back into the seat, watching the lights pass by outside his window. He felt so warm, so safe, and so tired, that maybe he could fall asleep...just for...a li...a little while.

.

.

.

He awoke to a gentle shake of the shoulder.

“Jay. Babe.” 

Jay blinked slowly. Upon realizing he was not home in bed, and instead, still in Cole’s truck, he sat up, startled.

“W-what? ...What happened?” He mumbled quickly. “Why did we stop?”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Cole replied, leaning over, placing a hand on his cheek. Jay looked out the front window, the red neon lights of the pharmacy practically burning into his post-sleep vision. He turned back to look at Cole.

“I’m going to run inside, get you a couple things.” He turned around quickly, pulling the keys out of the ignition. “Hold onto these.”

 Jay sat up as Cole shoved the keys into his hand. “Lock the door. I’ll be back.”

And in a split moment, he was already out the truck, Jay watching as he quickly made his way over to the entrance. As Cole disappeared inside, Jay pressed the door lock, before leaning into the seat again. He could feel a headache coming on. 

Ugh, as if the sore throat wasn’t bad enough.

Maybe he should have gone home earlier. 

Especially since his germs were bound to have spread all over the interior of Cole’s truck.

And now he was in there, spending money on him. 

Jay shifted in his seat, the cold slowly beginning to seep in from outside. 

Maybe this was a mistake. 

But it didn’t feel like a mistake. His feelings were real, unapologetic in the way only one look at Cole made his heart flutter. And, maybe he imagined it, but he swore - he swore that he could see the love he felt in his heart in Cole’s eyes.

Jay absolutely loved that they were together. But, what if he was too whiny? Too self-conscious? What if everything he did secretly annoyed Cole? To the point where he would break up with him and stop being friends with him?

Jay tugged at his sleeve. They knew how to be friends, but this whole boyfriend thing is another level. 

What if...

A sharp knock on the door abruptly cut him out of his thoughts, and effectively startled Jay in his seat. 

He turned his head to look out the drivers’ side window to see Cole waiting, his hand on the door handle.

Taking a breath to settle the soul that had nearly leapt from his body, Jay then picked up the keys from their place on his lap, and pressed the button. 

Cole opened the door and climbed in, the loud rustling of a plastic bag filling in the silence. He shut the door behind him, and smiled at Jay, raising the bag up beside his face.

“Let me turn on the heater again, it’s getting cold in here.” Jay handed Cole the keys, and he waited for the heat to blast in through the vents before turning in his seat to face Jay. 

“For you.” 

Jay gingerly received the bag from him, and peered in to view the contents. Cole reached up over his head, turning on the cabin light. 

It was a bag full of goodies to any sick person if he ever saw one. Pulling it closer and setting it on his lap for proper inspection, he began to rummage through it.

At the top of the bag were tissues, and to his delight, there was a box of the special ones - the ones that didn’t make your nose red every time you had to blow - as well as many pocket-sized packs. As if that wasn’t great already, there were two medium sized bags of cough drops - mint and cherry. A bottle of cold medicine, and just peeking underneath- 

“No way.” Jay said aloud in amused disbelief.

“For your throat.” Cole replied, smiling.

Jay pulled out the small pint of ice cream. 

Birthday cake was his favorite.

He looked at it a moment longer before tears suddenly began to well up in his eyes.

“Jay?”

There it was again. The concern, the care in his voice-

Jay began to cry. He gently set the pint in the bag before using his sweater sleeve to wipe his eyes. 

Cole leaned over, placing a hand on his knee. “Jay, what’s the matter? Are you feeling worse? What hurts?”

Jay sniffled, before hastily wiping at his eyes again. 

He looked at Cole, giving him the best smile he could. “You’re so...amazing.”

Cole returned a small smile, brushing aside a stray tear on Jay’s face. 

But the concern was still there. Jay could tell.

“Ready?”

Jay nodded, pulled out the box of tissues, and tore it open.

.

.

.

At the sound of the front door opening, Edna quickly set aside the book she had been reading. “Jay! I was just about to call when - oh honey you look awful!” She walked over from her spot at the couch, going up to the both of them.

“Gee, thanks Ma.” He replied sarcastically, then winced at the sting in his throat. He needed another cough drop. Or maybe he could open up the ice cream now. 

“Oh hello Cole! Thank you for bringing Jay home.”

Cole smiled. “It’s really no problem, Mrs. Walker.”

“You’re such a nice young man, you know, I was really happy when Jay told us you were dating!”

“Ma!” Jay grimaced at the pain from the sudden strain in his voice. “Um, can you put this is the freezer for me?” He dug into the bag quickly, pulling out the pint of ice cream, and held it out to his mother. “Before it melts.”

“Oh, alright.” She said, chuckling. 

As soon as she turned away, Jay headed to his room, Cole trailing behind him. 

He pushed open the door and turned on the lights.

Jay walked over to the dresser, setting the bag on top, before shedding his sweater and scarf and placing it in the hamper. 

Cole busied himself with looking at some of the old posters on Jay’s wall while he changed into a pair of sweatpants. 

“Hey.”

Cole turned around, meeting his gaze.

“So, uh, see you Monday?”

Cole paused, thinking for a moment before replying. 

“Did you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

Cole set the backpack down beside the door. “What happened, back in the truck.”

Jay reached for a tissue, and crumbled it in his hand. “I don’t know - I just feel sick and it’s screwing with me, I guess.” He sniffled, and stepped closer to his bed before plopping himself down on the edge. “I think I just need to sleep it off.” He said to himself, before falling backwards onto the mattress. 

The light was too bright, so Jay placed his arm over his eyes. In seconds, he heard Cole moving around. He felt the bed indent as Cole sat next to him.

“Here.” 

Jay moved his arm aside, and saw Cole offering him a dose of the medicine in the small plastic cup. Cole offered his free hand, and pulled him up. 

He took the medicine from him, downing it in one bitter gulp. Yuck.

They sat in silence before Cole spoke up. 

“You could tell me anything before, and you can still tell me anything now. That doesn’t have to change.”

“I know.” Jay pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s just- I don’t think I’m all that great, you know? You? You’re amazing. Everybody wants to be your friend. You always know what to say, and you seem so good at this.” Jay said, making a gesture between the both of them. “But what about me? I’m not cool, and I know I can get on people’s nerves- sometimes I talk too much, and I just end up thinking about why you’re with me. I really care about you Cole, I really do, but what if doesn’t work? I just...I don’t want to lose you, ever.”

“Jay.” Cole said. “Deep breath in.”

Jay took a breath the best he could without coughing, before releasing it slowly out his mouth. “Deep breath out.” He murmured in response. 

“See? Perfect.” Jay slumped against Cole’s side, and the latter wrapped an arm around him.

“Hear me out.” Cole began, his voice a beat softer. “I know we’re still new to this. But, that doesn’t mean it won’t work.” He paused a moment. “...Love takes work. And I’m willing to put all of that into us. If you let me. But I promise. We will never lose each other. So for now...let’s just take things one step at a time.”

“Together?” Jay asked. 

Cole smiled. “Together.”

Oh no, Jay thought.  He was giving him that smile - the handsome one. Without thinking, he moved closer, pressing a quick kiss upon his boyfriend’s lips. 

It didn’t take longer than a second for Jay to realize what he did. “Oh my gosh! I forgot! Now I-”

Cole kissed him, cutting him off.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just come take care of me too when I’m sick, alright?”

“Deal.” Jay agreed, with a dopey smile on his face and his heart still beating.

Cole pulled his phone out of his pocket, and unlocked the screen. “It’s getting late. I should probably go, let you get some rest.” 

“Wait.” He said, grabbing Cole’s hand. “Stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“I probably stink.”

“Don’t care. Can’t really smell now anyways.” He retorted, with a sniffle at the end. 

“Okay.” Cole said, giving in. “Let me get you a couple tissues first.”

.

.

.

“Feel better?” Cole whispered. 

“....Yeah..” Jay responded sleepily.

The room was dark - only a small crack at the door allowed some of the light from the hallway to spill in

Cole was propped up against the headboard, both of Jay’s arms wrapped around his waist. He moved, making sure the blankets were snugly tucked around him. A touch to Jay’s forehead confirmed the fever was going down. 

“You still listening?” He asked.

“..mm...yeah..” 

Cole could tell he wasn’t really awake, so he went on to speak anyways.

“Sometimes I wish you saw yourself the way I do. You...everything you do makes me happy.” He said, brushing a curl behind Jay’s ear. “When you talk everyone’s ear off,” Cole chuckled, “I am more than willing to listen to every word that comes out of your mouth so long that I can see that sparkle in your eye. You’re passionate about everything you like, everything you do. I love seeing the excitement you have even for the simplest of things.”

He looked down at Jay again, who was already asleep.

“I would do anything to see you smile. I am so glad to be with you, to be your, best friend, to be your boyfriend. I want to remind you every single day.”

Cole waited a moment longer, before planting a kiss to Jay’s forehead. He grabbed a pillow, and helped position Jay in a way that would help him breathe easier throughout the night. He moved away, and his boyfriend barely stirred. 

Cole got out of bed, and was about to walk into the hallway before he stopped at the doorway. Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he quickly typed out a text before gently closing the door behind him. 

Jay’s phone illuminated on the bedstand. 

Love you. I’ll be back later. 

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Busted [Sirius Black x Reader]  - Requested 18+

Title: Busted Pairing: Sirius Black x Hufflepuff!Reader Word count: 4k Published: 4 August, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Warning: Smut! 18+ If you are under 18, please do not read! Notes: I got this request almost two weeks ago and I am so so so sorry for being late with it, but smut writing is not really me and so it took me longer to think it through. I really am very much sorry for taking so long with this one, but I hope it's good enough. (Even if I feel it's not. I don't think I have done the best I could.) Disclaimer: Both characters are of age! Summary: You and Sirius have always been close, but in the last year you have been even more involved with each other. However you didn’t want others to know about it, so you kept it a secret. Up until you both made a mistake. Request: [x]

Hey babe💓 I love so so much Fluffy supporter🥺 Now I thinking about A Smut Sirius x hufflepuff!reader Where Sirius and Reader are best friends, but have a secret relationship, (everyone suspects) but one morning after they spent the night together, the whole dining room see how they enter with the wrong ties Please🥺 - Anonymous

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

The Gryffindor common room was unusually loud. The newest hits of the year were blasting loudly from the radio. People were drunk, barely able to stand, still they kept drinking their firewhisky as if they drank water. Some people stood in the corners, chatting about the Ravenclaw vs Gryffindor match, which Gryffindor just about won, some were making out in a more secluded part of the common room, forgetting about the crowd. Of course there were others who were just a tad bit tipsy, dancing in the middle of the room, barely feeling the effects of alcohol.

You were one of those.

You danced with a huge grin across your face as you have been invited by Sirius to join the celebration. Not many Hufflepuffs were invited, only you and your friend, Y/F/N. You slightly felt privileged that Sirius never missed an opportunity to show you off. Even if they only knew about your friendship and nothing beyond that.

Sirius was someone who meant more to you than anyone combined. He was beside you in your darkest times, he was making you laugh when you felt lost. Sirius was a light that shined through the walls you built up carefully around yourself. He knocked them down as if they were never even there.

You loved the boy, you adored him. His carefree attitude made you smile constantly. There wasn't even a second you didn't enjoy spending with him.

You danced in the common room, forgetting about the drink in your hand, swaying your hips to the rhythm, almost spilling the content of your glass. You felt an arm around your waist, but you didn't stop. You knew who he was. His touches sent little shivers through your body, alarming you of his presence. You smiled happily, moving your hips in sync with his.

"Are you enjoying yourself, sweetheart?" He asked as he turned you around in his arms, letting you link your arms behind his neck. His grey eyes were attached to yours, forgetting about anyone else in the room. Your smile grew as you ran your gaze through his handsome features, stopping to glance at his full lips a bit longer than you deemed appropriate.

He realised the way your eyes wondered lower which made his usual cocky smile appear. He bit into his lower lip seductively, knowing how badly it affected you when he did that. It was utter torture for you, watching as his teeth sank into his plump pink lips. You felt the need to grab his neck and pull him down, wanting to feel those cushions against your mouth.

"Stop doing that!" You warned him as you turned around and focused back on dancing. He wrapped his arms around your waist as he let out a cheeky laughter. He leaned down to you, whispering into your ear.

"I will see you later, sweetheart." He hinted a tiny kiss in the crook of your neck, before he turned around and left you dancing with your friends. You looked up at them, finally feeling in control of your Sirius filled thoughts, just to meet two pairs of sceptical eyes.

"What?" You asked as you stopped dancing and took a swig of your drink.

"Friends, right?" Lily asked and you shook your head with an eye roll.

"Are we still on the same subject?" You questioned with a bored expression.

"I don't know about you Lily, but my friends don't look at me like that nor do they start kissing my neck." Y/F/N shrugged, her sceptical look unfazed.

"Interestingly my friends don't do that either." Lily replied, making you groan.

"He didn't start kissing me, he gave me one kiss and as I have told you numerous times before, we are just friends." You threw your arms in the air, feeling agitated all of a sudden. The same conversation has been happening over and over again and you were painfully tired of it.

"Yep..." Y/F/N said, her eyes not even leaving you for a second. You huffed in an annoyed tone, trying to keep your cool. But then you could see her gaze move behind you, settling on a spot. You turned around and your eyes met two dark grey orbs watching every little move of yours. A cheeky little grin appeared on his face and you returned the expression involuntarily. "Is he aware of you being only his friend? Because it certainly doesn't seem like he is." She raised a brow as you turned back to her.

"Just stop it." You told her, downing the glass of drink in your hand.

"Will he?" She asked, making Lily chuckle, which you simply ignored.

"He isn't doing anything. He is standing in a corner, talking to his friends." You huffed, annoyance clear in your voice.

"Yeah, he is simply ogling you. I am telling you, it's not a friendship." She shrugged and you groaned, giving up and leaving them behind. You walked up to Sirius and grabbed his wrist pulling him out of the common room, your rushed steps hitting hard against the concrete floors.

"What is going on?" He asked, but you didn't speak. You kept dragging him along like a playtoy. Although he didn't mind, he loved it when you took control and found it to be a turn on, he was rather concerned for you.

You stopped in front of the Room of Requirements, walking back and forth, before a dark brown door appeared. You walked in, seeing the exact copy of your bedroom as you grabbed Sirius' wrist and pulled him in, closing the door behind him.

"Sit." You said firmly, waiting for him to take a seat on the small couch in front of you. He didn't argue, he simply kicked off his shoes and laid down on the couch, following your order-like request.

"Can I ask what happened?" He spoke with a raised brow, being completely oblivious as to why you dragged him away.

"We-" You pointed at him and then back to yourself." are supposed to be a secret. Why are you staring at me so obviously?" You questioned, which earned a low huffing sound to leave his lungs.

"Can't I admire my girlfriend?" He asked with a bewildered look.

"Believe me, I love the looks you are giving me." You walked up to him, bending down in front of him, cupping his cheeks. "But you can not keep doing this, if we want to keep it a secret." You explained.

"It was your idea in the first place to keep it from others and I still don't get why. Everyone already knows, we just keep denying it." He rolled his eyes, heaving a deep sigh as the conversation repeated itself once again. "I'm tired of hiding it."

"I told you. I'm scared." You spoke lowly, feeling your anxiety resurface. You loved him to the moon and back. He was your everything and every time he was around you, your heartbeat went frantic. But you were scared. You knew how mean his fangirls could be. You feared to make it official in front of others, knowing you would not be able to survive the heartbreak you eventually would get from him. You didn't want others to feel pity for you.

Sirius was watching you with curious eyes, trying to figure out your thoughts, when finally it all clicked. You did make your worries clear before and he had no problem reading your facial expression after having been with you for so long.

"Have I ever cheated on you?" He asked and your eyes grew wide at the sudden question. You quickly shook your head as a response. "Do I show you enough how much I love you?" He spoke again and you nodded quickly, reassuring him. "Do you love me?" He pulled you down to him, forcing you to straddle him as he rested his arms around your waist. You breathed out a firm 'yes' before hinting a small kiss on his lips. "So what are you worried about?" He questioned and you knew you should be sure of him and your relationship, but those stupid little voices in your head confused you. You awkwardly played with the end of his tie, keeping your eyes away from him.

"Nothing is forever. I'm scared to feel weak and pathetic when you break up with me." You spoke weakly. You looked up into his dark grey orbs to see them growing wider by the second.

"Why on earth would I break up with you?" He asked, pulling you closer, keeping his gaze on you.

"I don't know. There could be multiple reasons. Maybe you will find someone better or-" You wanted to continue, but he interrupted you. He placed his hand behind your neck and pulled you down to him, pushing his lips against yours firmly. You melted into his embrace, enjoying his warm lips on yours, making all your worries disappear. As he pulled away, he didn't let you go. He placed his forehead against yours and looked into your loving gaze.

"Was I clear enough? Noone is better than you! I love you and you have to accept that. I want to show others that you belong to me and I belong to you. I want others to know that they will never have a chance to get close to you because I will break them into tiny little pieces." He grimaced, making you chuckle at his tad bit possessive behaviour.

"Give me a bit of time and I guess we can do it." You smiled sweetly, hoping for it to turn out well. You just needed time to get yourself ready. Sirius' wild grin was fixed across his face as he pulled you down for another heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, wanting to feel his closeness, whilst his hands wandered under your blouse, his palm running through your soft skin. "Where are those hands?" You chuckled into the kiss.

"Where they should be." He smiled as he wandered down to your neck, hinting sweet kisses along your neckline, teasingly biting into your skin to make you moan. He ran his tongue across your sweet spot, gently sucking on it as you ground in his lap. He groaned at the friction you created, grabbing your hips to steady you. "Stay put, sweetheart." He moaned against your skin, causing goosebumps to appear on your arms.

"What if I don't want to?" You whispered into his ear, stopping him in your skin's appreciation.

"Don't play dirty, I know your weaknesses." He growled in a low tone, his grey irises turning darker, filled with lust.

"And I know yours." You pulled his face closer as you started grinding in his lap once again, making him moan, trying to stop your hips, unsuccessfully. He placed his arms under your butt, lifting you up, whilst walking over to the bed. He threw you on top of the mattress, making you squeak as you landed harshly on the duvet. You didn't have time to complain, Sirius was already crawling above you, kissing you harshly, claiming his territory.

His hands didn't waste time, he was already working on your last button by the time you came to realise what he was doing. You sat up, pushing your chest to his as he took off your shirt, and undone the tie, with a swift movement throwing them on the floor.

You hurried to remove his tie, unbuttoning his shirt, wanting to feel his body against you finally. Your hand shook in anticipation, causing him to chuckle lightly as he ran his eyes across your half naked chest, playing with the string of your bra.

Finishing with the last button you yanked it off him, throwing it next to your blouse, before cupping his face to kiss him again. You linked your legs around his torso, pushing yourself up to turn the position, straddling his hips in the process. You looked down at him, running your fingertips through his toned upper body, stopping at the edge of his trouser. You grinned playfully as you bit into your lower lip, your mind already craving his closeness.

You hovered above him, kissing him firmly, before wondering down to his neck, making him moan at your actions. You left tiny kisses on his torso, gently running your nails across his chest, reaching his trousers with a cheeky smile. He returned your expression, watching every movement of yours as you unzipped his trousers and slowly pulled it down his legs, leaving the piece of clothing on the floor.

He was beautiful, mesmerising. He was an eighteen year old teenager, but he looked like a grown man who captured every thought of yours with his mere presence. You kneeled above him, kissing his collarbone, before once again you started going down to his most sensitive area. You looked up at him as you left open mouth kisses on his torso, his eyes lustful, his lips parted in anticipation. You pulled down his boxer, his erection standing proudly in front of you.

You got hold of it, slowly moving your hand up and down on its length making him growl as his eyes closed down. He was heaving deep breaths as your hand picked up a faster pace. You smiled at his satisfied state, before you took his member in your mouth, hearing his breath hitch. He growled at the warm and wet feeling, running his fingers through your messy hair. He gently controlled your movements as your head kept bobbing up and down between his thighs, making his breathing pick up a faster pace. Loud groans left his lungs as you played with your tongue around the head of his member, whilst fastening the pace of your hand around his shaft.

You squeaked as he pulled you up unexpectedly, firmly attaching his lips to yours, his kiss uncontrolled, slightly sloppy.

"That's enough sweetheart." He breathed and pushed you down on the bed, removing your shoes and stockings, before kissing you again. He started taking off your skirt impatiently, almost ripping your clothing off in the process.

"Someone is eager." You chuckled, making him groan lightly. He trailed down your neck, leaving wet kisses across your upper body. He pulled you up to his chest, kissing your neck, nibbling on your sensitive spot, whilst unhooking your bra. He took it off you, sending it to the other side of the room, his gaze attached to your chest.

"Merlin, you are so beautiful." He breathed, making you chuckle.

"Merlin?" You questioned giggling, which he simply responded by biting your breast gently. Your breath hitched at the unexpected sensation, making you fall back onto the bed. He massaged one of your breasts with one hand, whilst spoiling the other with his tongue, making you squirm under him. Your breath quickened as his tongue drew circles around your nipple, nibbling on the sensitive area.

He kept his hand working as he wandered down to your belly, kissing his way towards your underwear, before pulling down the black lace thong.

"I want to rip it off." He breathed against your inner thigh, pulling down the material as slowly as he could manage in his uncontrollable state. He wanted to feel you around him, he wanted to feel you as close to him as possible. But he liked to take his sweet time.

"But you won't." You replied as he gave you a cheeky smile and an eye roll, removing your panties and dropping it on the floor.

He kissed his way back up your inner thigh, leaving you a moaning mess as he kept away from your most sensitive area on purpose.

"Who is eager now?" He questioned, but you couldn't answer. You heaved a shaky sigh as you felt his breath against your slit, the cool air hitting hard against the warmness between your legs. He smiled proudly, before licking across the small ball of nerves, making your hip buck up in anticipation.

"Please." You breathed involuntarily, making him chuckle. He leaned closer, running his tongue across the area once more, your hips coming up to him involuntarily. He placed a hand across your lower abdomen, holding you down as his tongue took you on a rollercoaster ride of sensations, making you cry out as his fingers joined in on pleasuring you. You didn't know what to concentrate on. His playful tongue, his lips sucking on the little ball of nerve, his thick digits inside of you, the movements of fingers in and out of you or the sensation of the warmness forming a knot in your stomach. You didn't think long as you felt the inside of your walls contract, leaving you a mess of moans and screams, before releasing you to let you ride your high out.

You kept heaving heavily as you ran your fingers across your hair, your eyes concentrating on the inside of your eyelids, enjoying the satisfaction you just received.

You didn't have time to rest much as you felt Sirius' lips on yours, his tongue meeting yours as you tasted yourself. You pulled him closer, locking your legs around his hips, urging him to take you finally. You felt him chuckle into your neck. He kept kissing you, whilst aligning himself with your entrance. You gripped his hips, wanting to feel him already, firmly grabbing his skin, but he didn't move. You wanted to groan at his behaviour, but your sound was cut short as you felt him fill you up. He didn't give you time to adjust, he started pounding into you enjoying the friction between his member and your walls.

His groans were low and shaky as you watched his long black hair sweating under his heavy movements. You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, wanting to feel him even closer. He quickened the pace, making you moan his name into the kiss. His lustful eyes attached to yours as he cupped your face, watching you, feeling your walls close around him. Your breathing became uneven, your lips dried out. You felt the sensation wash over you, making your back arch, your breasts pushing against his chest, a loud scream leaving you in pleasure. Sirius kissed you, nibbling on your bottom lip whilst you got lost in ecstasy. He quickened his movements, reaching you with a loud growl leaving his lungs, before falling on top of you.

You were taking deep breaths to organise your breathing, whilst Sirius laid on top of your chest, listening to your heart beating uncontrollably. You ran your hands across his hair, playing with the ends. He hummed in satisfaction, causing you to giggle at his child-like behaviour.

"I love you." He breathed as he pushed himself up to be able to look into your eyes.

"I love you too." You whispered against his lips.

He rolled off you to go and clean himself up, leaving you time to do the same and drink a small vial you placed in the pocket of your skirt just in case this was to happen. You drank the potion, protecting you against any unwanted pregnancy and laid back on the bed, pulling the cover over you as you waited for Sirius to return.

He crawled under your cover, pulling you on to his chest, hinting a small kiss on your forehead.

"Good night, sweetheart." He spoke in a tired tone.

"Good night, love." You replied with a small yawn, snuggling deeper into his arm.

Morning came fast. When you woke up and looked at your watch, you jumped out of bed, trying to collect all of your clothes as quickly as you could. You picked up one of Sirius' shoes and threw it at the snoring boy, who shot up with a tired, but surprised expression.

"What?" He asked, not even aware of where he was for a second.

"We have to go, breakfast is almost finished." You replied quickly. Throwing all of his clothes on to the bed.

"So? We can go to the kitchen later." He said, as he fell back onto the bed.

"You know I hate eating in the kitchen. Now get yourself up." You instructed him and he finally decided to do as you so kindly asked him, whilst whining constantly.

As you stepped into the Great Hall, the place went silent. You looked around, searching for the source of surprise that came over them, before you realised everyone was watching you and Sirius. You looked up at him questioningly, but his eyes were running across the room with a suspicious look and a deep frown, just like yours seconds before.

He looked at you with a questioning look, before his eyes wandered down to your chest. A huge grin took over his expression, before a loud laughter exploded from his lungs. You still didn't understand what was happening, but then he took your red Gryffindor tie in his hands, waving it in front of you. Red... Your eyes grew wide, your lips parted as you realised he was wearing your yellow Hufflepuff tie. You raised your palms to your face, hiding yourself from the curious looks.

"Sweetheart, look at me." He tried to remove your hands, but you didn't let him. "You said you would want to reveal us anyway. It just came a bit earlier." He chuckled, not helping your embarrassed situation.

"Not like this though." You cried into your hands.

"Come on, sweetheart. Everyone suspected it already." He said as he kissed your forehead and finally removed your hands from your heavily blushing face. "Come, sit with us." He said as he pulled you up to the Gryffindor table. You could feel the intense stares you have received from the other students, whilst walking up to Sirius' friends.

"Let me guess-" James stood up with a huge grin. "this has been ongoing for a while." Sirius chuckled at his friend and waved him down, not to tease you.

"Friends?" Lily joined the teasing, making you blush even darker. You sat down beside Sirius as he wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him, reassuring you.

"Yes, we have been together for a while, we just wanted to keep it a secret." Sirius spoke up, seeing your unresponsive state.

"How long is for a while?" Remus asked with a raised brow and a half smile.

"Maybe a year." Sirius replied, causing his friends to gasp.

"Wait what? You kept it away from us for a whole year?" James questioned with a slight annoyance in his voice.

"I made him." You interrupted. "I'm sorry, I just wasn't sure. I was worried. I didn't know how others would take it or how it would affect us if others knew." You explained, looking at his friends.

"I mean, it wasn't really a secret. We kind of suspected it." Peter spoke with a shrug.

"Shut up Wormtail, you were the most oblivious one." James chuckled as he punched his friend on the shoulder. "I'm glad you finally got it out there, although it was certainly a coming out to remember." He smirked and you took a piece of carrot from the plate and threw it at him. "Hey!" He whined.

"That wasn't funny." You said as you blushed even harder, hiding in Sirius' protective arms.

"It was though." Sirius said nuzzling up against you, hiding his face in your neck as you felt his quiet laughters. You shook your head, but you couldn't hide the tiny smile creeping up on your face anymore.

Tags: I didn’t tag anyone as I wasn’t sure of the ages.

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