#a tough pill to swallow i know

[shopwitchvamp]

Skaters and Minis are "only" $50, so there is that at least! :D For real tho, unfortunately if they weren't priced how they're priced I'd have long since run out of money and they just wouldn't exist at all anymore. They're small batch, custom printed, made to my requested measurements to fix XXS-6X which isn't something you can find easily. Maybe someday I'll have expanded to a point that I can have a budget option but that'll (most likely) mean needing to operate at a much MUCH higher volume than I do right now.

“Omg, I love these! They go up to size 6X AND they have pockets?! Wow!! But do you have anything longer?”

Sure do, no problem!!

“YES these are great!!! But what about.. longer?”

I gotcha!! Comin’ right up!

“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about! But… how about if I’m feeling like it’s the kinda day where I need my clothing to be bifurcated???”

Never fear, joggers are here!

"Finally! Pants that are just as fun as skirts! They're so cool!" /scene

🖤witchvamp.com🖤 (ᵖˢ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰⁱˢ ʲᵘˡʸ ᵖʳᵉᵒʳᵈᵉʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ)

[leedee013]

Something that weirdly pisses me off but like

Andrew Minyard shouldn't be an undercover book nerd or something. This fandom is so obsessed with forcing Andrew into a specific vision of him that they WANT to see that they miss out on a lot of potential regarding the content that's actually given to us.

Andrew Minyard has an eidetic memory and has most likely watched way too many movies or TV over the course of his life.

Anyone who claims that he's too poetic/fanciful with words to not be into literature is simply ignoring the fact that there are stunning movie/film scripts out there that are worthy of being held on an equal pedestal as literature. And I'm saying this AS AN ENGLISH MAJOR. I literally majored in reading books. But shoving bookish Andrew into fanon is something I simply will never stand behind.

I have an entire slew of headcanons about why Andrew actually does hate the act of reading if anyone ever wants to hear them too

[minijenn]

Aight but look kids. I know you’re all excited about the potential UF reboot but I NEED you all to understand something very important. The way I wrote and engaged with UF… it can’t be like it was before. When I used to write UF, I strived way too hard to please everyone else to the point that I often found myself dissatisfied with what I was writing. It got to the point that I got burnt out with the fic because I wasn’t writing it for, well, myself, and because of that it became something of a chore.

With new UF, I plan on fixing that. I’m writing this fic solely for me this time around, making what I want it to be, which may not be what you want it to be. I’m going to take lengthy breaks when I feel like it, I’m not beholding myself to a stressful tight posting schedule, I’m going to be self indulgent and focus on the characters I want to focus on. I’m going to have fun this time around.

And if I end up writing something you don’t necessarily like, well, sorry about that, I can’t please everyone. I can only please myself. And hopefully this time, I will.

[hotcat37]

Fictionalized version of Mikke in deaf! Jere AU I love you forever and you're not bad at all only good

[tonydaddingham]

do you think current crowley wishes he could go back to the angel he was and tell him that his nebula, his stars, will be safe, that he himself will directly help to save them, and not only the stars but also the earth and humans that that sparky other angel likes so much. reassure him that his efforts won't be for nothing, he doesn't need to ask questions!!! he doesn't need to challenge anything, because it'll all be okay and he can trust that everything will work out fine

but then also stop. calculate, and understand that in order for everything to be okay... crowley has to ask questions, has to go through what he did, the pain and rage and abandonment and silence that comes with it, it's inevitable - because if he doesn't fall, doesn't become the demon he is now, everything that follows will never have happened, he'll never experience humanity, never get to buy the bentley, or feed the ducks, or grow his plants, or save the world, or fall in love??? and actually consider if the fall was worth every bit of pain and rage and abandonment and silence... if, in exchange, he gets all that????

[asticassia]

started replaying majora's mask immediately after finishing ocarina of time and doing this REALLY hammers in how much of its own unique identity mm has despite reusing the same engine and assets. it has this sort of dreamlike quality to it that i find really interesting, and obviously there's the sense of impending dread permeating the entire affair. video game good <3

[darkjusticiar]

I like those kinds of polls because it gives me a sense of where parts of the userbase are at in terms of wanting drugs/sex/alcohol but all the people going "WAIT why is no one drinking and having sex and going to clubs?? Thats so embarassing" r like so wild. Never grew out of the middle school mentality of thinking these are true markers of adulthood

[silentaura]

−−−  ꧁ the vendor had paused at her request : several wooden boats . zelda was a 17 year old , who needed several boats . and even then , several was not yet enough to carry all her memories . so , the vendor had stopped her at just seven .

allegedly , they're supposed to sink to the bottom of the sea .

purchases in tote . . . some days , zelda still felt like jumping into water and never getting out . some days , she felt like drowning in a spring would have been the correct option . some days , it felt too cruel of her to keep breathing . like running uphill , her chest tightened at the realization that climbing a peak wasn't an ending . . . but a midway point . it wasn't done and over , although it should be . being left alone with a memory was far more lonely than solitude could even fathom .

in silence , zelda knelt beside the bay , taking out her small boats one by one .

one for mipha . she had served her duty with the grace of a true princess and emblem of the zora's resilience in the face of adversity . one for revali . he had trained so tirelessly to stand brave against fate and represent the best and brightest of the rito . one for daruk . he had looked over her with an unwavering kindness and a strength . one for urbosa . she had dared believed in her -- dared to loved her when nobody else could .

throat strained and choked on her silence . this is supposed to feel cathartic , but it only feels heavy and threatening . seven boats , in total , and even then they couldn't hold the weight of her grief . a flower petal for each to remember life by , a coin to buy them some peace , and a torn prayer to forgive her by some grace of the goddess .

sweat-laced hands pass out her offerings when snot begins to run from her nose , and in shame zelda catches it with the back of her hand . a hiccup in her breath ; there wasn't enough oxygen in the world to make it easier to breathe . seven boats blur into one as the princess sits , unmoving and weighed by the heaviness on her mind . focus . focus on your training . you were born into this .

one for mother . she had died believing that zelda would someday grow to be a capable leader as she had been . one for father . he had died believing that her utter incompetence gave her no right to possess the name zelda . one for all the people of hyrule . they had become the ghosts to her guilt .

bubbling , festering , boiling : zelda dug her hands into the sands and threw a handful in a fit . and another . another . it just wasn't fair . life just wasn't fair to her . why did the world hate her so much ?? why did the goddess hate her ??

the girl gasps a breath . why , she was even terrible at being quiet !!

defeated , zelda folds inwards , hiding from the world as frustration turns to emptiness . she is 17 years old , and she needs several boats . she needed several , but the vendor had stopped her at seven . he didn't get that seven just wasn't enough .

[cattycaleb]

btw i’m imogen temult’s personal defense lawyer 😌

[banglatown]

.

[screampied]

“. . do you . . know what happens after death, sweetheart?”

the words that slipped out of nanami’s lips struck you right in the very depths of your heart.

it stung—a sharp prod that made the very crevices of your mouth twitch. his hands, his once warm and loving hands started to grow abnormally cold. frigid to where you even started to adapt to his chilled temperature.

“no why….” you started, feeling your throat tighten. “why are you asking me that, kento?” you sniffle, tightly interlocking your fingers with his.

he stares at you with a warm smile spreading across his lips.

regardless of his current position, peacefully resting his back against the ground—his inevitable fate had finally caught up to him.

nanami’s breathing patterns changed significantly. everything was so loud, all he could make out through his peripherals was splotches of blur and your pretty worried face. “. . because,” he continues, and his speech was so slow. you could tell he was trying to get every word out, every syllable, every vowel. just for you and only you. “i’m about to find out, my love . .”

your irises focused on him. nothing else, no one else—just him.

you’ve never seen him like this. so pale, so weak, so . . . scared.

his pure emotion, it showed in his eyes. his perfect brown eyes that you never failed to get lost in. for the first time in what was probably forever, nanami felt…scared. he tried his best to conceal it in front of you though. but even his best wasn’t enough, because you probably knew him better than you knew yourself.

“don’t say things like that, kento,” you mutter, already feeling that annoying plump knot rise up in your throat. your breath was shaky, tremble after tremble. “you’re fine. you can get up. we can get up.”

he knew when you said we, you implied that you’d both be walking away together — hand in hand, like in those stupid cheesy movies you’d watch with him every sunday after he gets off work. but alas, reality was quite harsh to face. an even more incredible tough pill to swallow. nanami knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

it was irksome, you had to squeeze your eyes shut to prevent a single tear to roll down your cheek.

nanami’s eyelids were hanging on by a thread, just barely open. he was trying—trying so hard to hang on, a small pout curls against his lips before he huffs out a single breath.

“ah . . forgive me, you’re right,” he says, his thumb swiftly stroking the front of your hand. a single tear escapes past your lower damp eyelid. even his voice sounded different. a voice you grew to love, so sweet and protective. it now sounded incredibly tired. you could hear a slight wheeze between breaths of his. “hey, don’t cry. don’t do that, look at me.”

his voice was so soft, you sniffled—despising the irritating tears that started to run down both sides of your temples. if it was anything nanami couldn’t stand, it was that he couldn’t stand to see the love of his life shed such sweet pitiful tears for him.

you looked at him, watching his eyelids struggle to stay open for you. everything ached, his body didn’t even feel like his own anymore. it was an indescribable feeling from when he got struck, laying against the slick cold floor of the shibuya train station.

“. . d-don’t leave me,” was all you managed to say, your lips was trembling, your heart pounded and you didn’t wanna say goodbye just yet. “kento, i need you.”

“hm? what are you mumblin’ about, sweetheart? ‘m right here.” his voice, it sounded happier.

you furrowed your eyebrows, now finding yourself buried into nanami’s bare chest, damp chin pressing against his pecs and all.

you were here safe and sound, snuggled up all against him, as you should be. it took you a long while to calm down, he’s staring at you with a soft loving gaze—a brief look of concern before you mumble out a, “..kento? are you okay?”

“why wouldn’t i be, baby?” nanami hums, a soft thumb stroking your back. with a relaxed breath, he leans in to plant a gentle kiss near the very tip of your forehead. his touch was forevermore soothing, a touch you never wanted to forget.

you let off a jittery sigh of relief, finally coming to the conclusion that it was another one of your horrid nightmares. you had nothing to worry about.

he was fine.

you were fine,

everything was fine.

. . is what you kept telling yourself.

nanami never told you those words, he didn’t kiss the tip of your forehead or stroke your back lovingly whilst staring into your eyes. the only true unbearable truth was that nanami was gone.

he was gone, and his last words weren’t even “i love you,” or “i’m sorry.” on his fatal dying breaths, nanami’s last words to you while squeezing your hand, sliding a ring into your palm, he rasps out a breathy, “will . . you marry me?”

but before you could tell him yes, he was already gone.

[thelivingdiary]

Put things into perspective for Neurotypical‘s

Walking up to a autistic mom and saying " I am so sorry, it must've been so hard raising an autistic child" and agreeing to it in front of their child is exact same thing as some random ass stranger walking up to your mother and saying " I feel so sorry for you, it must been so hard, raising that hell spawn/demon of a child" and then your own MOTHER agreeing with them and saying they wish you were never born and should have died inside the womb and never had to raise a demon like you. All the the while them CLEARLY KNOWING that you're right behind them. Is THAT an example you want to set for a child?

No? Just me?

[nathaslosthershit]

Lie Detector (Teen Dad!OP81 AU)

(Part of the Teen Dad!Oscar AU) Summary: Oscar does a lie detector test and Lando learns some tough pills to swallow.

“So, our first media video for McLaren since the big news came out, right Oscar?” Lando said.

“Yep.” Oscar weakly responded. When McLaren asked him to do the lie detector test again, hoping to poke fun at the recent events, he was weary. He knew his team wouldn’t do anything to hurt him or his family, and it would probably be great from a PR perspective, but he was already tired of constantly answering questions. 

“Or should I call you Daddy Osc now?”

“Please never call me that.”

“So, we are doing a lie detector to try and expose all secrets the two of us may be hiding, like an entire family for example.” Lando, of course, knew about Oscar’s kids before he was exposed, but he still loved the opportunity to poke fun at him for it, even if he totally understood why Oscar did what he did.

“This time, we are using a heavy duty lie detector, with actual wires and someone to tell whether we are for sure telling the truth, instead of a toy that shocks us at random.” Oscar continued, ignoring Lando’s comment.

The words ‘Oscar tells the truth’ flashed on the screen till a wired up Oscar appeared behind the desk.

“Okay Oscar, starting off easy. Is your name Oscar Jack Piastri?” Lando was giddy as he asked, really excited to get information out of his teammate.

“Yes.” was all he responded. Truth.

“Are you originally from Australia?”

“Yep.” Truth. This was easier than he had thought, but looking in Lando’s eyes, he could see the glint of mischievousness in them.

“Are you a daddy?” 

“I am a father, yes. I don’t like the look in your eyes when you call me that.” Truth.

“Do you have any other kids you are hiding?”

“No more than the two.” Truth.

“Am I their favorite uncle?” Lando knew he had it in the bag. The Piastri twins loved him and how much he spoiled them. Their parents? Not so much. Oscar’s fiancee had time and time again argued with the amount of toys Lando would get them at random.

He did begin to sweat a little as Oscar took a little longer to answer the question. He didn’t know how to break the news to him. 

“...Yes.” Lie.

“What! Oscar? You said I was their favorite!” 

“Lando, Logan has been in their life since they were born. He established himself as the cool uncle. When I let him babysit, I always return home to them eating way too much ice cream. To be fair, I think he has trained them like Pavlov’s dogs to associate him with treats so now they get way too excited and jumpy when they see him.” Oscar explained.

“This is stupid anyway I don’t care.” Lando mumbled, caring very much that he wasn’t the favorite. “Moving on, I don’t have any more questions so I guess it is my turn.”

After the video had been filmed, Oscar and Lando walked back over to the meeting room that the Piastri twins and their mother had been given to hang out in while they filmed. On the walk over, Lando interrogated his teammate even more.

“I cannot believe that I am not the cool uncle! I have never not been the cool uncle. Mila thinks I am cool, how do your kids not?”

“Lando, they are three, it is nothing personal. They love the toys you get them and they are always asking for you when they come to the factory. Logan just has seniority over you and has been the cool uncle forever, it is hard to dethrone him after a year.” Oscar said this hoping that it would stop Lando from spoiling them tenfold. 

If anything it just made him even more motivated to overthrow Logan.

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri and 472,264 others

landonorris logansargeant I will become the cool uncle

oscarpiastri lando please. No more toys we don't have the room

logansargeant In your dreams old man.

[herefortayloronly]

Hope this helps 💜

all these current things happening in the swiftverse make me believe even more in the thought i have that taylor does not want unsolicited advice from fans in how to proceed in her personal life (something i think she’s been trying to put across for quite a while actually) but she is happy to take their wishes into account in her professional life because what she is offering us is her work about her life, not her life itself. this doesn’t mean that fans aren’t allowed to be upset at the decisions she makes but she isn’t going to take that opinion and necessarily change things - maybe that opinion and/or hurt will make her contemplate stuff and change the way she thinks but maybe not.

i think this is hard for fans to come to terms with because we know her as a person (at least i believe we do), and we think she is doing stuff to specifically antagonize us when in reality she would do it anyway. this bleeds so much into the way we think that every time she drops a new thing that you can buy, the first thought is that she didn’t think of your personal buying position and is forcing you to support her when in reality you could very easily just not buy said thing. this is not a one-on-one comparison to her current relationship but im just trying to drive a point. she isn’t accountable for the remarks her bf made months/year(s) ago and maybe that means she just doesn’t give a fuck (i know some people have come to that conclusion) but the point is that she doesn’t care. she is maybe at peace with her decisions or maybe she isn’t, and maybe she is good with the good she is doing and what she is doing to help others and be generous or maybe she isn’t, but she wants the grace of no one outside her real life to tell her what to do. she wants to have agency, full agency, even if that means making decisions she may regret later.

[nickmarini]

Hey! First of all, I just wanna say that I absolutely adored your performance as Ayden/The Dawnfather during Downfall. He’s always been one of my favourite deities in the Exandrian Pantheon and your take on him was incredible to watch.

I especially loved how complicated he was in that he felt wise but naive, loving but stern, and genuine but also confused. It was all really fascinating and I’ve loved digging into it, as well as everything else about these characters, relationships, and this arc overall.

Given all of that, I wanted to ask how much, if any, of Matt’s performances as the NPC version of Pelor or just any campaign information or interactions regarding him influenced how you approached your characterisation of him over the course of downfall (as Ayden, and as the fully realised Dawnfather, and whatever in-between there was)?

I think the Pelor that we have seen so far throughout the campaigns is quite a contrast to what we see in Downfall, but I can also so clearly believe that they are the same being, just in different circumstances, so I was also wondering how you view the “present day” Pelor in regards to what he experienced/did in Downfall?

Thanks so much, so kind of you. I absolutely watched as much as I could of the Dawnfather's appearances in CR. There is a lot to look at and certainly a lot presented about him. Downfall is our first real glimpse of him on Exandria (I think Calamity appearance is open to interpretation as The Lord of the Nine Hells is influencing the vision) I wanted to show a different side of the Dawnfather but also his journey to something more familiar. We mostly know him on the other side of the Divine Gate. I think that distance is a hard one to breach for a god used to showing up consistently each and every day. He is a doer and a protector, his domains are hands on, and to be forced to leave the world he tended is a tough pill to swallow.

One of my favorite quotes is, "Don't let your shield become a cage." This was sort of a guiding light to me for the Dawnfather and something I think he struggles with. It's part of why I wanted Ayden to have a shield and part of why I think its so hard for him to leave Exandria. He has to reconcile his desire to defend Exandria with the consequences of his presence on it, I think part of his perceived distance as the "present day" Dawnfather stems from the pain of this decision and his certainty that something must be done, alongside the painful truth that he can no longer be the one to do it.

[novemberheart]

{Overview} Your pack is gone again. You have to go through an emergency alone

{warnings} fem reader, poly 141 x reader, a/b/o dynamics, chapter story, panic attacks, trouble breathing, some emotional angst, a cute golden retriever

Chapter 34 <- Chapter 35 -> Chapter 36

The leaves were starting to change. The hot dry weather you so hated was beginning to shift as well.

“You play this song too much,” Anais whined, reaching for the phone in your hand. You made no move to stop her, rolling your eyes playfully. It was nearly your stop anyways. A gust of air left the bus as it screeched to a halt, you and Anais shooting up out of your seats. Anais took the earbud out of her ear, passing it back to you. You and Anais worked your way down the street, dodging puddles and people with low self awareness. Jane opened the door for the two of you. “Could’ve texted us you were already here. We waited outside your door for ten minutes,” Anais chided, shedding off her scarf and coat. You followed suit.

“Was like three minutes Anais,” you chuckled, patting Jane on the arm. Jane remained silent, a small quirk in her lips as she disappeared into the back again.

“You heard anything from your pack?” Jane called.

“No,” you sighed, flicking the oven dial on. Your pack had been gone for three weeks. You haven't heard from them since they left. It was the longest you’ve gone without speaking to them. You ran your knuckles over the two marks engraved against your skin, your heart thrumming painfully in your chest. “They’re fine though,” you insisted.

“Course they are,” Jane and Anais said in unison.

“I’m going to get started on the frosting,” Anais spoke. “How about you start planning next week's menu. You’re much more creative than we are,” Anais added. Jane nodded her head in agreement.

Ten minutes before the bakery opened a line started to form. You were thankful you had a busy job to keep your mind off of your pack. Yet it wasn’t completely unavoidable. The smell of cinnamon reminded you of Johnny. The leather chairs reminded you of Simon. Anytime someone came in with a hat on it reminded you of Kyle. The sound of coffee brewing reminded you of John.

The work day was nearly over before you knew it.

“I’ll run and get us some sandwiches from down the street,” Anais offered.

“I’ll go with you. You always forget I hate pickles,” Jane huffed. They turned to look, and you offered them a small smile.

“I’ll finish cleaning up. You two go ahead,” you assured with a wave of your hand.

“If you’re sure,”

“Stay out of trouble please,” Anais nearly begged, making you giggle. Your smile dropped as soon as they left, the numbness returning to your body. Your fingers ran over the marks on your neck again. It had become a habit now. It made you feel something. A reminder that you weren't alone. You belonged to a pack. Even if that pack was halfway across the globe. You couldn't say that with complete confidence. For all you knew they were a few cities over on a mission. That would be a tough pill to swallow. Them being so close yet so far.

You huffed as a familiar fever resettled over your skin. That had also become a habit. You dug in your bag for a bottle of fever reducers. You used to hate pills. Now they are the only thing keeping you feeling semi-normal.

“Fever again?” You jumped at the voice behind you. “Sorry,” he apologized, holding his hand up defensively.

“It’s alright Mr. Avery,” you chuckled. He gave you a slightly worried smile, the back of his hand resting against your forehead.

“My daughter gets fevers when she's upset too,” he sighed. “They can be tiring. If you need extra breaks let me know,” he pressed. Your eyes welled up and before you could stop yourself you wrapped your arms around his soft middle.

“I just miss my pack,” you whined. His hand rested on your back, rubbing soothing circles against your sweater.

“I know, hon,” he sighed sadly. “Can only imagine how much they miss you too,” he added. They better miss you. It wouldn't be fair if you were the only one walking around with a hole in your heart. Mr. Avery rubbed your back til the tears died down, projecting the warm scent of alpha that you so dearly missed. You were lucky he was so understanding.

“Thank you,” you sniffled, working up the courage to pull away. “You should get an award for being the best boss,” you tried to chuckle. His lips quirked.

“As long as you and the girls think I am- that's all I need,” he smiled. ”Lets get some food in you and I’ll drive you girls back to base,” he recommended, already guiding you to one of the plush chairs.

Maybe the smell of leather would do you some good.

Something wasn't right.

Your fever had yet to die down, instead, it spread throughout your whole body. You felt sick, half of your body clinging to the toilet yet nothing could come up. Your vision was spotty, your limbs heavy.

The only thing you could think of was the distance between you and your alphas. That had to be it right? You were going through withdrawals. You trudged your way to Simon's closet, grabbing one of the last items of clothing and holding it to your nose.

It didn't help.

Nothing did.

No amount of scent from your pack was easing the sickness. It was close to early morning now and your eyes had yet to close for more than a second.

You had to get help.

You threw on some scent blockers to cover the smell of sour lemons. You had to be fast. You couldn't be caught wandering around base while it was so dark. You were in no condition to fight back either.

You grabbed Vernie’s leash, attaching it to her collar. You didn't- couldn't go alone. The two of you stayed close to the buildings- for cover and support.

The medical center felt further away than it ever had. Every step felt like a race against the clock. You thought back to your nightmare about Kyle. The feeling of walking yet going nowhere. You had half a mind to scream in frustration.

The lights were blinding, making your already fragile head spin on its axis.

“I need an omega specialist,” you panted. The cold counter felt good against your heated hands. Vernie wormed herself in your grasp, her chilled nose pressing against your cheek in an attempt to comfort you.

“I can take you sweetheart,” a soft woman wearing pink scrubs quickly held your arm. Her chocolate eyes scanned up and down nervously, her eyes connected with the receptionist. They spoke to each other without uttering a word. The receptionist quickly getting on the phone. “How long have you been sick, baby?” the nurse asked, leading you down the hall.

“Since my pack left,” you wheezed. Tears were already rolling down your cheek. “It’s really bad tonight,” you explained, using your fists to wipe away the tears Vernie didn't lick away.

“I can tell, baby. I can tell,” she soothed. She led you to a small room, guiding you to an examining chair. “How about I stay with you till the doctor gets here?”

“Please,” you begged.

“How long has your pack been away?” she questioned, pressing a cold towel against your forehead. It just reminded you of Simon, your sobs increasing in volume and intensity.

“I want my pack,” you sobbed, gasping for a breath. You couldn't breathe. No matter how hard you tried it was like the air couldn't reach your lungs.

“Easy,” she tried to soothe. It didn't work. You didn't know her. You needed your pack.

“I want my pack,” you repeated. It was barely a whisper, your words getting caught on a gasp.

You couldn't breathe.

“Breathe for me, sweetheart. Your pack wouldn't want anything to happen to you would they?” she continued, her hands resting on your shoulders.

If they didn't want anything to happen to you they would be back by now. They would've called. They would've had Laswell reach out to you. Something. Anything.

Maybe if you passed out that would get their attention. They would have to notify your alphas right? Just the thought made it easier to breathe- unfortunately. It would've been easier to sleep through everything. Wake up to your alphas and betas fussing over you.

Your lungs accepted the newfound air greedily.

“That’s it,” the nurse smiled softly. Her fingers brushed the wet hair out of your face and she guided you back against the seat. You held Vernie to your chest, her heart rate nearly as fast as yours.

A loud knock echoed throughout the room, the door slowly opening to reveal a doctor. He was a tall, slender man. You were only supposed to have female doctors. His eyes softened when they saw you.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Harrelson. I know in your file it says your alphas requested that you have female doctors, but I'm the only omega specialist on duty this morning,” his voice was soft with a beautiful lilt in it. “How do you feel about that?” he asked softly. You didn't care anymore. It wasn't like your pack really cared either. If they did, they would’ve tried to reach out to you.

“I’m fine with that,” you panted.

“Alright then. Let’s figure out what's going on with you, pup.”

You expected the nickname to throw you back into a spiral, yet, your breathing just steadied further.

Should be your alpha speaking those words to you.

Your stomach turned in bitterness.

“Her pack has been gone. Withdrawals, maybe?” the nurse offered. You were thankful for that, breathing being the priority for you. The doctor nodded his head in agreement, his brows furrowing as he looked you over.

“When did your symptoms start to become extreme?” he asked.

“The past few hours,” you explained.

“Can you describe them to me? Your symptoms.”

“Fever- I get those often though, sweating, heaviness in my body, nausea, dizziness, my heart won't slow down,” you rattled.

“Nausea and rapid heartbeats?” he questioned. He stood on his feet, resting his stethoscope in the center of your chest. “Those aren't usual symptoms of pack withdrawals,” he said slowly. “You are beating quite fast. It‘s been like this for how long?”

“The past hour,” you breathed.

“Have you started any new medication lately?”

“Camilcotazine,” you responded. He shook his head again.

“That wouldn't cause this,” he sighed. “Have you had any injections, piercings, or trackers placed into you recently,”

“I have a tracker but it’s been months since that's been put in,” you explained.

“Well, I'd like to run some tests. I think you may have something in your bloodstream. Maybe you accidently got poked by a rusty nail or something. Are you okay with that?” he asked.

Could you say no?

The initial fear had worn off.

Now you were just fatigued and irate. You didn't bother to ask if anyone was contacting your pack.

Would they even be able to get in touch with them?

If they were, what would your pack do?

Would they send someone back to be with you?

Even in your anger you believed they would.

You could imagine Johnny getting on a helicopter now, a mean snarl on his face at the thought of you going through this alone. You could smell the saltiness that would flow from Kyle at the state of you.

You didn't even want to think about your alphas.

You had more faith in your betas coming to your aid than your alphas.

The thought burned you further.

There was a knock on the door.

“Alright,” Dr. Harrelson sighed. He sat on his stool rolling closer to you. “Are you aware of a tracking device in your leg?”

The room went silent.

Dr. Harrelson’s face scrunched at your reaction.

“It’s very old. My guess would be about 7 to 9 years,” he continued. Not that you could hear him clearly. Your heart thrummed in your ears, your hospital gown clinging to you from how much you were sweating.

“I didn't know,” you replied shakily.

“Well it's an absorbable one- meaning after a few years it should've dissolved into your bloodstream. Yours hasn't. Your body is rejecting it,” he explained, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “We’ll need to remove it immediately. It'll be a small incision, one that likely won't even leave a scar. You won't even need to be put under, just some light anesthetic,”

“That's fine,” you responded immediately. You needed it out. Physically and mentally. You weren't in the corrected headspace to even think about who would do such a thing.

“Let's get started then.”

Hi friends! 👋Hope you enjoyed this next chapter and the first Chapter of section 2!!!! Lots of love and I’ll see you in three days for chapter 36! That's crazy!!!🧡

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