#and why do i miss aleves?

[sylvia-plaths-fig-pie]

Not to be "personal" on this blog (but im about to be personal on this blog) but by this time next week I'll know if I've gotten into my dream uni or not....

I feel sick. Which is why I've written like 3k words or something in one sitting. And shock horror it focuses on law, the subject I should be studying in september of all goes to plan (it also has Sam winchester beacsue I'm obsessed).

I need AAB (reduced offer as I'm in a deprived area lmao) and I've never gotten below A*A*A so I should be fine, but im also teachers favs so idk if my grades were biased or somthing.

Anyway rant over, apologies aha

[monstersinthecosmos]

can i vent about the healthcare system lol

This year I have health insurance for the first time since I was a child and when I tell you it sucks, I hate this, I hate participating in this system, I miss when I was just in pain all the time and didn't even bother going to the doctor bc I didn't have insurance anyway, I don't love this system where I read my insurance policy and think something is covered and then it isn't except maybe it is and maybe it got processed by a bot and I have to call the insurance to dispute but then I have to call my doctor to dispute and then I have to call the insurance back to dispute like, guys I have phone anxiety I'm gonna just pay you all this money instead of making phone calls I guess.

i have nerve damage and my treatment options so far are a $1,300 shot that might not actually help and I'll have to get another one in a few months anyway or I can go to physical therapy where they want to see me 2x a week for $250 per session. My insurance only covers a certain number of sessions and even if I did go to all of them, I still wouldn't hit my deductible. The PT place has a financial assistance program but it's only for people who have hit their deductible. (What's the point lol).

I'm also at a dead end trying to get diagnosed & treated for hypothyroidism because "weight gain" is listed as a symptom and BCBS says they don't cover "weight loss" treatment even though that wasn't what the fuck I asked and I was more concerned that my hair is falling out and I'm freezing all the time. Like where does it end, every time a symptom of something includes weight gain. What if a skinny person has it. Is this discriminatory? Is it a coding error? Will I pay the $215 I got charged for having my thyroid tested and simply not continue treating it now, because I don't have the constitution to make 100 phone calls and argue with people? lol.

the spine specialist orders an MRI and says I'm too young to have surgery so I should just do pain management. the pain management doctor tells me to lose weight. (it's hard, because, I think my thyroid doesn't work.) he says lyrica might help with my nerve pain but it causes weight gain so he advises against it. i wonder at what point does BCBS decide that spine & nerve pain is because I'm fat and won't help me anymore because it's weight loss related.

And let's not talk about how I was like, you know what, I would rather just build up some medical debt and pay it off slowly because I'm terrified that I'm going to have permanent nerve damage, and I applied for financial assistance with the hospital, and they approved me, but they don't help for any bills which are under $2000. So my $900 MRI or my $400 nerve test or my $1300 shot are not eligible for financial assistance, even though my hospital balance would be over $2000. I go to set up a payment plan and it won't let me set the number I can afford. I manually enter a bit at a time and they won't stop emailing me that I owe them money because I didn't use the official interface for a payment plan. I call their financial assistance to ask why they didn't adjust my MRI bill, they tell me because it's under $2000, I get so overwhelmed and start crying on the phone like an asshole so I hang up before I remember to ask about adjusting the payment plan.

like is better that I'm now $1300 in the hole for tests that told me I have nerve damage and arthritis and disc degeneration when I can't afford any of the treatments? Is it better to at least know? But what's the point if I can't do anything about it anyway except YouTube yoga and Aleve for breakfast, which I was doing anyway when I was uninsured. Thanks, now I know! I cannot feel my leg! Pray for me that I don't wind up paralyzed from ignoring it!

(I think part of me committed to these tests because I was like, well, if there's NO damage I will know and I can stop worrying, but there is damage, so now idk how to feel.)

anyway it's just. I've always known this system was garbage from the outside when like, I've spent years having to treat things by myself at home, I've had so many times where I didn't go to the ER when I probably should've, I've passed on really fun outings with my friends like snowboarding or roller derby because I'm too scared I'll get injured, my mental health is at all times hanging on by a thread because I can't get medicated (put a pin in this one bc I finally got an appointment for an evaluation but my insurance doesn't cover most of the meds LOL). It already sucked on the outside and was already a huge embarrassment to me as an American but like. I finally have insurance and it wasn't' even worth it.

and like. there's stuff I can afford. I'm making better money than I did in my 20s. Like, okay, it sucks but I can pay $215 for my thyroid test at the end of the day. But I don't want to. It sucks and it's not fair. I shouldn't have to. And like it's $215 now and then how much later. It's not sustainable at all. And if there's a way for them to cover it and not discriminate against me for being fat, it's behind so many barriers of me trying not to cry my eyes out on the phone and tbh I don't see it happening LOL.

but elon is on track to become the first trillionaire and our taxes are bombing children in tents, cool cool cool

I just don't understand who the fuck this is even for. WHO is out there with $2,000 to drop every month on physical therapy. Who is this for!!! WHO IS IT FOR!!!!

[kalpasio]

Every Month

A Kalpas x reader one shot (sort of, it's too long) where reader is on their period. Whole thing is below the cut!

Not to be over-dramatic, but you were dying.

Cramps were always the worst, but this round was particularly bad, and there was absolutely nothing in the apartment for you to eat. Well—there was nothing in the apartment you could eat. All the food you’d bought yesterday (while blissfully unaware of the torture to come) made you feel like throwing up, and that was if you could even get to the kitchen in the first place. The small breakfast you’d had this morning was all you’d gotten in terms of food so far and you couldn’t be sure if the nausea you felt was due to hunger or pain.

For a short time after you’d woken up, you thought maybe it won’t be so bad this time. One Aleve and some orange juice and you would be fine, right? An hour later you could be found lying in bed, flat on your back and feeling like you were being stabbed by an invisible knife. Three hours after that, you hadn’t really moved, but the painkillers had finally kicked in and you were able to get some rest, though you still didn’t feel up to walking the ten feet to your kitchen. You really should have taken that second Aleve.

It was almost comical thinking about the massive Honkai beast you’d taken down two days ago, yet here you are taken down by cramps you should have seen coming. “Honestly,” you grumbled and rolled over, trying to find the singular position that would convince the pain to die down a little. “I’ve been doing this, how many years? And I still get blindsided.” You turned again. “This is some bullshit.”

The words were heard by no one else, but letting the frustration out at least made you feel a little better. Maybe that’s why Kalpas was yelling all the time? You’d have to try this more often--.

At the thought of your boyfriend, you let out yet another groan. It was nearly 1 in the afternoon, meaning you had officially missed lunch and as soon as he finished eating you would be on the receiving end of the aforementioned yelling. Truth be told, you had grown accustomed to tuning out his theatrics, but right now you felt like you were exactly one harsh word away from crying and you really had no clue why. And if you cried, Kalpas would feel bad; and even though you were the one that should be upset, you’d end up comforting him for the next several minutes.

Another few minutes passed before you were forced to peel yourself off the bed in search of blankets. Sleeping with what was essentially a furnace meant you kept the covers on the bed very minimal. Now, without that warmth, and with your body deciding to completely cease any function that might produce body heat, you were certain you would simply freeze to death if you didn’t pile every blanket in the apartment on top of yourself within the next thirty seconds.

Shuffling around, you managed to collect a grand total of three additional blankets before the door to your apartment opened and you stopped to glare at the visitor. Though technically, this was his apartment and you were the one stealing it. What can you say? You were a firm believer in ‘what’s mine is mine and what’s yours is ours.’

“Kalpas!” you dropped the blankets in favor of something much warmer, not caring if your outstretched arms made you look like a child asking to be picked up.

“No,” he closed the door with a slam and headed straight for the kitchen, only making a detour to get around you.

“I haven’t even said anything, all I want is a hug!”

“No.” At this point he’d pulled an orange out of the fridge and was slamming that door closed too. It was a miracle all of the doorframes in this apartment were still intact.

“How come,” you huffed, “every time you want to cuddle with me, I have no say in the matter. But the one time I want to cuddle with you, I’m shot down?” Kalpas merely shrugged as if to say, ‘not my fault’ and continued peeling the orange, tossing the rind in the trash. “Fine!” The word sounded harsh, but it was clear you had very little malice behind the meaning. “Next time you’re on your own!” Now your boyfriend turned to face you, but it was only to send you a look that said ‘really?’ and you were starting to get fed up with his Kosma impression.

Letting out another huff, you hefted the blankets up from the floor and stomped back into your bedroom with the haul. It took a minute to lay them all flat, and you swore under your breath for every second spent out in the cold of your usually warm apartment. Once satisfied with the new layers that made your bed look like a stack of pancakes, you dove in and gave a happy hum. Kalpas on the other hand, had finished his snack and was now watching your antics from the doorway. His heavy footsteps forced you to look up from your phone that leaned against a pillow next to you in the bed. Unfortunately, the setup didn’t stay in place very long because he was tossing the pillow back to its original spot and pulling up the covers allowing the heat you’d scrounged up to escape.

“Hey!” you immediately grabbed the edge of the blankets and tried to force them back down, but they didn’t budge. “You said no cuddles! No takesies-backsies! Out! Out!” The shooing motions you made had very little effect, even when you began slapping Kalpas’ arms to keep him away. He slipped in, closing the gap he’d created (which was good) and instantly warming up the bed (also good), but you were still feeling a little petty about his initial refusal, so you gave him a scowl and turned away with an overdramatic sigh. A little irritation didn’t seem to bother him, however, as shortly after you’d settled in, arms were wrapped around you, and you ended up cuddling anyway.

For a few seconds, there wasn’t any noise in the apartment. Both of you had gotten comfortable, and any minute now you would fall asleep, Kalpas’ body heat keeping you toasty and his warm hand relieving some of the pain in your stomach. That relaxed silence was broken when your brain decided to grace you with the realization:

“You’re still in your battlesuit. Aren’t you.”

The sound you received barely even counted as a grunt.

“You brought Honkai guts into the bed. Didn’t you.”

Now you got a full grumble.

“Kalpas, I SWEAR—”

So much for your restful afternoon.

Sakura, you’re convinced, is an absolute angel. Without even asking, she knew exactly what you needed, even if you hadn’t come to realize you needed it yet. Granted, she had helped you through enough cycles that she probably had it all memorized, but you still appreciated the attention. What you did not appreciate was your boyfriend spilling the beans to half the MOTH base about why you hadn’t left your room.

This wasn’t the first time it had happened, and you highly doubted it would be the last, but it was still irritating—not to mention embarrassing—to have everyone ask if you were feeling better when you finally were able to crawl out of bed. He did this every time; and every time, you would demand cuddles as punishment. Either Kalpas wanted to be your personal hot water bottle, or he genuinely didn’t care enough to remember how much it bothered you. At this point you were fifty-fifty about which one it was.

Regardless of his reasoning, Kalpas told everyone you were dying and everyone included Sakura and Sakura—possibly your favorite flame chaser at the moment—was here to save you from the pain and your boredom. She brought snacks, more painkillers, food that was filling but not so heavy it would upset your stomach, and movies that were entertaining enough without being so emotional you started crying. How she knew exactly what to bring made no sense (if one ignores the months of practice like you are) but most importantly, she brought Kalpas along with her.

You felt a little bad, forcing Sakura to be a third wheel, but she didn’t seem to mind, and you were more than content with the way things are at this moment. Kalpas had you seated on his lap with your back pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around you, ensuring every square inch of you was warm. For how bland it was, the movie was still enjoyable, mostly because the three of you found plenty of times you could poke fun at the characters, or the horribly obvious product placement.

When night rolled around, Sakura headed home while you and Kalpas headed to bed. Despite having done very little all day, being in constant pain—even if you couldn’t feel it—was rather draining, and you were ready to pass out. Between the movie and the heat coming from Kalpas, you had nearly fallen asleep four times already. Once under the covers, the position you were in only differed from how you had been sitting on the couch in one way, and that was because you were now lying down. There was still a firm grip around your waist, and an unmistakable heat surrounding you.

Kalpas had been surprisingly quiet today. Not so much because he hadn’t been speaking—he was by no means shy when it came to talking with you—but there had been a lot less shouting. Your boyfriend wasn’t exactly known for his volume control, and if he wanted to be loud, he would do so unashamedly. A small voice in your mind tried to argue he was annoyed you had forced him to stay inside all day, but the advantage to dating someone as blunt as Kalpas was that you knew he would have gotten up and left if he was that bored. No, there had to be some other reason.

“You haven’t been yelling,” your words broke the silence that had blanketed the room as soon as you’d gotten settled into bed. His response was a grunt that sounded almost like you’d woken him up from the verge of slumber. “Are you going to tell me why or…” Both of you knew the second option you’d trailed off on didn’t exist, and either Kalpas would tell you or he wouldn’t, there wasn’t much in between.

“Learned.”

Well maybe there was an in between. Him giving a response that didn’t help you in any way, shape, or form.

“Learned from?” you trailed off again, this time his grunt sounding more like a huff.

“Last time.” This was at least slightly more helpful, though you did still have to dig back quite a ways to the previous month to replay the events in your head.

He had in fact been a bit too loud a bit too often last time, and you remembered kicking him out of your room. You say you kicked him out, but really he had a mission he was supposed to be preparing for and you’d just sent him off to where he needed to be. Apparently, the exchange had stuck with him, and you felt a little bad now; especially considering the fact that the whole exchange had nearly slipped your mind.

“Last time I had a migraine,” you defended. “I’m sorry for being mean.” Kalpas let out a snort that told you he didn’t care, even if the hand squeezing your said he did.

“Mean?”

“Well how would you describe what happened?” Your comment sounded a bit accusatory, but you didn’t mean it that way, and when you rolled over and saw a hint of a smirk, you knew he didn’t take it to heart.

“Inconsiderate.”

“How was I incon—where did you even learn that word?” Kalpas gave you a blank look that showed just how amused he was with your joke but answered anyway.

“Emile put it on my report.” Figures. “You didn’t say goodbye.”

The room fell silent again, your eyes wide as any snarky comment died on your tongue. 

“I’m sorry.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I can’t believe I forgot.” And another to his nose. “Won’t happen again.” The last peck fell on his forehead, and even if Kalpas didn’t appear to appreciate it, the contact made you feel a bit better.

“I know,” he said it so matter-of-factly that you were a bit taken aback. “Because next time I’m not leaving until you say it.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Thinking of that picture where it's a note that says like "Hi! love you! please don't hug me tonight! I am bloated and I will fart so hard it tears a hole in the bedsheets :)" I'm sorry for dying, and I'm sorry this is definitely on the lower tier of my works lol. school is weird (how many times have fanfic writers said that) but this should be my worst week apart from finals, so hypothetically. I am back. I would really really like to be back to writing regularly, even if it's short ooc pieces that say "you" 50 times

[greetingspathetichumans]

he's the uhm, contractor. I'll just pay him and he'll leave.

[the contractor flashes a smile to Alev, but it's not missed how there's hickeys and bruises on your collarbone trailing below her shirt that she did not leave]

there's some food in the kitchen, I uhm.. I'll come heat it up for you in a moment.

- 🐥

Chick i can pay him why don't you do get your self breakfast [she stands by her glaring at the contractor]

[thaywrites]

heyyyyy, GEBF here! sorry, i got swamped by irl commitments, but im finally hereeee again! how has your break been, bestie? also i just wanted to ask you about your favorite muse(s) so far. is there any character you're currently all about? are they in their main character era in your head?

that's completely understandable with the holidays and all, but nice to hear from you again, GEBF! and oh, it's been both amazing and busy all at once but I'm just glad to be able to rest and spend time with my family. hmmmm so I have like a loooot of muses lol bc I'm always coming up with new ideas and love to build characters and stories and worlds. I adore all of them but there are some that I just feel more musey when writing bc they live in my head 24/7 rent free. so here are some of them:

aurora "rory" cohen ( victoria pedretti fc ): rory's a character that came to me when i got back into the rpc and she has been my baby since. she's a baker and pretty much, all sunshine and honey and freshly baked cookies. she's kind of a celebrity in her hometown, since she's the mayor's daughter from a small town, and kinda loves it bc she loves to get to know new people. she also just tends to talk too much. her family fell apart a couple years back bc daddy cheated and the whole town was all over it and then her first love broke her heart so she's currently in her healing era, living with her pitbull and trying to get her own bakery up n running.

adrien zahir ( avan jogia fc ): adrien is a muse i've had for yeaaars and i never get tired of writing him. he's a guitar player in the kinda famous rock band loudmouth ( and i write all the band members too ) and basically his background is that he was kicked out of his family by an overly religious father who hated the fact his only son was queer. so he found himself a new family instead. he went through many revamps and as of his latest one, he went from a sex crazed, addicted, alcoholic, messy rockstar to a soon-to-be daddy, pretty much married, recovered and decent human being. he's still loud, brazen, flamboyant and that's why we love him sm.

theodore becker ( andrew garfield fc ): theo is my broadway star. well, currently on a break. so he's basically a sweetheart broadway actor who was head over heels in love with the man of his dreams and he thought it was time to take things to the next level. he proposed, got a no for an answer and decided he needed some time away from new york, so he moved back home to help his dads out with their small business. he's pretty much a goof, big musical theater nerd, and just has a lot of love to give. i adore him sm.

alev özberk ( alperen duymaz fc ): poor man's version of clyde from the infamous duo bonnie and clyde. his bonnie is written by a friend of mine and we just have sm fun with those two. alev is my badboy, he's been part of a gang and has done some pretty hefty stuff in his life. he's a burglar, a liar, a drug dealer and all around a shitty person. but he's honestly so much fun to write bc he's always getting up to something and honestly, i miss him sm.

bowie monroe ( sophie thatcher / kiana madeira fc ): my little delinquent redneck enby babygirl. so their background is super messed up, mommy was a groupie that partied too much and didn't care about her motherly duties, so bowie was left at the cares of their older siblings (all half, all from different fathers) and was raised by them. they grew to be pretty pissed off at everything and everyone but they do try to be on a good behavior for the sake of their siblings, which is hard considering the friends bowie usually keeps by her side. she also has a pet lizard she's very fond of.

there's like so many others i could add to this list but i wanted to keep it on the shorter side lol

[troglobite]

hm

well. nothing like having a full-blown identity crisis to help destabilize you further during a time when you're going to be completely fucking stressed out chasing down answers to all this health shit. lol

ANYWAY

so unmasking autism the book gave me the beginnings of a legitimate full-blown identity crisis. and then considering taking an online independent poetry class taught by a prof that i've worked w before & like triggered the rest of it.

and i've really just spent the rest of the week in fucking shambles. having really bad brain days. just falling apart. and then i woke up today already having an anxiety attack (my dreams were completely fine, so it wasn't even that) and then i've just felt. bad. all day.

and now after talking to my mom abt it for 2 hrs and just thinking out loud abt everything that's been eating me alive all week.

well. my neck and shoulders and jaw are incredibly tense. i have a headache. i cried a bit, which used up several of the tissues that we have left in the house (which isn't many--we urgently need more). i'm gonna have to take some aleve. and i'm tired and overwhelmed.

but also. i, for once in my life, actually felt the weight lift a bit after talking about it.

idk that that's. ever happened. usually it's something that i'm mad abt that happened to me or around me. and i'm just complaining or venting right.

but this was like.

legitimately it was eating away at me. and it was like. idk i couldn't figure out why. i was just like "i can't fucking deal w this rn" but then i just had to. i felt so bad talking to my mom. and i was being hyper critical of everything i'm doing rn, which is what i do when i'm Bad Brain.

i've been working on the next session for my miss frizzle game which is happening this sunday. and i had to make a sort of city layout map. and i just. felt so insecure and angry and frustrated abt it. and it felt like that opinion of it was validated. it's. not very good.

but i just kept berating myself abt it.

and it led into me talking abt this shit that's been eating me alive all week.

and finally saying it out loud...helped. and like i started talking abt it w my therapist today. but we have 50 mins and i had to catch her up on everything and i hadn't like properly sorted through it.

so it feels sort of like i just did.

nothing is fixed but at least it. makes more sense.

i'm basically having to start from the ground up, figuring out who i even am as a person, what i like, what i enjoy, what i value, all of it. bc all this time i thought i knew. and i didn't.

and i'm also realizing i do have. an "addictive" personality and that i've probably been right to avoid All Substances including caffeine. bc the thing i realized is that i've shaped my entirely life in pursuit of external validation at the expense of....p much everything else. i chose the path of least resistance in that direction, but i still chose it bc of external validation.

and it's just. so deeply upsetting and unsettling to realize everything i've done or decided or said i liked or pursued--was bc of external validation.

and to realize idk how to form internal opinions and emotions and experiences. idk how to recognize something that i actually enjoy, unless it's something that i unmistakably enjoy--like if there's physical evidence of how i'm feeling (e.g., crying and being unable to stop smiling or talking abt it after seeing hamlet in a theater for the first time).

otherwise? i have no idea how i feel abt most anything. i have phobias and aversions. i have comfort items and things and sensory preferences.

aaaaand........that's all i actually know abt myself, anymore.

and that's terrifying as a person who craves control and knowledge and stability to be able to operate in this world.

so yeah no wonder i've felt broken and fucked up all week.

no wonder, even though the weight has been lifted, i don't feel great right now.

and it's just like....why did i need to be given this project in addition to all of my health stuff?

and i'm also frustrated, bc if the pandemic had never happened, i would be teaching rn and not questioning anything bc that's the path i set myself on for whatever pile of reasons i had.

and tbh i probably wouldn't be experiencing half of the health problems i have, bc they're triggered by stress, and my BIGGEST source of stress is from the pandemic, which is more stress than i can knowingly remember.

so i'm just. really tired and beaten down and now i'm not even an "i" i literally don't know who i am anymore.

and not like the run of the mill "what am i doing in life" but quite literally looking back at 28 years and going

"jesus fucking christ. what have i missed out on bc i avoided things i wasn't immediately good at and didn't immediately get external validation abt? what things did i sacrifice or ignore in myself for the sake of pleasing ppl and making them like and praise me? what things do i actually enjoy? what do i ACTUALLY want to do with my life? who even am i? what are my values?"

what even is my personality?

anyway i need to not rehash this bc i'll get a little worked up again.

but it did. feel. good ???????? i genuinely don't know. to just. finally figure that out. what was eating at me. what was really unsettling me.

and that has left me with a million more concerns and questions and v few answers at all. but at least i have somewhere to pick up from w my therapist next friday.

okay i'm gonna use my neck/shoulder massager and try and get ready for bed. gotta run through my game tomorrow w my mom to make sure i'm prepared for sunday and everything makes sense. gotta print out all of my notes and stat blocks etc. got various things to do.

//sigh. okay.

[sits back and sighs]

just thought of another realization

i chose all three of my names sort of bc of other people.

i mean. shakespeare and being mexican are also important to me, so there's that.

but now i'm wondering if i struggled to choose my first name (which i'm still perfectly //shrug. happy with ? i have no strong opinion i don't think? i did cry when someone first used it for me i think though) is bc i literally just don't even have a sense of who i am as a person at all. lol

ANYWAY.

i'd really like to be done with these earth-shattering revelations that completely uproot everything i think i know abt my self and my world and my life.

being a lesbian, being genderqueer, being autistic, being disabled--and now not even knowing who i am as a person.

[SIGHS LOUDLY]

[reidgraygubler]

Spoonful of Sugar (spencer reid/reader)

Title: spoonful of sugar

Request: yes! (a super fluffy spence x reader one shot in which she's sick with the flu, a high fever or something similiar, so he has to take care of her. Usually i'm not that super whiny and wouldn't request things like that buuut i'm in a desperate need for spence to take care of me while i'm ill and home alone.)

Couple: Spencer Reid/gen-neutral!reader

Category: fluff

Content Warning: spencer’s pov, anxiety about an ill partner, none that I can think of. If something does need to be tagged, please message me

Word Count: 1,638

Summary: Spencer stays home from work to take care of his partner, who’s sick with the flu

A/N: sorry this took so long to get posted. i forgot I had it written and it was just sitting in my drafts. it is a little on the shorter side... thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

The person who usually slept beside me did not sleep last night. I only know that because whenever they tossed and turned, it’d wake me up. But also, they kept stealing all the blankets from me. Whenever I tried to take them back, they’d wake up and steal them again. Or they’d be suddenly up in a coughing fit. And then, they finally fell asleep around the time I had to get out of bed for work. Leaving me with another restless night of sleep. I was used to it at this point, but not because of them.

When I left the bedroom, I made sure to be as quiet as possible. I didn’t want to be the reason why they woke up for the day. Clearly something was on their mind and keeping them up. I also made sure they had all of the blankets on their body. While I did that, I sneakily rested my hand on their forehead, and the back of their neck, just to check their temperature.

They were on fire. I’d never felt someone as hot as that in a very long time. It would explain why they got no sleep and kept waking up, and stealing the blankets. They’d need to get medicine and fluids in them, and quickly. But I’ll do that when I’m finished getting ready. They just fell asleep and I’d rather them sleep off their fever.

So that’s what I did. I quickly got ready for work, doing all the necessary things I had to do. I wanted to make sure my person had everything they needed before I left for work.

Which meant a quick stop at the market down the street. The market had their favorite soup, juice, and snacks. If I was going to go into work today, I needed to make sure they had everything they needed before I left for the day. And if they wanted me to stay, I’d do that for them.

“Hey Emily, I’m going to be late to the office today,” I said into my phone as I grabbed a basket. The store had several people, just enough for me to be cautious of where I was going. And it pressured me to be even quicker inside.

“Oh! Of course! Is everything okay?” Emily asked, the concern in her tone sounding genuine. I sighed before nodding.

“Yeah, just... Just need to take care of someone who’s sick,” I explained as I grabbed a bottle of orange juice.

“Take all the time you need! We got everything covered here.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Of course, call me if you need anything!” She proclaimed before bidding farewell. I sighed deeply before pocketing my phone and headed towards the deli to get some soup. They always gave me chicken noodle, with the good thick egg noodles. Since they also enjoyed White Chicken Chill, I got that for them, too. Anything to make them feel better sooner.

Once I got both soups, enough juice for a small household, and plenty of healthy snacks, I made the trek back home. Whether they enjoyed the things I got them or not, I knew they’d enjoy the thought. Because that’s all that matters, right? The thought?

When I got home, I prepared the chicken noodle in a bowl, and grabbed a bottle of juice with electrolytes, and brought it to the bedroom. They were still asleep, however slightly stirring. Instead of just leaving right away, I waited a moment for them to wake up.

“My head is pounding,” they groaned as they brought a hand to rest on their forehead. “Like I drank a fifth of whiskey,” they added. I held back my chuckle and sat on the edge of the bed.

“You’re hot.”

��Thanks so are you,” they blew me a kiss. I rolled my eyes before shaking my head.

“You have a fever, Dear,” I corrected as I handed them the bottle of juice. “I got you soup, juice, and healthy snacks.”

“You’re too kind, Spencer,” they hummed as they struggled to open the bottle. I watched as they sighed and handed the bottle over to me. I smiled as I cracked the bottle open.

“I have to go in, but if you want me to stay I can.” I handed the bottle back to them. They smiled brightly before taking a big sip of the juice.

“No, no, you’re the breadmaker here. You’d be no use to me here.”

“I can help you,” I breathed out a laugh. They lazily smiled before shrugging. “I’m gonna get you medicine.”

“If you don’t come back with Day and Nyquil, don’t come back at all,” they teased. I laughed as I looked back at them.

“Eat your soup, I’m getting you medicine,” I repeated as I pointed at the bowl of chicken noodle on the nightstand. They glared at me before picking up the bowl. I was quick, grabbing the medicine they asked for and a bottle of Aleve.

“Do you need anything else?” I looked down at them as I placed the bottles on the nightstand. They shook their head as they looked back at me, watching as I sat back down beside them.

“I’m all good here.”

“I can stay if you need me to,” I whispered as I looked over at them. They looked away from the bowl of soup with wide eyes. “Surely Emily won’t care. Family first.”

“As much as I’d love for you to stay, Spence, they need you just as badly there,” my person slurred their words. I could only imagine just how congested their sinuses and how blocked their nasal passages were. Which would only cause a migraine. “Besides, I don’t want to get you sick. You’re a baby when you’re sick.” They smirked at me.

“Am not!” I exclaimed as I looked at them. They shrugged before rubbing the underside of their nose. Should have grabbed them tissues while I was at the store. “Seriously, I’ll stay.”

“Seriously, go to work.”

“If I didn’t know any better it sounds to me like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“I am,” they mumbled as they blew softly onto their spoonful of soup. I rolled my eyes before standing up off the bed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go.” I lifted my hands as a sign of surrender. They looked up at me with a soft smile. “Good to know you can get rid of me so easily.”

“I’ll call you if I need anything.” They placed the soup back on the nightstand before shifting down the bed.

“And I’ll let Emily know I’ll be on desk duty.”

“Spencer,” they warned.

“I’m going! I’m going! Gone! See! Gone!”

“Love you!”

“Love you, too!”

I should have stayed home.

{***}{***}{***}

Okay, maybe Spencer should have stayed home because… I really miss him. I thought I’d be fine if he went in, and I’d get by… But I really want him. God I’m never whiny and asking for things, and the only thing I want… I sent it away.

I could call him… He’d drop everything and come right over. But… He should work. There is a reason why I sent him to work. That was where he was most needed. What if I was wrong though? What if he was most needed here, with me? No, no he’s the brain of the BAU.

But it’d be really nice if he stayed home with me.

Yeah, I made a mistake sending him to work. I’ve never felt so clingy in my entire life. Damn my stupid clinginess.

Did he know I was thinking about him? I must’ve, because he was calling me. Probably just checking in on me. I could ask him to come home. Unless he’s in the middle of helping a case and can’t come home.

“How are you feeling?” Yep, just calling to see how I was doing. It was probably a good thing that he was calling me. He probably just knew I wasn’t feeling any better.

“Could be better,” I paused as I looked over at his side of the bed. It was made but a little tousled around because of my sleeping. “Kinda wish you stayed here,” I whispered, mostly to myself.

“Already on the way home,” he stated like it was no big deal.

“Really?” I asked, feeling a little bit of excitement in my tone. Surely it just sounded like I was stuffy to Spencer. He laughed.

“Finished early. And… Emily noticed I was too distracted thinking about you. I’m about halfway there, do you need anything?”

“You… To get here quickly and give me all the cuddles in the world,” I dramatically sighed as I curled in on my side. “But… Safely!” I quickly added.

“I will be there soon, Dear,” Spencer mused before chuckling lightly. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I should be okay.”

“I’ll be home soon."

“Okay, bye,” I whispered before hanging up. I tossed my phone into the empty space beside me before curling back onto my side. Now that I knew Spencer would be home any minute, maybe I could sleep. Or maybe I should stay awake and wait for him.

Whatever, it didn’t matter. I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, Spencer was crawling into bed beside me and I was slowly waking up.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” he whispered as he pulled the blanket back over me. Although it felt like I was on fire, the blanket felt safe over me. Or maybe that was Spencer’s arms wrapped around me that made me feel safe.

“No, no,” I mumbled as I moved as close as possible to him. Spencer laughed lightly before pressing his lips to my forehead. “Don’t leave me again,” I whispered into his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

{***}{***}{***}

if you have any comments/questions about this part, let me know here! please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you’re a part of the taglist. it’s so much work tagging everyone.

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[vannybarber]

The Prenup: Part Two

Summary: After four years of being together and finally being engaged, Chris wants you to sign a prenup.

Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, chris getting his ass handed to him, a lot of pain.

Part One

Walking down the isle, you grab everything that looks remotely pleasing in sight. After you left the house, you were just driving nowhere. Having to refill your tank because you wasted all the gas, the crackhead at the station kept singing Mambo Number 5 and it made you feel slightly better. Now you were in the convenience store spending your feelings away.

You get to the pain pills and grab some Aleve. Your head has been thumping for hours now. You see a pink box and knock a couple of those in the basket too just because they're pink. Whipping over to the candy isle, you grab multiple bags of Starburst jelly beans just to spite Chris because you know he loves them. Moments later, your basket it full and you head to the front.

Tipping the basket, you dump all the contents on the counter. The cashier gives you this look and you don't blame her. You had 3 bags of jellybeans, 5 random candy bars, 2 pink boxes you still can't read out, a blue Mountain Dew, a dog toy and some Doritos. Absolutely random. The cashier scans all the junk food, but when she gets to the pink boxes, she look up at you and at your left hand.

You're in a daze, so you don't see her looking at you. Your mind was all over the place and frankly, you didn't want to think about any of the latest events. Not the prenup. Not the engagement. Not Chris. Snapping into reality, you pay for your groceries and take all the bags and walk out the store.

On the drive to the hotel, you pass the park where you and Chris met. That didn't help with your predicament at all.

Dodger had gotten off his leash because he was so excited to finally have a home. You were with your niece. She is so obsessed with dogs and wanted to meet every one. Dodger spotted her and pounced on her, giving infinite kisses.

Chris was freaking out. His dog just pounced on a two year old child.

You, on the other hand, were laughing your ass off. Your niece wasn't complaining either because she kissed him back.

He apologized profusely and you guaranteed him it was okay. You guys hung out for the rest of the day and decided to go on another date, without the kids. One date lead to many others and soon enough you'd met his whole family, vice versa, and started living with him. It was unreal.

And here you are infront of a hotel, with no ring or engagement and your fianceé almost an hour away. Oh, how the tables have turned.

You get out and receive your room key. You head up to your room and set everything down. You were so tired and worn out. Getting comfortable in the bed, you knock out almost immediately.

Meanwhile, back at your house, it's pure chaos.

"Chris do you realize what the fuck you just did?"

Scott is practically screaming at his brother, pacing around the room.

"Scott can you fucking chill? You're not helping the situation" Chris snapped back at him. Scott stops and stares at him like he's an idiot.

"We wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for your stupid choices. Tell him Ma!" He looks at her to back him up. Lisa stands up from her seat and walks over to Chris.

"Now Scott, Chris is a grown man. He can handle this situation, right honey?" Her hands are on both his shoulders, looking for him to respond.

"There you go. You always do this! You always baby him up whenever he's in trouble." He rolls his eyes. Lisa draws back from Chris.

"No, I do not. I let all of you sort out your own issues, with my advice of course. Shanna, Carly, do I baby your brother?" Chris throws his head back in annoyance.

"Um, yeah kinda.."

"Sometimes...Ma, but not all the time of course"

They say at the same time. They hated to admit it but when it came to Chris, she mostly got him out his problems. He's not used to solving them on his own. Lisa utters incoherent words in disbelief.

"That's not important right now. My fianceé just called off our engagement and I don't know where she is!" Chris interrupts, getting everyone back into focus.

"Technically she's not your fianceé if she called the engagement off, but it's whatever..." Scott mumbles with his hands up. Chris shoots him a 'fuck off look'.

"Well have you tried calling her?" Carly asks him.

"Yes, but she's not picking up. She can hold quite the grudge when it comes to her feelings." And he was right. You were very protective of your feelings and anything to harm that will be shut down ASAP.

"Well we just have to hope that she is trusting her better judgment and will come back, unlike someone in the room" Scott says sarcastically turning and sitting on the couch. Chris smacks his lips.

"Scott that's enough!" Lisa snaps.

"Well he deserves everything he's getting! He put himself in this situation. Now he doesn't have a wife and he's miserable. Could never be me."

Chris had enough. He moved quickly put his chair and into the bedroom, slamming the door shut. He sat at the edge of the bed and cried.

You had finally woken up and check your phone.

26 missed calls | 63 messages.

You text Lisa and tell her you're fine. Closing the app, you look at your homescreen. It's a picture of Chris laying on your chest asleep. His lips are parted and you're grinning in the screen. He looks like an adorable puppy. You grab your charger out your bag and plug it up.

Remembering the stuff you bought, you grab the jellybeans and open them. Seeing the assortment of colors, you go straight for the red ones. Chris' favorite. You were gonna milk this to the bone. You reach in the bag and feel one of the pink boxes you bought. Still not knowing what it was, you pull it out and read it.

First Response Pregnancy

You bought a damn pregnancy test. 2 to be exact. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or to smack yourself for wasting your money. Many thoughts went through your mind. Should you take the tests? Should you throw it away? What if you were pregnant? That last thought gave you shivers. Pregnant at a time like this? Were you even ready?

Looking down at the test, you decide to take it. Just for the hell of it. You knew you weren't gonna be pregnant because you take birth control. Not to mention you and Chris use condoms for extra measure. Nothing wrong with being safe.

You get up, pad to the bathroom and get down to business. You do all the steps and clean up after yourself. Now you just had to wait.

You were nervous as hell. You don't know why though. There isn't a chance you could be pregnant because you didn't allow there be one. You have been beyond careful. There would be zero possibility. Or so you thought.

After what felt like 5 minutes, your shakey hand grab the test and flip it over.

| |

You freeze and your eyes dart to the information section.

Not Pregnant- |

Pregnant- | |

You look back at the results. There were two lines. Absentmindedly, you shake your head and back up until your back hits the wall. You can't be pregnant. There's literally no freaking way. It's got to be false.

You grab the other test and take it. After 5 more minutes, you check it and there's two lines also. Now you were freaking the fuck out. Both tests are positive. You rush back in the room and dig through the bag for the other box. You grab it and take both tests at the same time. Don't ask.

After another 5 minutes, you stare at the back of the two tests. Moment of truth. You flip both the tests at the same time.

| | on each test.

This is where you fall on the floor in shock and fear. You were pregnant. With Chris' child. And you guys just had a huge fall out and you're all alone. You're not ready for a kid. Especially not now.

You bury your head in your hands and let the tears fall. How in the hell were you gonna tell him?

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i hope this part kept you guys' intrest like the first part😭 i felt the pressure today lmao

if you're bolded, i couldn't tag you. i'll personally message you ❤ thank you guys for your support. it means so much to me 🤧

[half-bakedboy]

Clary gets hit with a spell that allows her to hear people's thoughts. She decides to go to Alec to see what dirty secrets he hides but instead hears his bad thoughts. She makes it her mission to let Alec know he's not as much of a failure he thinks he is. She starts by leaving him notes of encouragement in his office.

An Unlikely AngelRead on AO3

Clary tried to drown out the voices. It was like every single thought was leaving others minds and bouncing around inside her skull. Magnus gave her something to ease the headache and was attempting to find a cure for whatever magical annoyance caused it, but she could still hear everyone’s innermost thoughts. 

Including, but not limited to: the shadowhunters that looked her up and down and vividly described what they would do to her, Jace’s constant internal self complementing, Simon’s rambling thoughts of comic book ideas and why Captain America should have never been able to pick up Mjölnir, and Izzy’s repetitive death threats to the shadowhunters that looked her up and down. 

She snuck into Alec’s office for a little peace and quiet, sitting in one of his chairs and holding her hands over her ears, anything to drown out the noise. She still heard the door click and watched it open. In a panic, she jumped behind the chair and hid, pulling her knees up to her chest and holding her breath. 

I really can’t count on you to make this family proud, can I, Alec?

A warlock? That’s who you choose to, to, whatever two men do together. 

No one will catch us if we sneak out, just this once, Alec. Please, for me?

I will not ask again.

Clary chanced a glance around the chair and saw Alec with his head in his hands, not dissimilar to how she had been sitting moments before. With the luck she was having, she shouldn’t have been surprised that Alec chose that second to glance up, his eyes flaring with anger when he saw her. 

“What are you doing in here?” Alec shouted. Clary stood up quickly and inhaled deeply, ready to make up some excuse. Alec shook his head and walked to the door, opening it and waving his hand. “Just, get out, Clary. Go find trouble somewhere else before it inevitably finds you here,” Alec said dejectedly. Clary nodded and made her way to the door. She couldn’t stop herself from resting a hand on his arm before she left. 

“You’re going to be a great Institute Head some day, Alec. I hope you know that,” Clary said, her voice soft as if afraid to break him. Alec just glared, something Clary was used to and expecting, as she finally walked into the hallway. Before the door shut, she heard one last thought. 

It’ll be a miracle if the Clave ever lets you run an Institute, Alec. 

Alec found the first note hidden in the second drawer of his desk, one he thought he had locked. He stared at it blankly, the white of the paper almost glowing in the darkness of the drawer. 

The Institute is lucky to have you. 

He had to admit that the note made him smile, even though he didn’t quite believe it. After that, he couldn’t begin to guess who was leaving the notes. He tried, he really tried. He spent hours searching for whoever was leaving the small acts of kindness whenever he seemed to need them the most. He thought it might have been Izzy when he read the second one that was hidden under his pillow. It made him blush with every word. 

One day, you won’t be ashamed of who’s in your bed. 

Alec looked forward to the notes from then, a guessing game that kept his mind off of the circling negative thoughts in his brain. He would search around his office, his bedroom, even the bathroom. He found the third in the training room and he thought it had to be Jace. 

Don’t forget to wrap your hands!

But when he didn’t know who to turn to, his parabatai missing, his sister consorting with downworlders, he found another note, this time with a picture attached. It was one of him and Magnus, Magnus leaning against him after he had healed Luke. He thought it was impossible to have been taken, but there it was, as clear as a memory in front of him. 

He’ll drop everything to help you. Don’t be afraid to ask. 

He spent most of his nights up entirely too late, unable to think about the notes, let alone guess who was leaving them. He had too many things on his mind and too many problems to solve. His eyes were sore from reading reports and staring at the screens in the ops center, the headache so prominent that he wasn’t sure the pain would ever go away. When he finally wandered to his room, he found a note attached to a bottle of Aleve. He felt his headache alleviate just at the sight of it. 

A good night’s rest helps. 

He rolled his eyes at it, but took the Aleve just the same. A few days later, when he fell asleep, head in his arms at his desk, he woke up to a sticky note on his forehead. 

I SAID A GOOD NIGHT’S REST HELPS. 

He found himself comforted by the notes. For days, weeks, months. Even in the darkest of times, they were there, a beacon of hope in chicken scratch. They were there even as he sorted through numerous complaints from the Clave. His name was highlighted in red on all of them, blaming him for all of the wrongdoings of an Institute he barely had control of. 

You are good enough. 

It’s not your fault. 

You are doing what’s best. 

Trust your gut. 

If anyone saw him wipe his tears after the reassurances, he would deny it. Adamantly. After a while, the notes seemed to stop. They faded out with every day, but he realized that he didn’t need them any more. He had his family on his team, his parents in his corner. He had Magnus in his bed, at his side, anywhere he needed him. He didn’t need the notes anymore. 

The last one came as he opened the second drawer in his desk, expecting to see the family ring, the one he asked his mother for a few days prior. Instead, he saw the glowing white of the paper and he felt his stomach knot at the sight. 

Magnus is going to be the luckiest man on earth (and in between) with a husband like you.

He felt a sense of finality when he shut the drawer and when he looked up, he saw Clary leaning in the doorway, a soft smile on her face, her arms crossed over her chest. He scrawled out a ‘thank you’ on a scrap piece of paper and walked up to her, placing it in her hand before pressing a kiss to her forehead. They smiled at each other, both of them thankful for what had formed into a friendship over that last few months. But really, Alec felt grateful to have a guardian angel like her. 

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 28

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Word Count: 4,322

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CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

Zoey’s parents stayed up talking to Harry for hours before they decided to head to bed. The new couple, along with Katie, put a movie on, talking through the first half as Katie expressed her astonishment at the two of them dating and talked about inviting her best friend to the BBQ tomorrow. Harry and Katie teased each other a bit at the way they talked and the things they said, and when the film finally ended, Katie excused herself to go to bed.

As Zoey left to grab Harry a pillow and blanket, still slightly embarrassed to have him in her childhood home, she felt like she was floating on clouds. All of this seemed like a dream - Harry flying here to win her over, asking her to be his girlfriend, even how well he got along with her family. Her parents were a little more strict than others, more so with Katie since she was the ‘baby’, but they had always been fairly welcoming to all of her friends and relationships, so it shouldn’t have surprised her. Especially since everyone loves Harry.

Even so, she was relieved that they all liked each other. She wondered what his family was like and how well they’d get along. Zoey considered herself pretty adaptable and got along with most people, but would she be able to create a close relationship with them like she did with Michael’s family? She didn’t want to compare. Besides, it was still too early to think about meeting them. She wouldn’t have dared introduce Harry to hers if they hadn’t already met each other.

Harry watched as his girlfriend rounded back into the living room with a blanket and pillow, now wearing an oversized tee and shorts that barely poked out from the bottom, her hair in a top-knot and makeup-free. His smile hadn’t left his face since she agreed to be his girlfriend. From the moment the words came out of his mouth, he knew he was making the right decision. In his heart, he knew that this time would be different. He felt it. And being here with her family in her childhood home was such an intimate experience that he felt like to know.

“You tired yet?” Zoey asked, plopping the pillow at the end of the couch, “You had a long flight.” 

He situated himself, spine pressed to the back of the couch, leaving space for her to slip in beside him. “Get in here,” he said, patting the space beside him.

She grinned, sliding in and throwing the blanket over the top of them, pressing her body close to his and tangling their legs together. Her head rested on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

“Thank you for coming,” Zoey whispered as Harry delicately ran his fingers up and down her arm.

Harry placed a kiss on the top of her head, “Thank you for being so patient with me.”

He heard Zoey snort before saying, “At least you didn’t wait months to figure it out.”

“Yeah. I learned my lesson,” he chuckled, “I can’t wait for all of the ‘I told you so’s from the boys when they find out. And how much do you want a bet I’ll wake up to texts from my mom and sister begging me for updates.”

“They knew about us?” Zoey looked up in surprise.

Harry blushed, “Yeah. They’re the ones who convinced me to fly here instead of calling.”

He noticed her grinning as she looked back down, pulling his hand to her lips and placing a soft kiss along his knuckles before interlacing their fingers again.

His mind wandered, thoughts of bringing her home dancing around his head. There was so much he wanted to show her in England. He wanted to bring her to the town he grew up in and show her around his old stomping grounds. He wanted to introduce her to all of his friends so they could finally understand why he never shut up about her. He wanted to give her a tour of his home so she could see the character and history, unlike his modern LA home she teased him about. But most of all, he wanted her to meet the other two very important women in his life. His mom and sister would love Zoey, he was sure of it. How could they not? He could picture them laughing, exploring the city, or even taking girls’ trips together. He could picture spending holidays and vacations as a family, playing all of their traditional family games, and having holiday meals together. It was still too early to bring her home; he didn’t want to scare her, but he was eager for the prospect. They already knew of her. That was half of the battle. 

“That reminds me,” Zoey suddenly looked up at him, “How do we want to pay this tomorrow? It's a small group of people, and I trust them all, but I know you don’t know them and might have your doubts. I want to make sure you feel comfortable. Should I just introduce you as my friend to be safe?”

Harry’s eyebrows raised and a galled smirk stretched across his face as if she’d just asked the most ridiculous question he’d ever heard. But internally, his heart soared at the knowledge that his girlfriend cared enough to be willing to forego the label of their relationship in case it made his life harder. It made him even more certain that he had made the right choice. And now, all he wanted to do was shout it from the rooftop for everyone to hear. But he’d settle for a few of her family friends at a backyard BBQ.

“Don’t worry about that. I can handle it. I’m your boyfriend now. You don’t have to hide me.”

The two stayed up talking for a little while longer. Harry had asked her how she was feeling about Paul now that she had some time to see him and she confided in him all the things that had been running through her mind since she’d gotten home. Her worry for when his time ends - will she get here in time? How will it affect Michael and Carol? But she was still in a state of disbelief. Even though he had seemed weaker, he was still as lively and energetic as the last time she saw him. It was hard to wrap her head around the fact that that energy would be gone in three months. How rapidly would it diminish?

He mostly listened, every now and then offering his two cents or a piece of advice. But he was impressed by how well she seemed to be handling it emotionally. He knew that wouldn’t last, though.

The conversation somehow ended with them discussing whether or not that had ever crossed paths with aliens at one point in their lives before the responses dwindled to hums and mumbles, and then silence as the two of them fell asleep, nestled together on the couch.

In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best idea to sleep together on the couch. By morning, Harry’s arm had gone numb and Zoey’s neck was so stiff that it hurt to move. After taking aleve, making some coffee, and having a bit of food with her family they were starting to feel a bit better and Zoey decided to take him on a little tour around her town. Of course, he had already seen where she went to school the last time he had visited, but he hadn’t seen much else. She drove him past the old playground her and her friends used to sneak off to and play inappropriate pre-teen games like spin the bottle and truth or dare.

“Let’s just say….I didn’t peak until WAY after high school.”

“Yeah, I saw your old family pictures. I could have told you that,” teased Harry, earning a small shove from his girlfriend as she drove on.

The next stop was Slyfox, the bar she and Jess used to work at and visited two days previously. It was closed still, not opening until 3 PM. She parked in the empty parking lot and told him all about her time there, working with her best friend, and the unforgettable memories she made. Harry couldn’t help but smile, listening to her recount old times with such joy that it made him almost sad that he missed out on it all. Her story was cut short when her phone rang and Michael’s name popped up on caller I.D. Instead of declining it like she normally did, she answered with a friendly “Hey.”

“Hey. Where are you?” he heard her ex-boyfriend on the other end.

“Just showing Harry around. Are you there?”

“Yeah, so are the boys. We just got here. Becky couldn’t make it. She had work.”

“Oh, I didn’t know they were coming. Alright. We’ll be right there.”

Harry’s stomach began to twist into knots as she drove out of the empty parking lot and back to her parents’ home. Suddenly the thought of meeting these people he had heard too much about began to make him anxious. And even though he had already seen Michael briefly the night before, the thought of being around both him and Zoey knowing of their long history together and how close their families were was enough to make him want to vomit. It was a lot of pressure. 

As they pulled up to her childhood home, Harry noticed a few extra cars that weren’t there when they left earlier. He shouldn’t be nervous; there was no reason to be. He’d already met her parents and knew they liked him. And he never had a problem with charming anyone before, yet still, his stomach began to do flips.

“You sure you want to meet everyone?” Zoey asked, putting the car in park. “There’s still time. I can take you to the airport and make an excuse.”

Harry forced a smile and grabbed her hand, squeezing it reassuringly, “Let’s go.”

Zoey took the key out of the ignition and they both made their way to the gate at the side of the house that led to her backyard. They could hear the sounds of laughter and loud voices carry out towards the street and they walked further to the back until everyone was in view. The first person he saw was Katie who was swinging on an old, rickety swing set with a wavy-haired brunette girl about her age, neither of whom noticed the two of them walking in. 

Within seconds, the loud call of “Zoey!” rang in the air, catching their attention in time to see four boys making their way over, shoving each other, and laughing. He instantly spotted Michael, who’s hands, arms, and neck tattoos made him even more intimidating in the daylight than it had the previous night when they had met in passing. He began to internally criticize every little thing of difference and similarity in looks alone between himself and Zoey’s ex, something he knew better to do than to go down that rabbit hole. But before he could get too deep in thought, they had finally arrived, each one of the boys giving her a friendly hug, one of whom even lifting her off of her feet which made his protective urge alarms silently blare in his head, forcing himself to play it cool, finally ending on Michael who turned to Harry with a smile.

“Hey. Nice to see you again,” her ex-boyfriend stuck a hand out for Harry. 

He grinned, shaking it, surprised to see that, once again, it wasn’t a death grip as it usually wound up being. “You, too.”

“Holy shit. I thought you were fucking lying,” Dan snorted, amazed at the sight of Harry, followed with nods of agreement from the others. 

“Alright, alright,” Zoey stepped in before anyone could start bombarding him with questions, “Let’s set a couple of ground rules, boys. First, no business talk. Got it?” she directed at Dan who held his hands up in defeat and stepped back, “Second, if you drink, you’re not wrestling on the trampoline. Every time you do that, someone winds up in the hospital. And last but not least, the most important one of them all, no one mentions Harry being here to anyone. And I mean anyone. Got it?”

Seeing Zoey so in control and demanding and how every one of the boys bent to her will in agreeance was so attractive to Harry. No one even tried to put up a fight and having Zoey take the initiative and set a boundary between her friends to make sure there would be no leaks just yet. 

“Yeah, fair enough,” Michael nodded in agreement, followed by the rest of them.

“So what IS the deal though?” Dan asked, pointing between the two of them with a smirk, “Are you two a thing or something?”

Zoey turned to Harry, but before she could even speak, Harry said, “Yeah, we’re dating,” placing a hand on the small of her back. His tone was friendly and kind, but he wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be any confusion on where he stood. Maybe a little part of him was still jealous of Michael. 

He half-expected the news to cause an uncomfortable awkwardness between them, but to his surprise, that wasn’t the case. Sure, Dan turned to Michael to see what his reaction would be, but Michael just smiled at them and nodded with a chuckle, “You couldn’t have gone for a minor boyfriend upgrade? To maybe a guy with better muscles than me? You had to go for a rich, famously attractive musician with better muscles?” Michael joked, causing them all to laugh.

“Don’t be silly,” Zoey plucked at Michael’s shirt and teased, “He’s also got an accent.”

This kicked off an eruption of laughter and banter that made Harry feel instantly at ease. He knew, based on the many conversations he had with Zoey about her pre-move personality, that although she was typically shy around people she didn’t know when compared to her more outgoing best friend, amongst this group of her closest friends she tended to be the center of attention. It made sense - she’s known them all for so long. But to see how much they cared about her in person was something new entirely. Sure, he’s seen the effect she’s had on her new friends in LA. And he was proof enough how quickly people would grow to care for her. But to see the dynamic between the five in front of him was somehow even more profound. They were family. 

And although the jealousy of Michael was still there, Harry became increasingly more aware that there was nothing more than mutual respect and love in a way that any would have with someone they’d known for years. There was nothing intimate about their relationship anymore. If anything, it seemed more like a sibling-type relationship now. They teased each other, had each other’s back, and had the other’s best interest at heart. Harry had learned about a new girl he was seeing and listened as his friends had nitpicked at little red flags at things they had deemed as red flags while Zoey stood up in defense of a girl she hadn’t even met. 

They had talked for a while, Katie and her friend eventually coming over and being given the same lecture that the boys had before Zoey eventually decided she wanted to talk to the adults and that she’d better introduce him to them. From a distance, he could already tell who was who. He could see the resemblance of Mr. and Mrs. Lewis from the pictures Zoey had shown him of Jess. She looked more like her father who stood around the same height as him, a beer in hand and laughing with Zoey’s parents and another couple to their right. When his eyes landed on Paul, he understood what his girlfriend meant when she said he appeared weak. He had never seen Paul before today, but he could almost picture what once was a strong, muscular man withering away. But appearances were misleading, because he was the most energetic of them all, laughing boisterously and dramatically arm gesturing as he told stories around the snack table. The adults seemed to notice their arrival and turned their attention to them. Paul was the first to speak.

“I was wondering when you were going to come and introduce him to us old-farts,” he said to Zoey with a smirk, “LA has really been good to you, it seems.”

Zoey laughed, rolling her eyes, “Seems so. This is my boyfriend, Harry.” Zoey went on to introduce him to Mr. and Mrs. Lewis, Paul, and Carol as her mother explained who their children were in reference to them. Harry kindly smiled, shaking everyone’s hands politely and offering a warm greeting. Understandably Mr. and Mrs. Lewis looked a bit confused as she had just told them yesterday that she was single, so Zoey clarified with a whisper, “It just happened last night,” which seemed to appease their confusion. 

Harry nodded, joking, “See what she does to me? I couldn’t stop thinking of her, so I had to fly all the way here to ask her out. I forgot phones existed.”

“That’s our girl,” Zoey’s dad grinned, earning laughter amongst the group. 

Paul nodded, “Well, she’s certainly worth it. This girl has been a godsend to our family. She deserves it all.”

To which both Mr. and Mrs. Lewis agreed, nodding towards her parents, “She certainly has. You raised her well.”

“Okay, now say something mean before I cry,” Zoey blushed.

Harry glanced between them all, their adoration for his girlfriend evident in their smiles and the way they looked at her. With each passing minute, she seemed to impress him more and more. There didn’t seem to be one bad word anyone could say about her other than Paul picking on her for her choice in movies and music or her bad driving. 

Harry took a scarce moment of silence to turn to Mr. and Mrs. Lewis with a soft smile and said, “Zoey’s told me a lot about Jess. I’m so sorry for your loss. I wish I had gotten the opportunity to meet her, she seemed like such a great girl. I almost feel like I know her from all of the stories I’ve heard.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Mrs. Lewis grinned brightly, earning a squeeze from her husband. He was worried that his words might have made them upset at the mention of their daughter, but to his surprise, they seemed delighted that he had mentioned her. Their eyes flickered towards Zoey briefly and he knew what it meant. They were proud. Proud of Zoey for keeping their daughter’s memory alive and for bringing it to LA, a place Jess had always dreamed of going. Zoey had kept to her word.

Harry continued, shaking his head, “No, thank you. If it weren’t for you, I don’t think I ever would have met Zoey. And I never would have had the pleasure of knowing about your daughter, or meeting you all. You’ve changed my life.”

This had taken everyone by surprise. Including Zoey. Her emotions almost got the best of her, but she held it in, instead, letting the butterflies whiz and flip in her chest while the adults stared at her boyfriend, impressed and touched. That’s it; he had won them over.

“He’s good,” Paul noted under his breath as the rest of them gave him hugs and thanks. 

The sounds of a guitar-strumming were heard from behind them and they turned to see Michael sitting on the retaining wall that separated the patio from the rest of the yard beginning to sing along with the rest of the guys in his band while Katie and her friend had bobbed and swayed along, singing in. 

“It’s not a BBQ without Michael playing some music, is it?” Carol laughed, watching her son sing You Know It by Colony House.

“That’s my queue,” Zoey grinned, pulling at Harry’s arm. 

Harry quickly waved to the adults before following her towards the boys. Zoey began to jump around and sing along with them, laughing energetically which made Harry smile. Gemma was right in convincing her to come here and he made a mental note to thank her when he got home. Michael and his band weren’t too bad, either. 

“Come on, Styles, join in,” Michael urged with a smile a few songs later.

Harry blushed, slightly embarrassed, but agreed, singing along to Dancing In The Moonlight by King Harvest. Seeing Harry getting along with the people closest to her filled her with such elation that she found herself having to sit and watch in joy as they all sang song after song with one another. The smell of burgers, hot dogs, and ribs on the grill wafting through the air made her mouth water and she couldn’t believe how happy she was at the moment. 

Zoey watched as Michael passed his guitar over to Harry, showing him the chords of a few of his band’s songs and let him play along as the rest of them sang. She couldn’t help but chuckle and shake her head at how intently he listened and played, almost forgetting who he was here with or that he was playing her ex-boyfriends songs with her ex-boyfriend’s guitar. From an outside perspective, she could see this whole situation being weird.

Michael then showed Harry the chords of a slower song of theirs and gave him the beat. From there, Harry was able to figure it out and the familiar sounds of the song Michael had written about her years ago began to play. Instinctively, Zoey looked up just in time to see Paul appear at her side, a hand on the middle of her back as he looked down at her, expectantly. She smiled, turning to him and taking his free hand in hers, placing her other arm on his side and laying her head on his chest as they began to sway.

She listened to the thumping of his heartbeat, trying her hardest to tune out all of the sad eyes that watched the two of them, knowing that this might just be their last dance together. Paul leaned back, making Zoey stand up straighter to look at him. She could see the knowledge in his eyes and the unspoken words begging to come out. His eyes searched her face, trying to decide if he wanted to speak what was on his mind, or not. He wasn’t known for taking things too seriously. But he thought, if there was a time, it was now.

“Thank you for coming,” he said to her again.

Zoey grinned, blinking, “Of course.”

“You know, I’m sorry if this makes you feel uncomfortable…” he started, “but I always thought that you and Mikey would end up together. Carol and I talked about what we thought your wedding day would look like and how many grandkids you’d give us,” he said, causing her to push out a sad, breathy laugh, “And I always thought that I’d be able to dance with you to this song at your wedding. And even though that may not be true anymore, I’m still so happy that he was able to have such a wonderful person in his life who brought so much joy to our son and our family. And I am so grateful for you every day. You deserve every bit of happiness that you get. And, even though you haven’t ended up with Mikey, I’m so glad you’ve found a good guy that makes you happy. I’m truly happy and at peace knowing that even with me gone, my family will have everyone here in their lives for support.”

Hearing Paul say all of his past hopes and kind words with finality made it all feel more real. This amazing man whom she adored would be gone alongside her best friend; arguably the two most important people in her life at one time. She didn’t want him to go. And a part of her was mad that he said any of those things, to begin with. His words were filled with such love and sincerity, yet still felt like a stab in the heart. A tear forced itself to the forefront and spilled down her cheek. Through her watery vision, she saw the tears collect at the rim of his eyes as he let out a shuttering laugh, pulling her closer to him in a tight hug and trying to hide the onslaught of emotions between the two of them. She knew people were staring. She heard the blunder in the chords as Harry had gotten distracted, and the crack in the boys’ voices while they sang along, but she ignored it, both Paul and her taking a deep breath and wiping their tears away. 

Seeing Zoey and Paul’s interaction tugged at Harry’s chest and his mind instantly flew back to his last interactions with his step-father before he passed. He understood why Zoey would take this so hard. Paul was much like Robin in personality; he had embodied strength, kindness, and love, capturing the hearts of all who knew him. Both were amazing men, being taken from their families too soon. His heart broke for everyone here who had to go through the loss of such an amazing person, and for Paul who not only had to go on knowing that his battle would be soon lost but seeing the suffering on the faces of the ones he’d be leaving behind. And at that moment, Harry made a vow to himself to make sure that everyone here would know how much they impacted him.

KEEP READING

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Taglist for Somebody To You:

@thurhomish​ , @stilljosiegrossie​ , @odetostep​ , @apples2019​ , @stylesmioamore​ , @inyourhaven

[venti3dieci]

THE DIZI TAG GAME

Rules: Answer the questions and then tag people you want to participate! (Also tag it #The Dizi Tag Game so we can see everyone’s lists)

Tagged by: @missloislane and @aslibekroglu thank you SO SO SO much! I was planning on doing it anyway even if I was never tagged because this seemed so fun so thank you for not letting me jumping off of someone else’s post

1. your first dizi & how you discovered Turkish dramas :

So, this is a long story so TL;DR: Kiralik Ask and facebook groups. 

Now, for the long story. It might have been 10 years ago now? probably less? I don’t know, since the end of highschool I have lost consciousness of time and what a year is and when it ends. Anyway, Kiralik Ask was all the rage in Italy and in the facebook groups I was in, people were talking about this and Cherry Season a lot (I’m pretty sure this wasn’t 10 years ago but I’m dramatic) and I became obsessed with all the videos and things and everything (of KA, I didn’t care for Cherry Season) BUT I did not watch it then. Years later, like maybe three years ago? maybe 2? No idea. I discovered Vatanim Sensin thanks to @rescuemeifyoucan and her posts about it and became obsessed with that as well so, like a normal person, I searched for Hileon videos on YouTube and found every single scene they were in (only Hileon scenes) and watched a lot of those videos, probably 3/4 of the first season, stayed up all night (fun fact, I went to sleep at like 8 in the morning and when I woke up a couple hours later I got called and did my stage/started working at the place I’m at) and that was my initiation to Turkish shows but since I did not actually watch it, only precise scenes, that is not technically my first dizi. About 2 weeks of VS and only VS I decided that it was time to watch KA (because I found a playlist of YT of every episode from the beginning with Italian subtitles and others in English subtitles if the Italian ones were missing) so technically this is my first actual turkish dizi watched, since it is the first dizi that I have seen complete episodes of, from the first episode.

2. show(s) you’re currently watching:

Technically none but also technically thousands. So, technically (expect this word to be the most used in this post) I am currently watching Menajerimi  Ara (haven’t watched since more than two months ago probably), Alev Alev (last watched I think last month) 50m2 (again, last watched last month), Kiralik Ask (it’s been a few years actually BUT I haven’t given up on it yet and I will continue it... someday), Her Yerde Sen (last watched probably last year? Maybe start of the pandemic, maybe before that), Kuzey Yildiz (last watched I think the end of last year), Halka (I have no idea when I stopped with this honestly), Kara Para Ask (last year? maybe? Before Her Yerde Sen I think), Benim Tatli Yalanim (around the time of HYS), Kimse Bilmez (again, around HYS time). I haven’t seen any of these for some time but they are all shows that I plan to continue sooner or later. It’s all shows I loved but put aside because I found a new obsession but I do get back to them sometimes.

3. your favorite genre of dizi (romcom, mafia show, contemporary drama, historical/fantasy, etc.):

Romcom. I do like some dramas but I tend to hate almost all of the characters except a selected few and I can’t handle all that hate, my liver cannot survive it.

4. the show you rewatch (parts of) the most:

I think KA? or MA? or HYS? They are my favorite shows of the ones I have started. Also Ask 101 (the only Turkish show I have actually completed and only because it’s not 10 thousand episodes long and it’s easily available on Netflix so it’s easy to rewatch again)

5. favorite Turkish actor and actress (feel free to pick multiples):

I have this problem, it’s names, I rarely know the names of actors, if I know them I forget them, I sometimes mistake the character’s name with the actor’s name, sometimes the opposite so let’s try this and see what mess comes out: 

Aybuke Pusat, the guy who played Demir on HYS, the two friends of Selin from HYS and the receptionist. Elcin (?) and Baris (?) from KA, Burcu (?), Alina, Kubilay, and the other kids from Ask 101, Dicle and Baris and Julide from MA, Hilal and Leon from VS, Cicek di Alev Alev, Cagatay Ulusoy (I remember his name! my beloved CaCa), The female protagonist of KPA (she was also in the first episode of MA which is the reason why I started that show), Hande Ercel, Kerem Bursin, Elcin (?), Melisa, the one who played the third main friend, the red headed girl, all from SCK, Ismail (?) and the actress of Yildiz from Kuzey Yildiz, also the three girls from there. Most of the cast of Hercai, although I hate more than half of the characters. 

I feel so bad that I don’t remember their name. I swear I love them!

6. a show you quit before finishing:

A few. First and foremost Sefirin Kizi (couldn’t get past episode 1). Erkenci Kus (hated the direction it was going, which was in circles), Ask Laftan Anlamaz (hated hated hated the lie that guy protagonist said. Wanted to watch after but I can’t do that to myself). Sad to say but also Sen Cal Kapimi. I loved it SO MUCH and then first he does that stupid break up thing that I hate (because it similarly happened in ALS and that is the whole reason why I never finished that show so already not a good start), then it seems to be picking up and we got the amnesia thing so yeah, nope, not doing it. Afili Ask (I liked it but not enough to continue and I have to give up on a few shows). Also probably Hercai since I enjoy how it ended in season one and never felt the urge to continue.

Technically most of the answers from the 2 question apply here as well but I do intend on continuing those, these ones, however, I will not continue. 

7. favorite song(s) you’ve discovered in dizi’s:

Birakman Dogru Mu 2 by Zeynep Bastik and Anil Piyanci, heard on Menajerimi Ara and the song that started my love for pop songs made in Turkey

8. the show whose plot disappointed you the most:

Sen Cal Kapimi and Ask Laftan Anlamaz are the ones that first come to mind. And Erkenci Kus. God, Erkenci Kus disappointed me SO MUCH.

9. a show that was cancelled too soon / ran too long:

Ran too long: definitely EK. And SCK (sorry not sorry, it should have ended right before the amnesia).

Cancelled too soon: I don’t usually watch shows that get cancelled soon (in the sense that I usually wait a bit before watching a show because I wouldn’t want for it to be cancelled while I am passionate about it) and technically I do not yet know if they were cancelled too soon, but I would say HYS and Benim Tatli Yalanim because I was loving them and I have less than 10-15 episodes left to watch

10. favorite character(s):  

The children in every drama are my favorite so Gul (Hercai), the children in Alev Alev, the child in Sefirin Kizi (the only character to save themselves in that show except for Gediz), the girl from BTY, Bulut (?) from Dolunay. Also CeyCey (EK), Baris and Dicle from MA, basically the entire cast of SCK (I might hate the direction where this is going but I do love the characters), the main characters from ALA (except for the main male protagonist, he can choke), the main characters from Atesbocegi, Suna from BTY, Reyyan (Hercai), a lot of others, I just don’t remember the names.

11. your favorite romantic pairing(s):

ReyMir (Hercai), LeyEm (Erkenci Kuş), Edser (Sen Çal Kapımı), Defom (Kiralık Aşk), SelDem (HYS), Suna x Nejat (BTY), DicBar (MA), Bahar x Kaan (Halka), Ibo x Ayda (?) (HYS), YilKuz (Kuzey Yildiz), probably others. 

12. favorite side character(s):

Cey Cey (Erkenci Kuş), Julide (MA) (I know people hate her but to the moment I’m at, I still love her), Ayda (?) (HYS), Burcu (BTY), again, others but I don’t remember the names.

13. best kiss:

I love the fire side (?)  kiss between Selin and Demir from HYS as well as their kiss when she thinks that he stood her up when in fact he didn’t even know that he was supposed to go on a date with her and so she gets pissed off (rightfully so) and he chases after her and OMG I love them! Also the first and second kiss between Nejat and Suna. These last three I have made gifs of, and they were my first gifs, unedited, kinda ugly, but I love them (not saying that I make good gifs now because I do not, they are still ugly and unedited but not my firsts anymore).

14. an underrated show more people should watch: 

Her Yerde Sen. And Benim Tatli Yalanim. And Menajerimi Ara (although more people were getting into it). And Alev Alev.

15. a show everyone loves that you aren’t interested in:

The one with Demet Ozdemir (BOK I believe is the tag). Never was interested in it but based on gifs alone, I think they had the character who is either played by an actor whose name is Ismail or the character is called Ismail make a 180 from season 1 to season 2 and I hate it when they do this kind of things in books and series (I might be wrong though) so now I have even less interest in it. Also Son Yaz. The gifs, I love them, but I don’t want to actively watch the show. I’ll enjoy it from gifs and posts about it.

16. a show you want to recommend right now:  

Menajerimi Ara, Kara Para Ask, Her Yerde Sen, Alev Alev, Benim Tatly Yalanim. 

17. the next show on your list:  

none, to be honest. I mean, I already have a LOOOONG list of shows to finish so it’s better that way. 

tagging: @rescuemeifyoucan and, for people who heve not been tagged yet, take this as the sign that I am tagging you.

[spacemilkies]

serendipity || captain allen x reader

for @thedevianthunterrk800 who unknowingly dragged me into the pits of hell dau. now i can’t play or watch footage without focusing in on this man. 

“I’m sorry, ma’am but no press are allowed on the premise without strict permission.”

The accusation nearly stuns you at first, before you realize in fact that you never quite shed your work clothing before venturing out. Not that it did much good now that you were caught red handed, you plucked your badge from you neck and offered a placating smile to the receptionist android.

“Sorry, I’m here on personal business not journalistic ventures.” As if to prove your point, you rose the hand clutching the bag of take out. “Just a wife bringing dinner to her husband.”

The android was quiet, her gaze giving you another look over. No doubt cross referencing your heart rate to your words. Perhaps had your husband not been employed at such a high risk job, a simple face recognition scan could have cleared you. But it seemed not even matrimony came with any real civil benefits. 

The android completed its assessment.

“I see. Please-”

“Hey, what are you doing here so late?”

A visible shudder of relief ripped across your skin as you whipped around. Appearing to be finishing up for the evening, Hank was looked about what you expected him to look first thing in the morning- ready to go home.

It’s easy to offer a smile in disguise of pity. “Figured if he wasn't going to make an effort for dinner, I could at least keep him from starving.”

“Yeah, is that why he’s so cranky? Missing one too many meals?”

Hank’s years of ‘facility’ comradery with your husband managed to bleed into a promising friendship of your own. It was a specific type of working relationship that only your hardened husband could achieve. Frankly most of his more social interactions were bridged by your efforts in some way or fashion. 

“Trying to keep him fed is a full time job.”

“Dealing with him period is a fucking career,” he muttered under his breath. Gratefully, Hank waved off the android. “Wife of the fucking SWAT captain, relax would you.”

“I honestly have no idea where he is but we all know his second wife is his desk.”

The obvious joke resonated differently with you than he likely intended for it to. In truth, your husband, his desk … and yourself had a bit of a polymourous relationship, to put it lightly. Not that you would embarrass David by bringing that up now. 

Maybe over drinks on night. 

Grateful for the unexpected intervention, you took advantage of the reprieve to escape through the security gates while you could. Waving to Hank, you bid him a good night.

“The fourth floor isn’t that big. He can’t hide forever.”

The few officers who did recognize you bid you a mix of greetings and farewells from those eager to return to their own families. As you climbed levels however, the gestures became more strict in the form of salutes and slim smiles that oozed stress. 

Rolling your eyes to the roof of the elevator, you began to pray that it wasn't a premonition of what to expect when you finally discovered your husband. You reminded yourself that you were merely there to deliver a meal, not stir up anything that could be settled at home. 

Your marriage worked this long because you respected those boundaries. The same ones that had been built without your knowledge back in university. 

By the relaxed posture of his assistant it was safe to assume he wasn’t in his office. Rachel confirmed as much with a quick wave.

“Captain Allen is in a meeting, ma’am.”

“Thats fine. Is his office open? Just dropping off dinner.”

She eyed the bag as if it was a saving grace. No doubt a prayer she’d made earlier in the day to try and aleve whatever symptoms were aggravating her boss’ nerves. 

If only it was so easy.

“I can get that for you.”

The panel in front of the door switches from red and blue, granting you access. You find yet another reason to send the young woman a nice gift basket. As if all the years of putting up with your husband didn’t earn her a vacation overseas.

Frankly, she might never look back.

“Thank you, Nancy.”

His office is as bleak and bland as the last time you’d entered it. Not even the wealth of his awards managing to permeate the walls. A few of the important credentials made the cut out of sheer necessity. You’d managed to break up the rest of the wall with two scenery photos. 

And that was it.

For someone who practically made his office his home, the lack of comfortably baffled you.

Placing the bags on the corner of his desk, you made yourself comfortable in his chair. Your job title aloe made snooping both enticing and forbidden. A thin lace of trust had been bestowed upon you given your connection to one of the largest media networks in the city. While your husband’s authority gave you more liberties than most it didn’t mean it couldnt be ripped away.

So against your journalist instinct, you kept your hands to yourself while you twiddled with a simple app on your phone. Fortunately, your husband didn’t keep you waiting long before you heard Nancy sharp cry of warning.

“Oh! Wait sir, your-”

You don’t know who is more surprised when you husband enters his office unaware. His shoulders stiffen briefly before he recognizes your silhouette by his desk, Nancy’s warning long forgotten. He looked like he was ready to chew out his next victim of the day and you could only snort in amusement. 

“Really, David.”

He’s wearing your favorite hoody of his- one you know come with a plethora of replacements but not a single is ever given to you despite your insistence. You’ve taken to wearing them briefly after laundry loads, while the house is to yourself. By the time he makes it home, its nestled comfortably in his drawer as if it was never touched. 

A secret compromise.

The door slides shut behind him as he approaches the desk. Affections pleasantly not forgotten as he leans down to peck at your cheek,“Its late, you didn't have to come by.”

“Well, I was hungry too. Figured you wouldn't want your food to get cold. Reheating meat will sometimes make it tough.”

David took the opportunity to peek into the paper bags, a hint of a smile triggering wider one for you when he recognized one of his favorites. You watched quietly as he unpacked the food, not missing how he arranged things carefully to keeps your safely confined while setting aside his own. 

It was an easier dismissal when you were expecting it. 

The hard edge of your neglected badge bit into your skin as you adjusted yourself against the desk, “Trying to get rid of me so soon, captain. I didn’t even get to opportunity to ask my questions yet.”

Unraveling the warmth of a freshly baked roll, your husband gave you an unamused grimace before taking a bite from the buttery loaf. 

“The SWAT team is not currently accepting any questions nor has any scheduled plans to council the press for ongoing operations.”

Your smile is as dangerous as your job implies, “So you guys are working on something top secret.”

“Would be home if it wasn’t.”

That was a lie and you both knew it. David would always find something to keep him occupied in his career. It had built him up and functioned as his stability. You were mere crutches on the sidelines waiting until you were needed.

As simple as it would be to challenge the claim, you thought better of it. Instead you continued to eat up time, relaxed comfortably in his chair while your husband was distracted with his meal. It seemed that his hunger had gotten to a point where he was reluctant to entertain anything that isn't satisfying his stomach. 

“Strip was sold out, so I hope skirt is okay?” 

Your husband wasn’t huge on grilling like some of the neighbors in your area but he did appreciate a good steak. Sometimes if you were lucky, he would even surprise you with a nice dinner in the kitchen on the rare occasions he actual beat you home or the scarcer days off. 

Using his teeth, David fought the crackle of the plastic wrapped utensil set,” Smells good, baby. Thank you.”

His obvious appreciation warmed you enough to coax a bit of boldness out of you. Walking your fingertips closer to the bag, you tugged it closer. “The renovators called back. They can fit us in next weekend to resurface the shower.”

Your house wasn’t old but there had been some changes you’d promised yourself when you’d first moved it. Earlier in your marriage, you had hoped to make a couples project out of it. But as the years passed, you began to understand that if you didn't  get someone else on the job it wasn't going to get done. 

Carefully pulling your own box free, you kept your voice even as your poked through your meal. “I’m having my mom come meet them that Thursday so they can do a final walkthrough for a quote. I’ll be home for the other days.”

“You’re not worried she won't change your plans?”

Twirling your pasta around your fork, you gave his question a thoughtful pause. It had crossed your mind. Your home wasn’t the first thing she had tried to intervene in. But you had made your own wishes noted in the initial meeting. Having your mother there was just supervision at this point.

“Nah, I'll be there for all the real work. I really just need her to keep Kaius calm.”

Retired from service but certainly not an impression on his age, the eight year old shepard still took his training seriously at home. It made it difficult to let anyone into the house without one of you there to assure him it was okay. The task was still difficult for you without David’s overwhelming presence to settle the canine. 

Resting his hip against the corner of the desk, your husband became visibly more relaxed into the conversation as he balanced the bottom of his togo box on his hand. “I don’t mind if he comes to work. He should be fine in my office for a day.”

You shrugged,”It's all worked out.”

At most, you were expecting one human to supervise a few androids. As impersonal as it made the job, it certainly didnt put a damper on efficiency. You expected nothing less than the projected project. 

He surprised you by leaning in then to press a quick kiss to your lips, a sneaky swipe of tongue catching the splash of sauce previously unknown to you. When you look up, he was watching you with that analytical look.

“I know what you’re doing.”

Caught, you could only smile sheepishly as you pointed the fork in his direction. “This is nice, don’t ruin it.”

Humming thoughtfully, your husband eventually returned to his own meal. 

David finished well before fullness crept in for you, his own haste favoring time over taste. But he was getting his nutrition so you found it hard to complain. 

A few tedious comments came to mind but none of them felt strong enough to tether him to a conversation. Accepting the time you got gratefully, you began putting away the leftovers to take home. 

“I’m off tomorrow so you don’t need to tip toe. I’ll leave the light on above the stove.”

Sometimes you found it funny how much your friends raves about the life you must have being married to a SWAT captain. Overwhelmed by their own fantasies of rugged encounters and frantic passion. 

It was true on occasion. There were times  that the stress of the job encouraged his hands to be a little more rough. Or time constraints found you bent over something convenient with your panties jerked to the side. 

As thrilling as it was, the novelty wore off quicker than it did in literature. 

There wasn’t a day you weren’t thankful of how well your husband aged, you just wanted more opportunities to appreciate it. 

You rise from your seat, expecting a final kiss of gratitude before you went on your way. 

You hasn’t realized your eyes had slid closed until they were opening in confusion at the touch of his thumb against your cheek. Against your better judgement, you leaned into the brief show of affection, lips parting to accept the pad of his finger. 

You know it won’t lead to much but the small stirrings it causes is worth the brevity. You crave his closeness whether he’s away like any wife would. But loving David Allen takes the punch of out love and jackhammers a new meaning into it. 

“”Thank you.”

The sincerity of it pressures your heart and your eyes close voluntarily this time, just wishing he would meet your expectation.

There is a pause, the silence tarnished by your audible sigh. Part of it is drawn back in a sharp gasp when his nose bumps against your own, then his lips find yours. 

The kiss is slow and measured, familiar even as you dare to run your palms down his front. His stomach curls under your touch, the lean muscle jumping slightly as your fingers challenge the hem of his pants. 

Swallowing, you taunt further with another tug. Venerability paints itself a lovely shade against your skin, coating you in a rosy blush. This wasn’t your arriving plan. But years have taught you that planning ahead rarely went well with David.

Carefully, you reach up and thumb the curve of his lower lip and draw him even closer. Even breaths waft over your face. Measured well, despite the proposition offered before him. 

In a mess of tongue and teeth, you whisper his name and teeter his resolve in the same breath. 

It has been a very long time since he’s humored an excursion like this and you’re patting yourself on the back for taking the chance. 

His mouth teases the skin at the nape of your neck and you wonder how far he plans to take this. His nose brushes against your ear next, nuzzling just under the curve where he knows you like it best. 

Your shirt rides up as he rolls his body against you, his hands quick to tend to your warm skin. His thumb teases the underside of your bra and it’s difficult not to let your mind wander.

Chest rising and falling in erratic intervals, you finally put a voice behind your desires. 

“Will fuck me here?”

David breathes in sharply then and for a moment you’re worried he’ll pull back to he senses. Your heart flutters nervously, awaiting a curt dismissal. But then a knee nudges firmly between your thighs and you find yourself biting your cheek to contain your grin. 

He continues to mouth at your neck while his hands answer your question, quickly and efficiently working at your belt. The hand not holding you in place slips under the hem of your pants with practiced ease. 

It will have to be quick but part of the thrill is inherit in the act itself. You know you’re already wet before his fingers reach their destination, his thumb flicking against your clit as his fingers curl into your sticky wetness. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, kitten? That’s why you came so late at night. Hoping to bride me into a quick fuck for your troubles?”

Part of you wished that had been your intention. You would have tried a hell of a lot harder if you’d known he’d be this willing. 

Sorry, Nancy.

There was always something sinfully dangerous about being taken in his office. To think the place where the city puts most of its trust will be defiled by your marital affairs will never fail to get you in the mood. 

David catches you before you can get careless, moving the food a safe distance away from your body before pressing you firmer against the desk. He doesn’t pay much attention to your breast but the stimulation from being pressed into the desktop makes up for it. Nothing else matters however when he’s dragging down his pants and your own with hast movements and lining himself up. 

It’s a slow sink- deep as he allows you time to open up for him. 

The situation doesn’t allow for it to be drawn out much longer than that. The frivolous teasing prior had already eaten into your limited time of unsuspicion. Not to mention any concerning noises that might permeate the door.

David does the sound control for you, risking quiet grunts as he digs his grip into the curve of your hip. His pace is slow but firmly backed by his weight as he quite literally fucks the air right out of your lungs, thrust near hard enough to shake the desk. 

He lifts his hips slightly, just enough too prod for the right angle, hitting that same spot again and again as you grip desperately at his arms. You return the favor, stealing his groans as you kiss back as vehemently as his hips grind into you. It only takes one good strategic thrust to capsize you under your simmering climax.

You remember a time, fumbling in college when you had to remind him to be wary- to pull out. Even early in your marriage you’d been cautious. 

Now, it was welcomed. The fact of not trying to try bleeding into a kink to take off the edge of pending results. You’d decided mutually to accept a child if the possibility arose but you wouldn’t make an intentional effort. 

Nearing your forties now, it wasn’t a forgotten proposition but it hardly factored into your mindset. It’s no where near innocent as your ankles dig firmly into his lower back, drawing him closet and locking him in.

Your husband’s hips stuttered briefly as his fingers reassessed their grip before he resumed his pace with firmer thrusts. Each one bouncing off the round of your backside. The hand at the base of your spine keeps you anchored- not that you’d made any attempt to disagree with anything he was giving you. 

He seemed to reward you for that, a lazy thumb counting your vertebrae in its travels, eliciting a quivering pleasure.  

“Maybe this is the key, huh? You’re always so much more receptive when there is the potential for audience.” 

He knows and fuck, you miss that voice. The way it rumbles deep in his chest before tumbling out in timber. 

“Of course, I’d never let them see. But I’d be happy to show off the results, hmm?”

His hands slid to your flank before curling around to flatten against the plane of your belly. It stays there, stroking the pseudo curve implanted in his head. 

He encourages you to grind back into his quickening thrusts, the fingers at your hip dragging you back in assistance. Whining, you dip your chest and arch your back. Your actions echo your thoughts. Faster. More. Deeper. Please

“That's what you want, right? For me to fill you up, baby?”

God… you drool around the thought. Your words fumbling around gurgles as you attempt to collect yourself enough to stop moaning and properly respond. Blood rushed in your ears and floods down your body. Working yourself up from your toes, you flex them, pushing your weight to your feet and lifting. It offers you a better advantage to pushing back into each eager thrust. 

Rather than praise your efforts, your husband only returns your gesture by carding his fingers through your hair. Tightening. Shoving down. 

“Fuck, yes, Dav-“ You hiss when he knocks particularly hard against your cervix to which he mends with an apologetic kiss to the back of your head. His thrust slow marginally, just enough to regain control before he’s coaxing you again with a nip to the shell of your ear. 

“Tell me, kitten.”

You reach for something-not sure of what. Neither does he it seems, but his hand finds yours anyway to which you curl them both the fabric of your chest. 

“I want it all-please.”

He jerks you back-once...twice before suddenly you’re overwhelmed with the weight of him on top and the pressure of him inside. 

You lie there for a short time, uncomfortable, but too laced by exhaustion to do much else. The feeling of fatigue crept onto you both with out warning, using the disguise of passion to worm its way inside.

He’s not perfect. Neither yourself or this marriage. But where most had doomed you both to fail, mutual perseverance told the rest to go fuck themselves.

There wasn’t much else either of you could offer to the remaining hours of the night. With that resolve, your slow rhythmic strokes against your husband’s back came to a halt, slightly rousing him in the process.

“Mhmm, come home with me, yeah?”

He heaves a sigh but you know you have him. 

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

[eldritchsurveys]

1081.

1 - Have you ever made money selling stuff online? What was it you were selling? >> I have not.

2 - Do you have a valid passport? When was the last time you used it? >> I do not.

3 - Who was the last person who left you a comment on social media? Is this someone you’re close with? >> Uh... I’m guessing that was Sparrow, yesterday. Or whenever it was when I was talking about Tree God shenanigans.

4 - When was the last time you missed a call? Did you ring that person back? >> ---

5 - Would you rather wear socks, shoes or go barefoot? >> Go barefoot.

6 - Is there anything unusual in the room you’re in at the moment? >> I don’t know how to think of anything in my room as “unusual”. None of it is unusual for me, obviously.

7 - Are the windows open at the moment? >> My window is cracked.

8 - What was the last song you sung along to? >> I don’t remember. I think I might have hummed along to some FFXIV music.

9 - What was the last piece of fruit you ate? What about the last vegetable? >> Does jam count? I had raspberry jalapeño jam on toast earlier. Other than that, the last fruit I would have had was apple in the apple crisp Sparrow made for Thanksgiving. The last vegetable was squash and carrots, about an hour ago.

10 - Would you rather send an e-mail or leave a voicemail? >> Send an email.

11 - Have you ever lied to the police or a customs official? Were you ever found out? >> No.

12 - Are you expecting any parcels in the mail in the next few days? Are they things you’ve ordered yourself or gifts? >> Not unless my quartz gets here in the next few days. I don’t expect it to get here any time soon since it’s coming from across the ocean.

13 - When was the last time you spilt something down yourself? Are you a clumsy person in general? >> I don’t remember. No, I’m not a clumsy person in general.

14 - When was the last time you had some fruit? What about a vegetable? Do you regularly manage to eat your five a day? >> Well, that’s a repeat question. But I’m pretty sure I don’t manage to eat five separate servings of either thing in a day.

15 - How often do you change your bedsheets? >> They get washed every two weeks.

16 - What TV channel do you watch the most of? What was the last programme you watched on there? >> I don’t have cable. I think my viewership is split pretty evenly among the streaming services I use.

17 - Are you much of a procrastinator, or would you rather get things out of the way so you can relax? >> I would rather get things out of the way so I can relax, usually, but sometimes my brain just doesn’t want to operate that way. That’s why it’s a dysfunction.

18 - When was the last time you took an exam of any kind? >> ---

19 - What was the last reason for using a plaster/band-aid? >> I don’t remember.

20 - Do you tend to wait until the Sales to buy things, even if that means you might not get your size/colour? >> I’d rather get what I actually want, even if it means I have to wait a long time (either for a sale on the actual thing I want, or until I save up enough/somehow acquire enough to get it at regular price).

21 - What snacks/drinks from your childhood do you wish they still made? >> ---

22 - Have you ever lived on a farm? Would you want to? >> No. I don’t know, I think the smell and the chores would do me in after a while.

23 - Would you rather live in an inner city apartment or on a ranch 50 miles from the nearest town? >> Those are two ends of a spectrum that I think I fall somewhere in the middle of. I’d like to live somewhere removed from people, but not far enough away that everyday living becomes extremely inconvenient. Also, I’d like to have a good internet connection, and you need to be relatively close to civilisation to have that. (Also-also, I want to be surrounded by trees and stuff, and a ranch usually doesn’t look like that...)

26 - How do you have your hair styled right now? Is that normal for you? >> It’s just buzzed. Yes, that’s normal.

27 - What kind of baby animal do you think is the cutest? >> I couldn’t say. I think most of them are adorable.

28 - Have you ever lied to the police? What was your reason for doing so? >> OP was tired when they posted this survey, huh. lol

29 - What’s your favourite type of cheese? if you’re not a cheese person, how about your favourite type of chocolate? >> There are a lot of cheeses I like, depending on what I’m eating it with.

30 - When you get headaches, what do you do to make yourself feel better? >> Take an Aleve and drink water, and wait. There’s really nothing else to do. Luckily, I don’t get debilitating headaches and I can still, like, function.

[rachelthompsonauthor]

The past two quarantine months have been like nothing I’ve ever experienced in my lifetime, and I turned 56 in January. So rather than regurgitate what you’ve likely read in the news or on social media, I’ve decided to share how I’ve spent my time these past two months along with random thoughts. I hope you’ll continue along with me as I share what I’m doing each week.

Books

Oh, how I’ve missed reading! With my business so insanely busy (for which I’m truly grateful) these past few years, I’ve barely had time to read little more than Slack, emails, texts, and social media updates. Not exactly satisfying for this lifelong, avid reader. This quarantine has allowed me a little bit of extra time, which I’ve put to good use.

In no particular order, here’s what I’ve read: 

The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow is fantastic. Read it in one sitting because I didn’t want any of the details of this lacy, incredibly intricate work to fade. I highly recommend it. A mix of fantasy, drama, and a love story (because in the end, aren’t all stories love stories?), anyone with a working brain will love this novel.

  Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng is also superb. I’d heard about this book for a while, yet only got around to it because it’s also now a mini-series on Hulu (which I watched afterward – also very good, though the character arcs and the plot changed in crucial, at times startling, ways).

Curious if you’ve read the book and watched the series, what your thoughts are? I could write an entire post about it, yet I’ll only share this…

As a child, my parents hire a housekeeper. My folks both work full-time and we are not in any way rich or well-off. Neither of my folks has college degrees – Dad is an assistant manager at a chain drugstore and Mom has just completed x-ray tech school and works nights at San Bernardino County Hospital. We live in a small house on a long street in the smoggy Inland Empire of California.

There are two of us, my older sister and me. Then my mom gets pregnant when I’m nine and has my baby sister when I’m ten. My folks advertise for a housekeeper and Miss Louise answers. She’s African American and willing to work for the little they can pay her. She smokes a lot (outside only, so as “not to hurt the babies”), insists on wearing a uniform though my mom tells her it isn’t necessary and comes looking for us in her big old white Caddy if we aren’t home from school exactly 20 minutes after it lets out.

(Miss Louise’s husband’s name is George. If you are alive in the 70s and watch The Jeffersons, you understand why this is an endless source of amusement to my sister Caren and me.)

Being that young, neither Caren nor I understand what privilege means. We didn’t get whatever we wanted because my parents are always strapped, yet there is food on the table, and the lights are always on. Except for the occasional venture to Disneyland or Knott’s Berry Farm that one time (mom hated it), our vacations consist of driving to visit our Zayde (great-grandfather) in a nursing home in Santa Cruz, or some other relatives we don’t know somewhere in L.A. (I remember one great-aunt who drank. A lot.) We’d always stop at Cantor’s for a soup and sandwich (the highlight for us), and be back on the road. We don’t mind because it is anywhere but home.

Anyway – my entire point is that in Little Fires Everywhere – the show – Kerry Washington’s Mia is an artist who takes a maid job with Reese Witherspoon’s Elena Richardson’s family to keep an eye on her daughter Pearl, who is quite taken with the teenage Richardson clan. The racial and financial dichotomy is blatantly obvious: a rich family who’s seemingly got it all vs. a seemingly poor black single mother, which adds to the ‘fires’ mentioned in the title.

The book really made me think about my own privilege and despite how well my folks treated Louise, and how much we loved her, and she us, there would always be that wall. Granted, it was a business arrangement and my folks paid her for her services, and in truth, anyone could’ve answered the housekeeping ad. The fact that she was African American and we were white created a racial divide that’s undeniable.

The third book I read is Certain Cure by Jennifer Valoppi, also excellent. It’s the first in a series (parts two and three aren’t out yet, darn it). The novel chronicles the life of three generations of the Cummings family; Claire, a woman in her 70s who has been diagnosed with terminal cancer, Helene, her television journalist daughter and Justin, the teenage grandson whose adoration of his “Grams” leads him to discover the dark secret behind the miracle technology that is not only curing Claire of her cancer but tempting his mother with eternal youth, as traditional medical industries wage war against the mysterious doctor from China who threatens them all.

I had no idea what to expect with this one, and I’m glad I read it. Valoppi is a former TV journalist from NYC so she knows her stuff. I’m not particularly religious (or scientific), yet I didn’t find either the science or religious stuff bogged me down.  Fascinating read. I highly recommend it.

Movies and Shows

Gosh, so many. With four of us in the house (and two teens), it’s worth it to me to pay for Hulu and Netflix, Amazon Prime Video comes with my Amazon Prime membership already, plus my internet plan comes with AT&T Direct, Showtime, HBO, and other premium channels. For the amount of entertainment, it’s worth the money.

I watch movies and shows on my iPad at night, once I’m finally off my computer. I don’t know about you, but I don’t like a super loud TV with stereo surround-sound barking at me after a long day of noise and stress. So I go upstairs to my cozy bed, surround myself with blankets and pillows and cats, and snuggle in for a few hours to watch a movie or a few episodes of something I enjoy.

Another note: not a big ‘reality TV’ watcher, mostly because, as a writer, I prefer well-written shows. I also don’t like the negativity and yelling normally associated with those shows. That said, I do watch Vanderpump Rules (on Bravo) with my daughter (age 20). We bond.

Shows

Here’s what I’ve binged these past few quarantine months, show-wise (no links because you can Google):

Ray Donovan – ggggggreat! Heard it was wonderful, yet truly had no idea how awesome. Liev Schrieber is captivating as Ray. Flawed, human, sad, and, in case you don’t know, a childhood sexual abuse survivor (church abuse). I had no idea going in this would be a theme of the show, yet it was handled with care and truth. The entire supporting cast is also amazing. Every season is great. Watch it all. I hated to see it end.

Homeland – the first four or so seasons were mesmerizing. Then, I got bored. This last season had me falling asleep and then WHAM! that ending. Worth it.

Hunters – Good, not fantastically great. The twist in the last episode will get you, though.

Upload – Loved it! Thought it would be silliness (and in some places, it was, but that’s okay – we need a little silliness right now). Had a ton of heart which I love.

Bosch – come on, it’s Titus Welliver. He’s fantastic. This last season didn’t draw me in as much as the entire rest of the series, though. You?

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel – terrific, all of it. Every season, every episode, every character.

Tales From The Loop – amazing. Anything having to do with time-travel or the bending of time, I’m a total sucker for. This hurt my brain in a good way.

The Feed – weird but good and thought-provoking.

Dark – by far, my favorite show year. A German show dubbed in English (you get used to it – don’t let that scare you off), this time-bending, decade-moving hit show spans two seasons and every episode is worth watching. And the music – my god. Amazing. Here’s a Spotify playlist link.

Movies

Parasite – thought-provoking. Took a while to get into it and then boom! It just goes full-on insanity. Well-written, well-acted, and the message of the movie is just, wow. No spoilers in case you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it.

Hustlers – loved it. Whatever issues people have with strip clubs and ‘dancers,’ get over it. These girls are amazingly talented, are in amazing shape, and work hard to make money for their families. What I loved the most about the movie is that it’s all about the women; the men are only there as a plot device. It’s a movie entirely shot through the ‘female gaze’ (though of course, men will enjoy the dance scenes which are sexy, yet not unclothed). How many movies can say that?

Memento – I think I’m probably one of the few people who had never seen this neo-noir psychological thriller starring Guy Pearce looking like Brad Pitt (who was originally considered for the role). It was great, I think? LOL. My brain still hurts.

Call Me By Your Name – Lovely, sad, gorgeous. (And I will not make a juvenile peach joke.) And the music! Oh, my.

Zombieland – I hate zombies, I hate horror movies. I hate gore and squishy sounds. This movie was cute. (Not ready for the sequel, yet.)

Music

As mentioned above, the music in Dark sent me off on a ‘who are these talented musicians?’ lark. I’ve discovered so many. Here is who I’m listening to right now (all free on Spotify) and links provided here:

Apparat (you’ll recognize the opening theme of Dark and stay for the rest).

Agnes Obel – wondrous. I’ve played her entire catalog repeatedly since discovering her music on Dark. She’s become a commercial favorite as well now. Familiar is the song used in the show that’s received the most play.

Alev Lanz – otherworldly. I’ve not heard anyone like her. Her songs on the Dark soundtrack and Black Mirror are what she’s most noted for (May The Angels, and Fall Into Me, respectively), however, I love all of her work. Her harmonies are like nothing else. One song is layered with her voice and African throat singers – it’s gorgeous (May The Angels). She’s active on Twitter and we’ve interacted a few times. She’s beautifully transparent about her love of music and it shows in all her work.

Patrick Watson – I heard this song, Good Morning Mr. Wolf, on the Ray Donovan soundtrack and immediately clicked my SoundHound app. Who is this talented being? This song, in particular, sounds so large and cinematic – I wondered – is he is a film composer? (yes). A band? (yes). And so much more. I cannot get enough of all of his music, and still, I play this one song on repeat – repeatedly.

London Grammar – I discovered this band a few years ago and still adore them. Strong is still my favorite song, though Rooting For You is a close second. Hannah Reid’s vocals are big and beautiful.

Hilary Woods – ethereal and lovely. Especially the song Kith.

Sufjan Stevens – many of us just discovered him from the movie Call Me By Your Name soundscore, however, he’s been a working musician since the early 2000s. Talented beyond.

I could go on and on, but I’ll stop here. I made a Female Rockers list on Spotify which you’re welcome to.

Thoughts on Quarantine

My Business

Living in California, I’ve barely left the house in two months, with the exception of going to the pharmacy for meds or for the occasional physician appointment for me or the kids, because of the quarantine restrictions in place. And I’m okay with that.

I’m fortunate that my business is primarily online-only: I work with authors and small businesses on their branding, marketing, and promotion, so given that all real-life events are off the table, I’ve been quite busy working with my clients to ensure their products and services are still viable.

This doesn’t mean I don’t need help as a small business. I applied for an SBA loan and couldn’t even get onto the website the first time – it was pretty ridiculous – like the end scene in Beetlejuice. You all know who those first small business loans went to, right? Not small-potatoes people like me. So the second time around, it went much smoother, and I’m grateful to have received a small loan which will definitely help me keep going with rent, insurance, and other expenses.

I still did my annual non-profit initiative for writers, NaNoProMo (National Novel Promotion Month) this year over on my business site, BadRedhead Media, yet only for two weeks instead of the entire month. Daily blog posts from experts on everything publishing-related plus amazing giveaways. It’s always exhausting, yet I find enormous gratification in helping writers.

This year, however, getting writers to comment to win amazing, FREE giveaways was like pushing a house up a hill. I get it – people are focused on putting food on the table instead of commenting on blog posts, even if the giveaways were worth $500. That’s why I wanted to do this initiative this year – to help writers who are in a jam – yet only a smattering of writers participated.

I’m seriously rethinking if I want to do it next year given the financial cost as well as the personal toll. My first therapist, who I started seeing after I gave birth to my daughter Anya (I was terrified to leave her to go back to work, given my history with childhood sexual abuse), gave me this tip whenever I had trouble deciding whether to do something:

“If you ever aren’t sure if you should do something, ask yourself this question: Is this good for Rachel? If the answer is yes, do it. If the answer is no, don’t. It really is that simple.”

Self-care, y’all.

Social Media

I’ve stopped interacting with the crazies on social media (and who knows, maybe you’re one of them so truly, no offense), but I’d rather stay safe and keep my family safe by working exclusively at home – which I mostly do anyway – than venture back into face-to-face meetings with clients. I support four people with my business and if something happens to me, four people are doomed.

So the answer is simple to me: stay home, work from home, and don’t risk dying from this virus.

I don’t buy into any of this ridiculous conspiracy crap. Sorry, not sorry. You can if you want to. Spending time arguing with people online about it takes away time from my business, my kids, my guy, and my own sanity. Speaking of which…

Mental Health

There were a few mix-ups with my meds when this all started, and I couldn’t get my prescriptions filled and delivered before I ran out, so I ended up having about a week of insomnia which I’ve never had to deal with. I was a zombie (the non-squishy kind) and it sucked.

If you have insomnia, I’m sorry. I feel for you.

It’s all straightened out now, thank goodness. My son Lukas and I donned our masks and drove to the local CVS the other day because I couldn’t wait two days for my meds to be delivered. It felt like walking into a dystopian future walking in there: everyone in masks, tape six feet apart for the waiting line, plexiglass between us and the cashiers.

I’m thankful for these measures, of course, and wonder how long we’ll need them, or if this is our new normal?

My Writing

I finished the final edits on Broken People and sent it back to my editor. She’s had some health issues, so the delay is understandable. To be honest, I’m not in a huge hurry to launch a new book right now. Here are the questions that run through my mind:

Do people have money to purchase a new book?

If they do, will they want to read my new book?

If they do want to read my new book, will they take the money they do have to read mine, and then review it?

Does it even matter in the grand scheme of life? 

I’m an author just like any author – I want to get my work out there so people can read it, engage with it, connect with me. I hope they’ll like it, feel something, reflect on their own lives, learn something new, particularly about being a childhood sexual abuse survivor. It’s a weird limbo to be in right now.

Our New Normal

This phrase is bandied about quite a lot yet let’s face it: it’s life as we know it, now. The anxiety is real, too. I haven’t hugged or kissed my elderly parents who live two miles away in two months. I bring them toilet paper and cookies from our favorite bakery (drive up and trunk drop off, pay online only) and drop it on their porch.

All these scenarios run through my mind: If I go to do this, what happens if? I know I’m not the only one. And yet, we can’t predict anything. So I sit here, writing this post, safe inside my little house bubble, grateful I can pay my rent, put food on the table (delivered by Instacart, thankfully), and everyone around me is healthy.

What’s your new normal? What have you been reading, watching, and listening to? If you’ve stuck it out this far, I thank you. Would love to hear your comments! Safe hugs, y’all. 

***

Read more about Rachel’s experiences in the award-winning book, Broken Pieces.

She goes into more detail about living with PTSD and realizing the effects of how being a survivor affected her life in

Broken Places, available in print everywhere!

                The post This is How To Spend Quarantine With Me appeared first on Rachel Thompson.

via Rachel Thompson

[rawresparza]

“It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.” I'm curious where you'll go with this 👀👀

Probbbbbably not what you had in mind but a scenario came to me and I ran with it. I did change it to scotch, though. I hope you like it

TW: mentions of past abuse

–

It’d been sometime around four in the morning when Rafael had realized what a terrible idea it was to spend the night in his office.

The couch has never been easy on his back, he’s talked about trading it in for a fold-out or even a portable cot for ages but every time an actual opportunity to do it comes up, he either finds himself to be too busy or, though he’d never admit it, too lazy. Besides, a cot would throw the aesthetic of his office into complete disarray and he refuses to let that happen.

With a groan, he shifts for what must be the hundredth time of the evening–

(Morning? The sun is already peeking through the blinds.)

–and when he peeks at the clock on the far wall, he realizes it’s well past five. He’d gotten almost a couple hours in, then. There’s one thing he’ll be willing to celebrate today.

He glances at his phone, face down on the coffee table, with a twinge of guilt nagging at him. It’d buzzed all night, over and over, and Rafael knows all he’d needed to do was send just one quick message back to avoid any unnecessary concern but he hadn’t been able to find the heart to do it. Besides, he’s kidding himself. Had he told Sonny the truth, had he told Sonny why he’d felt the need to sneak out of their bed half past midnight and grab an Uber to his office, Sonny would have been out the door of the apartment before Rafael could have asked him to stay put.

He’d just needed the time alone. At least, that’s what he’d thought. It doesn’t seem to have helped all that much and now there’s an ache in his back to go with the dull one that’s been pulsing in his chest for the past week.

It’s almost over. Just give it another twenty-four hours. It’s almost over.

After staring at the ceiling for another fifteen minutes, repeating that joke of a mantra, Rafael finally concedes. Sleep is futile. It’s almost as if the universe is agreeing with him when there’s an unexpected rap at his door that nearly sends Rafael tumbling to the ground.

Scrambling to get up, he looks down at himself, at the worn sweats and plain white tee that has three holes near the hem from being washed so many times, and lets out a short, hysterical laugh. With minimal effort, he pats at his hair, not entirely sure of what his next move should be because frankly, he hadn’t expected anyone to come knocking on his door because nobody should have expected him to be here.

“Who is it?” he calls, taking a cautious step toward the door.

“Open the damn door, Rafael.”

Oh.

“Shit,” Rafael mutters under his breath, letting out a deep exhale as he crosses the room to unlock the door. Opening it just a crack, he peers out at the familiar face, squinting. “Sorry, did you have an appointment?”

Looking wholly unimpressed, Sonny rolls his eyes. “Funny,” he says dryly. “You letting me in or not?”

Rafael shrugs, stepping back from the doorway and spinning on his heels to head back toward his desk. The ache in his back has deepened, so has the one in his chest, and now he has the start of a migraine to top it all off, a holy trifecta to complete his hell. He plops down in his chair, pulling open his bottom drawer and finding two very different solutions: a bottle of 15-year-old Macallan, still unopened and waiting to be used for a monumental occasion, and a bottle of Aleve.

Smiling wryly, he grips the neck of the Macallan and holds it up for Sonny to see, giving it a little shake. “Thirsty?”

Sonny shuts the door firmly behind him, locking it, then crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having scotch.”

“You’re no fun.” Still, Sonny is right so Rafael sets the bottle back down, trading it for the naproxen. He shakes two tablets into his palm and swallows them dry, cringing as they go down and pointedly ignoring how closely Sonny is watching him. When the room stays silent, Rafael sighs, leaning back in his chair. “How’d you find me? Lover’s intuition?”

“Find My Friend app,” Sonny shoots back, arching a brow. Rafael thinks he almost looks smug. “Told you that would come in handy someday.”

“You’re mad at me.”

“No.” Scoffing, Sonny throws a hand in the air before letting it settle back down at his hip. “You know what? Yeah. Yeah, I am. You realize you’re dating a detective, right? You realize that when I wake up in the middle of the night and you’re gone and you don’t answer my calls or texts, I’m going to start coming up with every single worst case scenario possible, right? You realize–”

“I do,” Rafael interrupts, frowning. He rubs at the bridge of his nose, willing the pills to work faster. “I do realize all that, Sonny, I’m sorry.”

Deflating, Sonny takes a few ambling steps toward him, lowering himself onto the edge of Rafael’s desk. “You’ve been here all night?”

Rafael nods in the affirmative, not quite willing to meet Sonny’s eyes. He sticks a finger through one of the holes in his shirt instead, twisting it so it grows wider, larger. It’s just the kind of fiddling his father would have hated.

“I thought it would be good to take my mind off things,” he admits, his voice low. He senses Sonny shifting, probably straining to hear him. “I wanted to keep busy. Thought it would be easier if I was already here. I should have answered your texts but I…” He trails off, narrowing his eyes at nothing in particular. “I don’t know. I’ve always just dealt with it on my own.”

He doesn’t relish telling Sonny stories about his childhood. Rafael hates the idea of anyone seeing him as a product of a broken home because that’s certainly not how he sees himself. He’s a man who’d had a shitty dad, just like so many other people in this world, that’s all.

Except that’s not all, is it? That’s the point, isn’t it? That’s why he’s here, hiding away from a city of people set on celebrating the fathers who exist in it, the good ones, the ones who make their families happy. Rafael recalls a time years and years ago when his grandmother had purchased a set of cigars for him to gift his father. They’d both been certain he wouldn’t be able to complain but they’d been proven wrong. That’s how he’d gotten that faint burn mark still present just above his right shoulder blade.

It’s a yearly reminder, Father’s Day, that his own dad had found a strange sort of pleasure in tormenting his child. That’s not normal, Rafael had grown up understanding that because his mother and his grandmother and even his friends had repeated it to him, over and over; but it’d been his normal for years. At a certain point, Rafael could no longer say he was surprised when his father lashed out, sometimes over the most minuscule of inconveniences.

“I get it,” Sonny says now, murmuring the words like he’s talking to a wounded baby animal, but Rafael shakes his head.

“No. No, I’m sorry, but you don’t. When you can point at a card and say your dad would love that one, you don’t get to say you understand.”

A combination of hurt and guilt flashes across Sonny’s features. “I shouldn’t have said that. That was insensitive, I should have known better.”

He’s missing the point. It’s not his fault. He doesn’t understand.

“You’re allowed to say it, Sonny. You are. You shouldn’t feel bad about the fact that your dad didn’t treat you the way mine treated me. I would never wish that for you, for anyone. You should be glad you can celebrate him, even if he’s not Father of the Year.” Not by any means, Rafael is tempted to add, but the corners of Sonny’s mouth flicker downward and that’s as good a sign as any to leave well enough alone. “It’s just not how I’ve lived this day. Even though he’s been gone for so long, I can’t help what it does to me when people remind me to call my dad on Father’s Day. Or when every other commercial on TV is about the best gifts to buy dad, the best restaurants to take him to, the movie marathon you and your dad are sure to love. The e-mails, the storefronts, the well-meaning people who stop by the office to talk about a case. He’s everywhere, smiling at me through the faces of strangers, and it makes my skin crawl.”

When Sonny doesn’t say anything, Rafael forces himself to look up, expecting pity but finding compassion. That shouldn’t come as a shock and honestly, it doesn’t. There’s a reason why Rafael has been able to say these things aloud at all, a reason why Sonny hadn’t barged in here fuming over Rafael’s disappearing act. Sonny may not understand what Rafael has gone through, but he sure as hell understands Rafael.

When Rafael meets his eyes, Sonny offers a small smile. “What do you need from me?”

It’s such a simple question but Rafael feels like it takes a weight off his shoulders. He could ask for anything, whether it be space or ten cups of the strongest coffee in the city or simply sitting together in silence, Sonny will give it to him. Rafael is certain of that, he’s never been more certain of anything or anyone than Sonny Carisi. He’s thought about it before, how easily Sonny could destroy him; but he’s content with believing Sonny never would.

Rising from his chair, he circles around the desk, reaching for Sonny’s hand and nodding toward the couch. “Sit with me for a bit?”

“I’ll sit with you for as long as you want,” Sonny tells him, following dutifully. He drapes an arm over Rafael’s shoulders once they’re settled, pressing a tender kiss to Rafael’s temple. “Just do me one favor, okay?”

“What’s that?” Rafael asks, his eyes already fluttering shut as he nestles against the warmth of Sonny’s body.

“Wake me up next time, even if it’s just to tell me you need to take off on your own for a little while.”

Rafael blinks then shifts in Sonny’s arms, resting a hand over Sonny’s chest as he looks up sheepishly. “I will. I’m sorry I worried you.”

“You’re just lucky you kept your phone on,” Sonny says, pecking Rafael’s lips with his own. “I was so close to putting out an APB on you before I remembered that app.”

“That could easily be used for stalking, you know,” Rafael teases, poking Sonny’s side.

Sonny yelps, batting Rafael’s hand away with a laugh. “Remember that the next time you chew me out for not offering to grab you a coffee when you see I’m nearby.”

“That was one time and I was in desperate need,” Rafael says, lifting his chin. “Anyway. I’m glad you used it. I didn’t realize how much I was actually going to need you today until you showed up at the door.”

That doesn’t come out quite the way Rafael had intended for it to sound but Sonny doesn’t seem to mind.

“You’re not alone anymore,” Sonny tells him, his tone somehow soft yet firm all at once. “Anytime you want to let me in, I’ll be here.” He wraps his arms tighter around Rafael as the tension from Rafael’s body starts to ease. “I promise I’ll always be at the door.”

[anotherdayforchaosfay]

I fell in the shower today.

I’m okay.  Got a solid grip on the grab bar and it softened the landing.  Husband is getting a shower/bathing chair for me because this isn’t the first, nor shall it be the last, time it’s happened.  As for the why...

I’ve mentioned before I have an old back injury that has flared the fuck up recently.  Been going on for months. 

I acquired this injury from sledding when I was 14.  My mother forbade me from going sledding with friends.  I was 14, the hill was fantastic and so many kids were sledding.  Why the fuck would I wanna miss out on something like that?  I was on a disc sled, hit a rock, flew a good distance, and landed on another rock less than two inches from my spine.  Wind was knocked outta me, and it took almost ten minutes for me get my legs moving.  Cell phones weren’t common then; they were huge and often had to be carried in bags.  No one thought to call for an ambulance.  One of the friends I was sledding with suggested I sleep over because I didn’t want to get in trouble.  Not even 12 hours later her dad drove me home (because I could barely walk due to pain) and told my mom to take me to the hospital.  She said no, that I deserved this, it’ll be a reminder of what disobedience costs.  That’s when I learned no matter how much I get hurt, she won’t care. 

A large portion of my back was black and purple.  Massive bruise and all kinds of ugly.  Moving hurt, breathing hurt, I couldn’t lay down or sit up.  My mom insisted I do chores because I went sledding when she said not to go, that this is a lesson I need to remember.

I fucking remember.  Every fucking day for 22 years.  Blowing on that spot causes spasms and pain so severe I can’t even breathe.  There are clothes I can’t wear because they touch that spot in such a way that I’m damn near unable to move.  When I was 16 I threw my back out carrying all my school books because two minutes isn’t enough time to get to my locker and then to class.  The specialist I saw did an exam that hurt like fuck, had me crying and my mother calling me a wimp.  He told her this is a nerve cluster that’s like a scar but rather than being visible it causes me pain.  He told her I need surgery, that getting it done while I’m younger is safer and better for me because recovering is easier when young.  She said no because I’m just being wimpy.  I was given muscle relaxants, a board to lay on, a note saying I can’t go to school for at least a week, and another note telling my teachers I need more time between classes and need to use a wheelie bag (those were forbidden back then and really expensive). 

The pain has gotten worse every year.  My mother still thinks I deserve it, that I’m just wimpy.  My father had no say because he was in another country at the time the injury happened.  Military thing called TDY.

I’m seeing my doctor on the 27th; it’s the earliest appointment I could get.  I’ll be requesting a referral to a physical therapy clinic that also has a massage therapist (the only way my insurance will cover this at all), a muscle relaxant, and a referral to a specialist to get this taken care of. 

When the pain spikes, so does my vertigo.  I have constant vertigo, frequent dizzy spells, and recently both have gotten worse.  Hence falling in the shower.  We have all furniture corners cover with baby-safe cushioning because I bump into things a lot.  While looking at apartments (we’re moving in July) I’m looking for places without stairs.  A few years ago I fell down the two steps we had in our home and gave myself a concussion.  No idea how long I was out, but stairs are not good for me.  Especially now. 

Sitting at my computer for more than half an hour hurts like hell.  My recliner is the only place I get any relief, however minor it is.  Quilting is slower because various movements make the pain shoot up.  Normally the pain is sitting at a constant 6; I’m used to it, no big deal.  It’s now sitting at an 8 and spikes to a 9.5.  I pass out at a 10, and have experienced that 10 when my IUD broke in 2010.  That’s another story for another day.

The only thing my mother taught me is that no matter how much pain I’m in, no matter the severity of my injuries, telling her won’t mean a damn thing.  My pain tolerance is insanely high, but she calls me a wimp anyway.  I fell asleep when I got my tattoos, one of which covers the majority of my left ankle and goes up to my knee.  The endorphins release had me really sleepy and I napped for the three hours of the tattoo work.  I fall asleep during most dental appointments because the pain and discomfort release endorphins and make me sleepy.  I have injured myself during seizures, been hit by three cars, suffered a concussion, tore a ligament in my wrist after a bad fall down a set of stairs (and suffered it for 5 years before proper diagnosis and surgery), and a whole hell of a lot of other injuries.  Not to mention the self-harm I inflicted on my legs (no one questions small cuts when I shaved my legs) for over a decade. 

I’m dealing with severe vertigo, extreme pain that has actually made me cry, and I’m pissed the fuck off.  It’s taken me THIS FUCKING LONG to realize my parents weren’t only neglectful of me but also abusive.  It was little and big things, and only with the help of my current counselor have I been able to face what has happened to me.  My sisters were pampered and given all the positive love and affection.  I’m the eldest and “should be setting an example”.  Constantly asked “why can’t you be more like your sisters” and punished when I got anything lower than a B.  Though the neglect they threw at me when I got a B certainly fucking qualifies. 

I don’t know how I can ever bring this up with my parents.  They will never believe they did anything wrong.  I will never get an apology.  Nothing will change other than a massive rift in the family for which I’ll be blamed.

For those who are unaware of a small detail, I rarely cry.  I was shamed for crying, for being emotional, wimpy, too sensitive, etc.  I learned how to cry silently.  Having severe allergies made my sniffling nose easy to mask.  When something makes me cry, it’s an event.  I’m getting better at crying, but when it’s pain that’s setting it off, it’s bad.  My husband is mad with worry because he’s seeing me cry from pain that I’ve been masking for years.  He hates that I hold all this in. He cries openly, he’s sensitive, sympathetic, empathetic, and has none of the toxic masculinity (he claims it’s due to being raised in a house of women).  I’ve been enjoying edibles for several weeks now to help deal with the pain, but I can’t have them daily for many reasons.  I’m allergic to nearly every pain medication, and the one I’m not allergic to (aleve) has no effect on this.  It helps with migraines, fevers, and my wrist, but not my back. 

I know my doctor will help me.  She’s an amazing doctor, she listens to me, hears me, asks the right questions and never shames me for the ones I ask.  She’ll likely insist on me seeing a specialist because this isn’t something I ought to be forced to live with for the rest of my life.  She’ll also mark the massage therapy as medically necessary, which is the only way Medicare will cover it (I’m disabled and on SSDI).

Please don’t reblog this, but you can reply.  I’m full of pain and anger and hurt right now.  JFC I’m gonna cry again.  The more sugar coating I remove from my past, the more I really look at my childhood and growing up, the more I realize how horrible things were for me.  Like many victims of childhood abuse and neglect, I’ve pushed a vast amount of it away.  Don’t want to look at it, don’t want to think about it, but 2019 was the year I began to heal.  Now the ugly part is finally coming around.  The worst part of moving in July will be losing my counselor and doctor.