#cleaned it up loud and grumpy like damn. i get it

[altfire]

woke up to a wildly messy kitchen and i've never in my life felt more kinship w my mom than i do rn

[allurilove]

Yandere Classmate x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Headcanons of stalking, obsessive behavior, unhinged man lowkey, sexual fantasies, perverted and lewd behavior, stealing, male masturbation, gender neutral reader, grumpy x sunshine,

*He has no name, and is only referred to as “your classmate” his only existence is to be obsessed with the reader, and without you, he ceases to exist. This yandere classmate is different from the other one I have wrote about. Here is the second part! This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: You wish on a shooting star for a boyfriend. Your classmate has an unhealthy obsession with you, he’s almost entranced, and he follows you around like a lost puppy. He doesn’t know what you have done to him, but he won’t let you go. No, he’ll hunt you down and make sure you’ll stay with him forever.

When you wished to be in a relationship with a man that was utterly obsessed with you— joking or not joking— the universe heard you loud and clear.

It was like he was here on earth just to be with you. Every single part of his body was screaming, clawing, and dragging his feet towards you. It was hard to get close, and near damn annoying that you were surrounded by your friends all the time.

Your classmate was entranced the moment you walked past him, and whenever you did and he heard your sweet laugh… his legs immediately made him get up from his spot to follow you.

You were just the sweetest being he has ever seen. Always nice and kind to others, even if they didn’t deserve it. He felt like he had a responsibility to protect you from assholes that would take advantage of you.

He began to follow you around. Listening in to your conversations, and he would take mental notes of what would make you laugh. He was determined to make you smile, to make you laugh harder than that fool in front of you.

He gave up on his education to pursue you. I mean he was learning… just happened to skip some of his classes to sneak into yours. You were a more interesting subject anyways. He would sit somewhat far away, and switch it up every time. He didn’t want you to notice him, not yet anyways.

Your classmate really wanted to sit next you, or maybe offer to buy you lunch. When you went to the bathroom, and left your cup on the table, there was a faint lip mark on it. He gulped, his hand slowly reaching for it. If he couldn’t kiss you soon, this was the next best thing. He pressed his lips where yours were previously, his tongue flicking the rim. He savored your saliva, and out of adrenaline he decided to keep the cup all together.

Whenever you were gone, or didn’t come to school that day, he had to visit your locker. It was after gym class, and no one was around as he leaned in to sniff at the little vents. Your scent had been brewing in there for a couple of hours, and he groaned.

He desperately tried to lap up every scent — he inhaled and licked the air— his hands palming the tent in his shorts. If only he knew your locker combination.

Your classmate pulled his shorts down, and his boxers followed suit. He finally freed himself from his confinements, and he rubbed his hand up and down his length. He masturbated at the thought of you often. He only needed an image of you, a scent, or an item of yours. Either way, his dick would be in his hands, twitching and cumming.

When he wasn’t stalking you and literally trying to learn everything about you, he took the liberty to primp himself. He wanted to look good for you after all. He would wake up early, shave and even wax his body clean of body hair, cut his nails, and do shit to his cuticles. He went to the barbershop and got a new hair cut, and made sure his face was clean and shaven. If that wasn’t your thing he would grow it all out.

He was a bit hesitant to do much with his lower body. But he sucked it up and made sure to trim down there too. He wasn’t used to shaving, and had to buy a couple of bandaids. A sanrio bandaid near his crotch.

And he realized he was deeply out of shape. Shit. When you were running on the tracks, so was he. He had to hold his breath to hide his deep and hard breathing. He soon found out he shouldn’t have done that.

You came over to him after he briefly passed out cold on the ground. He slowly opened his eyes, and you came into the view, and he saw a tiny bit up your shorts. That was enough for him to go into a frenzy.

He bought all of the fruits he could find, he read on the internet that the best way to eat someone out, and practice, was to use fruit. The peaches juices were dripping down his neck as he continued to tongue, and devour the hole. He imagined that he was on the ground and you were sitting on his face, his arms would lock you down onto him, making you put your full weight on him. Suffocate him for all he cares, he just wanted to hear you say his name. Or at least acknowledge that he exists.

He isn’t popular like you are, but he has his own group of friends. And by friends, he means your siblings. The only natural way to get close to you, was through your family after all. Plus, if you two were to get married, he already had an in with the family.

It also meant he could see your room. He snuck away for a minute to examine where you slept. He slowly knelt down, his hips aligned with corner of the mattress, and he digs his face into your sheets. His hands gripped the soft plush of your blanket, his cock rubbing against the corner. He whined as wanted more, he just wanted to bury himself deep inside you, and feel your warmth around him. He bets that it would feel like heaven.

Your classmate quickly retracted as he felt a tiny wet spot growing on his pants, his face flushed as he sat back down onto his ass. When he does so, his hands land on a piece of fabric. Out of instinct his hands curl around it and he picked it up, he inspected it and his eyes widens. Your underwear. In his hand.

His hand was tightly gripped around his mouth and the other was around his cock. His back was arched and he locked himself away in your bathroom. He loved the feeling of your underwear rubbing on his tip, and his hips snapped against his hand. He closed his eyes and he imagined you were giving him a handjob instead. Fuck, he just needed to smell you instead. He smelled your underwear, as he climaxed, his cum dribbling on the floor.

When you applied for college, he did too. He found out every single one you wanted to go to from your siblings. He got waitlisted. You got accepted. It wasn’t even a straight up rejection, it wasn’t a yes, and it was just a damn maybe.

He winced, his eyes almost closing as he smiled for the picture. It turned out alright and he paid the fee. A couple of months later, he got his passport in the mail. He booked his flight, and he lied right to your face. He convinced you to get an apartment with him instead of going to a dorm, and he followed you around campus, even though he doesnt have a single class there.

Allure: This is a bit of a different format from how I usually write, and idk how to feel about it lol! Here’s the c.ai link: https://share.character.ai/Wv9R/ondwnvhr

[puckinghischier]

Nico looking stressed, grumpy and pissed off lately. He would def take out all that on reader if they gave him permission to do so. God he would become a whole different person in bed 😵‍💫🫠

“just say the word, and i promise it all stops. it all starts and ends with you,” he’d check just one more time you’re sure, almost feeling guilty for what he’s about to do.

“swear on my life, neeks. give me everything you’ve got. please,” you whine and squirm, his outburst on the ice earlier planting a seed in your brain only he can grow.

his eyes darken, your pleas all he needs to spur him on, slamming into you so hard you see stars, gripping your hips with a bruising pressure.

he gives you no warnings, no recovery, just slamming into you over and over again, every ounce of anger he felt on the ice being transferred to your body.

your body jolts with each thrust, thankful the two of you won the argument for a plush headboard in this exact moment. his grunts are animalistic and guttural, never having heard sounds like this from him before. they make your body melt into his even more, not having enough brain power to think about the implications of why this is all so hot for you.

“swear, just can’t get them to do anything right. s’like trying to teach monkeys how to play hockey,” he grunts, using the physical outlet to purge the mental frustrations as well. “s’like i’m the only one on that ice that gives a shit about anything. they won’t shoot, won’t block, aren’t there for passes. a bunch of idiotic fucks.”

you would respond, but the moment you open your mouth, his fingers immediately fill the space. you swirl your tongue around the digits, sucking lightly. the action earns a particularly deep groan, throwing his head back like it’s the most erotic thing he’s ever experienced.

“don’t wanna hear anything other than my name from these pretty little lips, got it?” his eyes bore down onto yours, waiting for your small nod of agreement. “if i can’t get the performance from the guys i want, you’re gonna give me the performance i want in here.”

his command wasn’t even that harsh or demanding, but you’ll be damned if it didn’t make your eyes nearly roll back into your head. when he slips his fingers from your mouth his names becomes the only word in your vocabulary. repeated over and over and over again, never stopping.

you can feel his grip on your hips tighten, making you wonder how many purple splotches you’ll be able to count tomorrow morning. his thrusts get more aggressive as your whines of his name get louder and louder, teetering on the edge of pathetic, but you don’t care.

he thrusts into you the harshest and deepest he has yet, and it causes your body to erupt into the most intense bliss you’ve ever felt, feeling nico’s own body still and his deep voice cry out a loud “FUCK!”

you convulse and shake beneath him, wondering when the waves of pleasure are gonna stop. nico’s still hovered above you, blinking his eyes in a daze.

he pulls his softening dick out of you, a whimper escaping your still shaking body. the waves of pleasure are still subsiding when he climbs off the bed, returning a few seconds later with a warm washcloth and a fresh pair of boxers on.

when he goes to clean you up, you whine and whimper at how sensitive you are, nico’s soft ‘shhhs’ not doing much to calm you.

he crawls into bed beside of you, lifting the bed sheet to cover your bare body, pulling you against him.

“y’alright, sweet girl?” nico whispers as he nudges his nose into your neck, back to his sweet and attentive self. you hum back a “mhmmm,” nestling into his warm body.

you can feel him smirk into your skin, his rumbling voice causing goosebumps to rise. “didn’t realize y’liked when i’m so rough. maybe we should explore this more often.”

the thought brings another whine from your throat, wanting to roll over away from him, but you’re trapped in his arms, any kind of movement impossible.

“god, let a girl recover a bit, yeah? think my vagina is gonna fall off if you put those images in my head right now.”

nico erupts in full on belly laughter, amused at this new discovery. “well not right now, no. just…gonna keep it in mind anytime i try to tell myself not to get too worked up during a game. might…slip and let a hit or two through if i know this is what i have waiting on me when i get home.”

and when he see’s the hand sized bruises on your hips the next day, rushing out apologies and peppering kisses over the purple skin, you assure him you’re fine, seeing the small glint in his eyes at the physical reminder of last night, you know that his penalty minutes are about to sky rocket.

[ottosinventory]

Sweet Valentine.

(Platonic!Reader x Huskerdust)

(Implied Reader x Alastor)

Male reader

(Again not my art idk who's sorry but its so good😭💗)

Warnings: None I think

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Stupid fucking, son of a-"

Husker was sitting by the bar and doing something that didn't look like drink mixing.

That was because it indeed wasn't he was trying to make a valentine card but that damn glue just didn't listen to him. He has a lot of glue in his fur now. And you noticed that.

"Heyyyy Husk, how's it... how's it going?" You asked a bit taken aback by what you were seeing...or the lack of understanding of it.

"Ahhh its nothing" He said back in a very grumpy tone.

You slid a bit closer to what he was doing.

You saw a heart cut out (badly) from a pink colored paper and some glitter on the side.

You stared at it for some time and than it clicked. Husk was making a valentine card for someone. The thought melted you heart.

"Husker that is so sweet who is it for?" You asked, eyes sparkling with interest.

"None of your beeswax kid." He answered, still grumpy.

You didn't get offended, this was nothing new to you, Husker was just like that.

However you could clearly see that he was struggling.

"Well, all right but if you need help you know where to find me." You answered with a smile as you left the bar to go to your room.

You knew it was for Angel. But you still wanted to ask to get Husker to admit out loud that he liked him.

You were right, of course, Husk needed help. But he didn't want to go to you. He felt like that would be admitting defeat and since he didn't want to ask anyone else either he turned to the next best thing: romance movies.

And thats how now you were standing in the kitchen with a blown up cake (somehow) a broken table in the middle burnt table cloth on top, and plates and roses shattered on the floor.

"Sooo, Husk, dear, what the hell did you do?" You asked looking at him.

"Ahhh god damn it I just wanted to make a romantic dinner for Angel but it all went to shit." Husk was looking at the floor in defeat.

You chuckled at that.

"Husk you should have just come to me, I've know Angel for a long time now and he is one of my best friends. Listen, Angel does not give a fuck about fancy dinners or roses and shit. The only thing you have to do is be yourself, as cliche as it sounds, just tell him you like him and make him a drink at the bar that would be already enough for him knowing he can spend the evening talking to you."

Husk looked at you in disbelief, but he was relieved. Just sitting by the bar and chatting over a drink was more favorable for him as well.

And so on Valentines day you went down to the bar early in the morning to visit Husk and attempt to sooth his nerves.

That was going to be harder than you thought. Husk was cleaning glasses, bottles, anything he could get his hands on in the bar out of nervousness.

"Heeeyyyy, Husk...you good?" You attempted.

"No, (Y/N) I am in fact NOT good how the heck am I supposed to tell him that I like him."

"You just said it...of course that was in third person lets try in second person next-"

"NO (Y/N) you don't understand I cant do this I'll just give him a drink like usual and we'll talk normally-"

You interrupted Husker by grabbing his ear.

"Oww mother fuck-man what are you doing?"

"Listen to me Husker, this is the day of love and you are in love with Angel there is nothing else to say you have to confess, it will make him so happy."

"How do you know that? What if he just laughs in my face and tells me get my old brain out of the gutter."

You stared at him in disbelief. Of course you knew that Angel likes Husk, you were the first person he told it too. But you cant tell Husk that.

"Husker, do you really think Angel would ever say that?"

"...no"

"Exactly because he is the sweetest guy and you know that, even if he rejects you, people will always be happy if they hear that someone loves them, you will make him happy, and lets face it Angel needs it."

Husk looked at the bottle in his hand and put it down.

"I'll...try my best." He sighed at last.

At that you jumped behind the counter and hugged him.

"Ok, good luck" with those last words you jumped back out and walked away to your hiding place...where you found every other resident except Angel was already excitedly waiting for whats going to happen.

"Erhmm...hey guys whatcha doing here?" You asked them confused.

"Shhh...Angel is coming" shushed you Charlie with an excited smile.

"Ahhh...good morning Husk, have you noticed that the hotel seems kind of empty?" Asked Angel.

"I have not seen anyone except you this morning." Husk was still cleaning glasses, probably for the 3rd time this morning but it helped with his nerves.

"Interesting I guess the couples are celebrating valentines day but I don't know about the others."

You guys just sat behind the corner where you were just out of view and tryed to listen to their conversation.

"Can you hear anything?" Asked you Charlie.

"Yes, someone just said: 'can you hear anything'"

"Ow come on, Alastor cant one of your shadows go closer or something?" Asked the radio demon Veggie.

"My dear it is 9 o'clock in the morning there is no shadow where mine could hide, I'm afraid they would notice me."

You were still busy listening but couldn't hear anything due to the voices behind you.

"Guys, cut it out I'm trying to listen."

"Wow he isssss grumpy thissss morning" commented quietly Pentious.

"No, this is just very important for my dear, he left the bed without even saying good morning to me." Alastor said somewhat grumpy.

To this you turned your head.

"Awww honey I didn't know that meant so much to you I'll make up for it I promise." You answered quickly while you turned back around. Only to be met with Angles chest.

"What the heck are you nosy nellies doing here?" Asked Angel looking at all of you.

"Well...ermm." You looked at Husk for help who showed you a thumbs up. This was all you needed as you jumped to hug Angel.

"We want to congratulate you omg you guys are such a cute couple" you almost yelled excitedly.

Angel chuckled and hugged you back.

"Yeah I guess we are." He answered as he put you down and took hold of Husk's hand.

And with that, the Hazbin Hotel got richer with another couple.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Huskerdust is everything, nothing else matters.💗🥹

Hope you guys liked the story🥰

[aimbutmiss]

Shanks woke up way too early that day, having barely slept from excitement. He was practically bouncing on his bed as he waited for his cabinmate to wake up, but Buggy was pretty much out cold. His patience was running thin as he watched his friend breath in and out in his state of deep sleep. What did Buggy get him as a gift, he wondered. He did disappear for a bit at the last island they stopped by... Just thinking about it made him giddy.

Buggy finally stirred out of sleep, yawning as he stretched his arms. Shanks immediately jumped on him, not able to control his excitement.

"Good morning, Bugs!"

Buggy rubbed his eyes groggily. "You're too loud so damn early..."

"It's not early at all! And sorry, heh." Shanks finally lowered his voice. He waited for his friend to say something, but he just pushed him away and got up.

"You stink." was all Buggy said as he made his way to the bathroom.

So, no immediate birthday wishes. That was fine. Buggy was never a morning person, and he was still sleepy and grumpy. He'd come to after washing his face.

Except, he didn't. No one else did either. It was like any regular day on the ship, and no one wished him a happy birthday.

Shanks went on his day like usual, doing his chores except with a big frown. He tried peppering in hints about the special occasion in his conversations, but no one seemed to pick up on it. As the day went on, his sadness grew and grew. Did no one care about him enough to remember his birthday? He was turning 14, yet all the excitement of it died in him. Roger cared every year to throw parties for him and Buggy, why would he suddenly forget? It didn't make any sense. And even if no one remembered, he always believed Buggy would. But here he was, going about his day like usual and ignoring him.

Shanks had never felt so unwanted and unloved before.

Towards the evening, Rayleigh came into the cellar as Shanks was cleaning up. He made a move to leave but Rayleigh halted him with a touch.

"You can't leave yet. I have something to tell you."

Shanks' eyes grew bigger and he bit his lips in excitement. This was it! Of course, Rayleigh would remember. The man loved to act tough but he was a big softie on the inside.

"You missed a spot. Mop it better."

...

"Okay..."

Shanks felt tears sting in his eyes as he turned around to mop the floor. The sound of Rayleigh's steps as he went up the stairs blurred in the background. Maybe he had always been a stupid chore boy to them. No one cared. And maybe, Buggy really meant it when he said he was a bother... He sniffled as the wet mop dragged on the wooden surface.

He wanted to run away, but he had no where to go to in the middle of the ocean. God, he hated this. He really didn't want to pity himself, but the tears weren't stopping. He heard footsteps and turned around to see Buggy at the entrance.

"Oi, idiot-" He stopped when he saw Shanks' teary face. "What's wrong?"

Shanks angrily wiped away his tears and turned away to hide his face. "It's nothing. Just leave me alone."

"Don't give me that, you asshole!" Buggy stomped over angrily and... held his face? He gently wiped away the tears with a swipe of his thumb.

"What are you doing?" Shanks asked between sniffles.

"Giving you time to cool off, so you don't embarrass yourself when we go up."

Shanks' brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Everyone's waiting for you, so just calm down and breathe. You wouldn't want them to know you were crying, right?"

Shanks took a second to do as his better half said, still not quite understanding but feeling better with Buggy by his side. Once his face was less red and the teartracks were nowhere to be seen, Buggy held his hand and led him up the stairs. A big commotion happened when they emerged from the door.

"SURPRISEEEE!!!"

Shanks looked around in confusion, the sound of confetti popping startling him. There was a big, red cake in the middle of the deck with everyone huddled around it. The huge banner hung between the polls read "Happy Birthday Shanks!"

Roger made his way over to Shanks and gave him a big, squeezing hug. "My boy's a man now! Can't believe you've grown this much. 14, huh? How time flies."

He pulled away with a smile but it dropped immediately once he realised the boy in his arms was crying. "What's wrong, boy?!"

Rayleigh watched the panicked captain with a pained expression, sighing with crossed arms. "I don't think the surprise party was a clever idea like you thought, Captain."

After the misunderstanding was cleared, the party commenced in full speed. Music was playing, gifts were being exchanged, Shanks even got to blow the candles and make a wish. He wished for the same thing he did every year, looking over at Buggy and closing his eyes before blowing out the flame.

Later down the evening, Buggy approached Shanks, who was shoving cake in his mouth like his life depended on it.

"I can't believe you cried again after I tried so hard to not embarrass you."

Shanks turned to Buggy with a smile and frosting covering his face. "I don't care about that! I was just so relieved... I really thought you had forgotten."

Buggy shook his head. "As if I ever could, you dumbass."

He pushed a small, red box into his hands. Shanks eagerly opened it to find a small friendship bracelet, matching the one his friend was wearing. He immediately put it on with a smile. "Thank you, Buggy!"

Buggy rubbed his nape as red spread across his cheeks. "It's nothing big, but a lot of my budget went into the other thing so I didn't have many options..."

"Other thing?"

Buggy motioned to the box again, which was empty except for a piece of paper. Shanks turned to him in confusion.

"It's my Vivre Card."

Shanks stared at him in pure surprise, his eyes widened like saucers. "Seriously?!"

"Yes, seriously." Buggy smiled shyly. "I still can't believe you genuinely thought I forgot... I'll never leave you alone, especially not on your birthday. And if I do, you can always find me with this."

Shanks got teary eyed once again, staring at his friend with vulnerable eyes. "Really, never? You promise?"

"Oh my God, don't you dare cry again!" Buggy yelled, but didn't waste one more second to reply. "I promise."

It had been 25 years since then. Now Shanks, age 39, sat alone in a corner of his ship, somehow having managed to ran away from the party his crew threw for him. He stared at the Vivre Card on his palm, motioning somewhere far into the horizon, wondering where his friend was and how he was doing.

Never, huh...

Oh, how he wished Buggy had kept his promise, and he didn't lack the guts to follow him.

Maybe next year, he thought to himself, like he did year after year.

[blues824]

Can I please request izuru Kamukura with a female Kalim Al-Asim reader.

🌞Her being a happy ball of sunshine that loves her s/o and likes to spoil him with gifts and loves hugging him and him finding her amusing but is protective of her.

🖤Izuru finding it amusing how different they are from each other he gets bored easily and doesn't like people and he doesn't feel emotions but his s/o loves people gets doesn't get bored easily and always show emotions.

🌞Him reacting to her food always needs to be checked for poison and her needing to be careful for kidnappers but now she has izuru and he can also protect her.

🖤Her inteduseing him to her family and realising that her inter family is like her and they are very accepting of him her mother shipping them so hard that she asks when they will marry.

🌞Her meeting him in school and bringing him food from her home country and feeding him and him just going with the flow.

🖤How would classmates react to this pair the ball of sunshine whith her dead serious goth bf .

Does this mean that I am going to open requests for Danganronpa when I finish with my current requests? Maybe. I’m just going through the anime and the game playthroughs.

Izuru Kamukura

He thought you deserved the title of The Ultimate Hope, if we were talking about it quite literally. You were painfully optimistic, as well as very naive, and he felt an urge to protect your rays of pure sunshine. He just watched as you put a charm bracelet upon his wrist, with little charms of yours and his initials with a bunch of little hearts. Your heart was filled with hope… a dangerous thing within Hope’s Peak Academy.

You were a very spontaneous person as well. He couldn’t predict what you would do next, be it present him with something or give him a hug, a kiss, hold a spoon of a food your personal chef cooked for you to his lips, etc. You’ve even once shoved crackers into his mouth because you were a bit too excited about sharing a meal with each other.

If we’re being honest, he doesn’t even trust the staff members your family hired for you. He will gladly become your taste-tester as well as your bodyguard because of his distrust in those surrounding you. You were a person of great influence and of great interest because of your family’s wealth that you were set to inherit. You were the one person who made him feel joy, so he would be damned before he let anything happen to you.

Speaking of your family, when you introduced him to them, he wasn’t too surprised that you had so many siblings. The only thing that did surprise him was the amount of times your siblings and even your mother asked about the wedding. You were flustered as well, but what Izuru did in response was the cherry on top; he said that he would ask you to marry him some time after you graduated, and your family members seemed satisfied with that answer. You couldn’t believe what he just said, but you had to admit that you were excited for it.

Whenever you both had lunch together, you would feed each other a bit of your meals. He just went with it, and it became routine. He’s the type of person to take a napkin and clean up the side of your face when you make a mess, calling you childish (affectionately) and telling you to eat over the container in case some of it spills.

All of your classmates are so shocked when he walks into the classroom with you on his back, and you are cheering out loud with him looking like a grumpy cat who got woken up. However, once he puts you down, you press a big kiss on his cheek before going off to your usual group of friends while he lingered close by, remaining vigilant.

[theladyofshalott1989]

"In Which There's a Spooky Surprise": A Sebastian Sallow x MC 🎃 All Hallow's Eve One-Shot

Summary: Married!Sebastian Sallow is in for a spooky surprise at Sirona's yearly All Hallow's Eve masquerade.

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Male MC (Damien Evans)

Word Count: 1,900

SFW

Note: You can also read this one-shot on AO3! If you enjoy it, please feel free to give it a kudo, a comment, or whatever floats your boat! (Please and thank you.) [ AO3 Link ]

Sebastian adjusted the mask on his face as he glanced around The Three Broomsticks, searching for his dashing husband. In theory, he should be able to spot Damien easily. But in practice, it didn’t quite pan out.

Firstly, he couldn’t very much wear his glasses over his mask, so the world was a bit blurrier than usual. Then, on top of that, Sebastian and Damien had agreed to not divulge their costumes to each other before meeting at Sirona’s All Hallow’s Eve masquerade event. 

All Hallow’s Eve, which also happened to be Sebastian and Anne’s birthday, was still a handful of days away, but Sebastian always enjoyed the holiday. Mostly because Damien loved to play dress up, which usually led to another—more sensual—experience. Obviously, that wasn’t likely to occur at Sirona’s esteemed establishment, but perhaps later, when they returned home. Oh yes, that would be positively glorious. Sebastian would trust the events of the night, wherever they may lead. 

At the time they’d decided to keep their costumes a secret, Sebastian had found the idea enticing. But past-Sebastian hadn’t known that he would have two errant potions explode in his face this afternoon. The clean-up had been exasperating, to put it kindly, and the subsequent scolding he’d given to his students for being so careless with their ingredients had set him in a sour mood. 

So, here he was, dressed as a “vampire.” Sebastian had thrown something together with very little thought: black trousers, a black shirt, black, leather gloves, and—yes, you guessed it!—a long black coat and boots. He didn’t bother with fangs. He'd debated adding a dab of strawberry jam just below his bottom lip, but he knew it wouldn’t be there long, especially if he ever found Damien. His husband simply adored everything sweet; it was a wonder he’d ended up married to Sebastian, as grumpy and irascible as he could be. But, to be fair, Damien often brought out Sebastian’s agreeable side. Not that Sebastian would ever admit that out loud. 

And then, of course, there was this damned mask, which was currently pinching his nose. He adjusted it again with a sigh.

“Hm,” a woman in a gaudy purple dress with long trailing coattails said as she appeared before Sebastian. Her mask was designed in the shape of a giant orange bow tie. 

Sebastian chuckled quietly to himself. It was clearly Sirona. Only Sirona would dare to don Peeves's garish attire. And, since she was the host of this party, she must be greeting everyone upon their arrival.

“Let me guess,” she continued, inspecting him up and down. “Death! No, no, wait! A crow.”

Sebastian released a hearty chuckle. “Not even close. I’m—”

Mirabel, her long red hair a conspicuous giveaway, swooped in, cutting Sirona off with a recitation delivered in a shockingly accurate Transylvanian accent: “Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!"

Sebastian’s eyebrows shot up. “Mirabel, you know Dracula?” 

"I re-read it every year!" she exclaimed, beaming under her green mask adorned with what seemed to be actual vines. She must be a Shakespearean character. Perhaps Queen Titania? Or wait... no, Puck seemed more her style.

He gave it a try. "Lord, what fools these mortals be!"

Mirabel clapped deliriously. "Oh, well done! Well done, Sebastian!"

Sirona started tapping her foot on the floor. "I’m waiting."

Sebastian rubbed his chin in mock contemplation. He wracked his brain for one of Peeves’s more well-known phrases, settling on, "Naughty, naughty, you’ll get caught-y."

Sirona quirked a smile, patted Sebastian on the back, and before departing—her arm looped through Mirabel’s—whispered in his ear, "Damien's upstairs, haunting the corridors."

Damien was a ghost then, Sebastian mused to himself. That costume should be easy enough to find. 

It turned out Sebastian was sorely mistaken. He downed the final dregs of his Butterbeer. Damien was still nowhere to be found. Damien wasn’t avoiding him, was he? They hadn’t had an argument lately… Had Sebastian forgotten something? No, their anniversary was last month. He’d given Damien a beautiful hardback edition of his favorite novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray. So, if Damien wasn’t cross with him, where was he? 

Sebastian deftly maneuvered past a few other partygoers, weaving back and forth through the buzzing crowd. He couldn't recall ever seeing the inn this packed, but he supposed it was good for business. Sebastian had already indulged in three Butterbeers within the past half hour, and he was now debating when—if at all—it would be acceptable to have another without appearing overly eager.

As Sebastian made his way up the stairs, his mind wandered, until something caught his attention: a shadow, barely visible, drifting past the edge of his vision. He froze, eyes narrowing as he focused on a figure up ahead wrapped in what appeared to be a long, flowing white sheet, gliding soundlessly down the hallway and into a room. A chill crept up his spine, but curiosity overpowered caution. Without thinking, Sebastian hurried forward.

The hallway seemed to stretch unnaturally as he approached, the friendly chatter from the crowded stairwell and the room below replaced by a suffocating silence that pressed against his ears. He slipped into the room after the mysterious figure, but found it... empty. Completely and unnervingly empty. Had he imagined the haunting apparition? The stillness of the room was stifling, as if the very air itself was holding its breath.

Before Sebastian could fully process the strangeness of it all, the door behind him slammed shut with a deafening thud. The sound echoed through the hollow room. Sebastian’s heart lurched into his throat. He spun around, but the door remained still, shadowed and menacing, as if it were mocking him. His unease deepened, crawling up his skin like long, spindly spider legs. He shuddered. 

With a shaky breath, Sebastian approached the door, hand trembling as it hovered over the handle. He twisted the knob, then pushed. The door creaked open easily. Too easily. Was he expecting it to be locked, trapping him here? He chuckled quietly to himself. Of course not! The door must have slammed shut due to a breeze from the window. He glanced back over his shoulder to confirm his theory. 

The solitary window in the room stared back at him. It was closed. There was no breeze. There was no reason for the door to have shut in such a forceful manner. There was no reason for the door to have shut at all. How peculiar. A cold sweat beaded on Sebastian's forehead, and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t shrug off the tension growing in his shoulders.

After one last long glimpse, Sebastian exited the room, swallowing his unease. Damien wasn’t here, and lingering any longer seemed... unwise.

But as he stepped into the hallway and back down the stairs, something seemed terribly wrong. The once bustling stairwell, crammed with people, had become a yawning void. Not a single soul remained. Where did everyone go? 

“Hello?” he called out, his voice cracking. No answer came. Only a vast, unsettling silence.

His steps grew quicker, but the sound of his footsteps seemed too loud, too isolated in the emptiness. He descended the last few steps, his heart pounding louder with each tread, until he reached the bottom. 

And then: a chorus of voices. Too loud, too synchronized, as if they’d been waiting for him all along.

"SURPRISE!"

Sebastian stumbled backward as someone cast Lumos and the room flickered to life, revealing dozens of unmasked familiar faces gathered before him. Damien stood at the forefront, a white sheet draped over his shoulder, a mischievous grin on his face as he held up a massive birthday cake—chocolate, of course—adorned with candles, also now lit.

"Happy birthday, Bash!" Damien exclaimed, signaling to the assembled guests with a nod of his head, his hands currently occupied. "Did we surprise you?”

Sebastian nearly collapsed from relief. “It’s not my birthday until next week,” he stammered back, clutching his chest. 

“The better to surprise you with, my dear." Damien leaped forward and pecked Sebastian gently on the lips, somehow managing to not drop the cake or set Sebastian on fire in the process. Placing the cake on a table, he allowed Sebastian to snuff out the candles, then conjured a serving knife. “Who wants a slice?” he asked amid the crowd breaking out into scattered conversations. 

Sebastian took three deep breaths in succession. 

Unsurprisingly, Damien noticed Sebastian’s sorry attempt at a recovery. “Alright, love?” he asked, brow furrowed. 

“Alright now,” Sebastian replied, waving off Damien’s concern. It wouldn't do to spoil Damien's romantic gesture. 

Damien’s gaze lingered on Sebastian for a moment, scrutinizing his face. Sebastian must have schooled his expression well enough—the mask, which he was still wearing, may have helped a little—to convince Damien he was telling the truth, for only a few seconds passed before Damien nodded, then resumed cutting the cake.

Sebastian glanced around the busy room to take in the throng of people. The only loved ones missing appeared to be Anne and Ominis. Sebastian presumed they were at home with Leigh and Albert. The other week, Ominis had confided in him that Al, barely a year old now, was having a rough streak of sleepless nights. If Anne and Ominis needed to stay home to get some rest, so be it. Sebastian didn’t blame them. They could always have a smaller, more intimate birthday celebration later. 

Once everyone had a slice of cake—Damien cutting the largest slice for Sebastian, but stealing a bite or two when he thought Sebastian wasn’t looking—Sebastian finally mustered the strength to smile. His shoulders relaxed.

Damien met his gaze, his mouth full of cake. 

“Thank you,” Sebastian said.

Damien swallowed. “Of course,” he replied. “Anything for my brilliant husband.”

“Maybe not so brilliant.” He let out a nervous laugh. “Did you know, I nearly sent myself on a wild goose chase?”

“Oh?”

“I thought I saw someone enter a room upstairs, but it was just my imagination.”

“No, that was me," Damien said through a chuckle, rubbing at his stubbled chin. 

“What?” Sebastian shoved him lightly. “Be serious, D. It was terrifying.” Damien had never been much for stealth; he lit up a room far too effortlessly.

“Terrifying? Little old me?” Damien's eyes sparkled; he looked far too pleased with himself. It was both delightful and infuriating. He continued: “I had to cause a diversion so everyone could hide!” 

Sebastian blinked, taken aback. “How did you ever manage?” 

“I Disillusioned myself, of course,” Damien said, smirking devilishly. “Had to, really. I’m rather conspicuous, you see.” He grabbed his belly and shook it, releasing a hearty laugh. “Especially lately.” 

Sebastian grinned. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. And good thing you learned that spell from me.” He mussed Damien’s hair in an affectionate manner. “You’re welcome.”

“You old softie,” Damien teased, his cheeks turning a rosy shade of pink. He grabbed Sebastian’s hand and planted a soft kiss on the back of it. “Thank you, my love.” 

Sebastian pulled Damien in for a real kiss, not this hand-kissing nonsense. “I positively adore you, my own personal ghost-husband,” he murmured against Damien’s lips.

“Love you too, my…” he trailed off, inspecting Sebastian with narrowed eyes, “vampire?” he finished, one eyebrow raised. 

“I knew you’d get it.” Sebastian smiled, leaned forward, and gently nipped Damien’s neck. “You’re mine now. Eternally.”

Damien burst into an infectious peal of laughter. “I’m not so sure the mechanics of that works with ghosts, but I catch your drift.” He flicked Sebastian’s nose. “Eternity sounds perfect.”

[ AO3 Link ]

[ Read the whole series ]

Happy Halloween!

[sandy-the-glader]

maybe a george x grumpy! reader who never really smiles or shows emotion and George kinds makes it his secret mission to do that

Come on I see that smile!

Character: George Karim x Fem!Reader

Type: fluff

Length: 1.7K Words

Summary: Ever since you got to Portland row all it has been is neutral faces, anger and frowns. But George seems to be curious about what your smile looks like… for research purposes of course!

Trope: Grumpy x Sunshine (sorta)

A/n: Sorry if this is bad I've been trying to get back into writing btw maybe a tad bit of ooc George? Anyways this is a mix of second and first-person. Lmao lastly the format and like the 4 and 1 idea came from this fic so go check it out!

4 tries and 1 unintentional victory

Baked goods

Large raindrops pattered against the kitchen window of 35 Portland Row, creating a relaxing rhythm. I sprawled out articles and other various newspapers across the table. There wasn't much information on this house, no visitors had been reported before this caller. No murder cases from that house or interesting behaviors. I jotted down as many notes as I could on a surprisingly clean part of the thinking cloth.

A loud knock echoed through the house. I was too sucked into finding information and suspicious parts about this house to answer the door. Thankfully, I heard someone (most likely George) quickly dash to the door and handled with whatever it was. I assumed it was Arif since it was a quick interaction and the scent was so strong I could already smell it. Damn it smelled good.

George's quick footsteps dashed down to the kitchen, quickly landing the box on an available part of the table. I quickly drew my eyes back to the pages scanning for something remotely helpful. The worst case was going in cold.

"How's the case going?" George came to look at the papers and my progress. His fingers traced my handwriting.

"Not good. There is not a single thing tied to this house. And she said I have to be there in a week." I said with a dry expression. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw George rock back and forth on his heels before he spoke again.

"Well um, I got you extra of your favorite this week." I looked up at him. "If you need to take a break they are there." He offered.

"Thank you I appreciate that." George looked somewhat upset with my reaction. Why? I'm not exactly sure

"Yeah.." He grabbed a chocolate donut from the box and sighed on the way out of the room. I hope he’s okay.

Did I do something wrong?

"Is that a donut??" I heard Lucy call out from the stairs. "I didn't even know we had those!" maybe a break wouldn’t hurt…

2. Stress Cleaning

Sure this was more for George than it was for you but he hoped to kill 2 birds with one stone. He had spent the whole evening cleaning the house. Kitchen, library you name it. He left the bedrooms for last.

He knocked softly on your door and waited for a reply before going up the stairs. There wasn't much to clean in your's and Lucy's shared area besides maybe the windows and a few pieces of clothing needed to be picked up off the ground.

You were reading a book on your bed instead of trying to find more information on that house. You needed a break and your mind was just tired from searching article upon article. You had 3 more days and thought to hell with it I'll just do my best.

"What's up, George?" You peered over your book and at the boy. "Oh." From seeing his apron and blue gloves you already knew he meant cleaning. "You know you don't always have to clean up after us." He shook his head.

"You know cleaning is one of my favorite things right?" He cleaned every single day. Not even kidding. You can't remember the last time you've seen the house jaw-droppingly dirty. Because it never has been. For the many months you’ve been here George has done a fantastic job with keeping the house organized.

"That is true. I do feel bad sometimes." You hummed. "Well thank you." George quirked a small smile but you just nodded in acknowledgment.

Well, it was worth a try. He sighed quietly.

3. Favorite food

He knew as soon as you stepped through the door and slammed it shut, he had made a good decision. Another thing on George's list of "Y/n's smiles" was dinner. Sure food didn't work as well last time this was different.

He heard you curse at something and then throw your rapier into its spot by the door. You took in a deep breath through your nose trying to contain your anger from the trip and not make a lot of noise considering the time but you smelt something. Something so heavenly that's all you needed right now. Food.

You quickly went down the stairs and saw George in his apron Moving around the kitchen.

"Smells great Georgie. It's 3 am you didn't have to." She frowned feeling a bit bad for keeping him up.

"It's really no problem at all." He loved cooking so really it was just fun. "Looks like you had a fun night." She rolled her eyes and groaned. He leaned against a cabinet and glanced at you up and down. Your hair was very messy, traces of ectoplasm was all over your shoes and the bottom of your pants, and you were just really wanting food and a shower.

"Sarcasm. Not now I beg of you. But really the food smells fantastic." A sneaky smile formed on George's lips, not yours though you were far too tired to even think about it.

"Alright. Food's ready anyway." He brought two servings of the food over to the table placing one in front of you and the other across from you. "Do you want to talk about it?" He offered sitting down in front of his food.

"It was awful! The source was in a completely different part of the house than she thought and it was just disastrous!" You complained. He sat there and listened to your troubles like you always did with him.

You finally had a bite of the food and you felt at ease.

“George Casper Karim why can you cook so well?” He smiled downward. You didn’t smile you just had this tired yet calm look on your face.

“I have more talent than just touch.” He joked. She was right though the food did taste amazing.

“Yes you do.” George wasn’t entirely mad at the fact you didn’t smile but he did enjoy the compliment.

4. A New Sweater

George scanned the shelves of your favorite store looking for something you would like. There were plenty of things your style but what caught his eye was a sweater.

Your closet was full of them. Lucy too and so a sweater could be another candidate for his "Y/n's smiles" list.

It wasn’t too thick nor too light because he knew you were sorta picky when it comes to sweaters. And a bonus was it was one of your favorite colours.

He held it in his hands but, he double and even triple-checked the store for something you might like better. But he did not and he went and brought it up to the counter to pay.

The cashier was nice but she had mistaken George as your boyfriend which made him blush furiously and confirm the two of you were just close friends. The cashier didn’t buy it. She gave him a small disbelieving look and he tried to ignore it.

He was impressed by how well she wrapped up the sweater and put it in a really nice bag.

When he came back the house was insanely quiet, mainly because Lockwood was out of the house and Lucy was training in the basement. You had decided to have a lazy day you were mainly just in your bed or in front of your desk.

But he noticed you were making tea in the kitchen so he quietly ran upstairs to put your gift on your bed. And then he snuck back down to his room to wait for your return.

You held a cup in your hand and carefully walked upstairs. You were confused when finding a gift on your bed mainly because no one really gave you gifts out of the blue. A small gasp escaped your lips when you reached into the bag and pulled out a sweater. You held the sweater close. It was the right size it was quite a shocker

You didn't think Lucy even knew your size.

"Surprise." George came back up the stairs. You went and hugged him. He was slightly taken aback by the gesture. He wasn't exactly a hugger but he wrapped his arm around you and squeezed gently.

"Thank you, George. You do so much for me." Again he wasn't exactly angry that it had failed because he's never had a hug that felt this relaxing. He was feeling loved. "Anything." He said simply. You pulled back and ruffled his hair.

"You're too good for me."

George returned to his room and took a pen and struck off another idea on a sticky note above his desk. But he did put a small heart next to it.

5. Quality Time.

"Wanna go the archives with me? Lucy and Lockwood already said no but they were caught up in their own thing." George huffed. You sat up immediately and shoved a bookmark into your book. You cracked a half smile.

"I would love to." You sprung up and grabbed your bag and shoes. "They never want to go with me either." Still, a small smile plastered on your face.

George was shocked in the 3 months he knew you that's all it took? Just going to the archives? He would have groaned if he wasn't so happy for finally making you smile. The look was so unfamiliar on you but he definitely knew he wanted to see it more.

"I don't know why I never asked you." You chuckled softly. That was a complete lie. You didn't want to admit it or make it obvious that you have a raging crush on the other boy while being alone and so very close to him doing what you loved most.

George didn't even think about your comment. A chuckle? George's expectations were exceeded. He thought you would shrug it off and either go and keep to yourself or kindly decline.

"Come on Georgie!" You practically skipped out of the room, brushing past his shoulder and sending a jolt through his body. His heart swelled and he was honestly quite boastful at the moment. If he could shout it at the world he would. He felt like he deserved something for making Y/n L/n smile. But seeing your smile was an award in itself.

George followed her out of the house and down to explore the archives.

[onthecourtbugs]

Hey girl so I was thinking a tall reader with Nash and Jason possibly maybe more of jabberwock I haven’t seen a lot of people write for the rest of them..probably because they barely got any screen time like how Nash n Jason did,but if you can try that would be nice!!

Tall Gyal

Pairing: Jabberwocks x Tall!FemReader

Warning(s): None

A/N: You’re absolutely correct, we don’t see a lot for them! Allen’s is kinda short tho, ngl.

Summary: The Jabberwocks like tall girls too, don’t even lie and say they don’t.

-----

Jason

Still pinching and smacking and grabbing you everywhere. You thought being tall was gone save you? Uh-Uh. If anything, this makes it worse.

Or better? Maybe you like that.

Jay certainly does. It’s nice to not have to lean over or bend his knees to get a little action.

He loves it!

What he doesn’t love is the fact he can’t hide nothing from you. He’s used to putting stuff up high where he’s the only one who can reach it. Out of sight out of mind, right?

Wrong, cuz you can pull up a chair and see just fine. That and he’s not very original with his hiding spots so he’s practically inviting you to see all the snacks, surprise gifts and stuff you’re not supposed to know about.

He still hasn’t gotten used to the fact that someone else can and will reach up in his zone and take all his goodies 😫

You got that man frantically opening cupboards and swiping the empty spaces on top multiple times cuz he swore he put his Cheetos up there!

“Y/n!”

“Whut?” Laid out on the couch with the remote and an orange bag, watching your favorite show without a care in the world. The great thing about Jason’s place? Everything is bigger than you, even the shower.

“You seen my Cheetos?!”

You roll up the half-empty Cheeto bag with loud, telltale crinkles and start on licking your fingertips clean of evidence. “Nope! Check the cupboards!”

“I looked there already!” He sticks his head in the living room and glares at you as you quickly tuck the bag under your body.

You pull your thumb out with a loud pop. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me! I saw that!”

You smile, not even the least bit guilty. “I figured since Nash put you guys on that special diet, you wouldn’t need them anyway?”

“Nash don’t run nothing up in here!” He snatches the remaining Cheetos from underneath you and looks pitifully at them. “Damn, girl! You put a hurting’ on these didn’t you? Always eating my stuff…"

“Didn’t you take my goldfish and never gave em back?!”

“Mannn, why you bringing up old beef?”

“It was last night…”

“Like I said, in the past.”

You just want to snatch his piercings off sometimes.

Zach

He prefers tall girls anyway. Not to say he won’t go for average/short girls, but he def has a favorite in tall babes, and an even bigger favorite in you.

When you’re his girl, it’s a wrap, DMs are closed. Ain’t nobody else getting in.

He looks scary to some but trust me, he is totally and irreversibly whipped for you.

Makes grumpy grunts and whines and moans when he doesn’t wanna do something but ultimately does it anyway.

Gives you plenty of attitude when he’s mad but will never put his hands on you. He’ll reach for you and you flinch thinking he’s about to get physical, but he just picks you up and puts you in the bedroom for a time out.

Always tries to butter you up with food and hugs and kisses after he makes you mad.

Always has you on the inner part of the sidewalk.

Makes any excuse to touch you respectfully. -turns to look at Jason over the rim of my shades-

Want to wear heels, but feel insecure about being too tall? Zach is not about to let that slide.

He’s buying you heels and that’s final!

And not only that, he’s sliding them on your feet in the store and buckling/tying them up before taking your hands and helping you stand up in them.

Let somebody say sum to make you feel insecure about it.

“Go head! Say it with your chest! It’s not gone come out a second time so make it count.”

Happens to be a very talented dancer, and loves taking you to parties so he can show you off. Tends to reel back just so he can watch you do your thing in the shoes he got you.

Sometimes gets impatient for the slow songs so he can hold you close.

Sometimes doesn’t even wait and intimidates/bribes the DJ into putting on your favorite slow song to dance to.

Can’t even imagine a feeling better than holding you.

Nick

He’s just so happy you like him back.

All the girls usually go for Nash. 🥲

Shows out on the court when he notices you’re in the stands watching one of his games.

Jabberwocks ain’t never seen this man hustle so hard.

Cuz yeah, he did invite you and all, but you actually showed up 🥹

Like, you don’t understand, his heart is doing backflips in his chest. He cannot embarrass himself in front of you right now.

His teammates notice he keeps looking over at you and get nosy.

“Dayummmmm! She kinda bad tho!”

“That your girl, Nicky boy?”

“Yup~.”

They start setting Nick up for passes while having a whole interrogation in the middle of the game. 💀

Since when did he have a girl?

How come he’s never brought you around?

You were way too fine for him… but did you have a sister?

Nick stopped in his tracks and passed to Zach so he could fix Allen with a stare.

“What?”

“Really?”

“Quit being stingy! We could do double dates!”

Gets super excited when the game is over and you’re waiting for him to come over to you.

You looked so cool, leaning back on your ride with your shades propped up on your head and one ankle crossed over the other.

It was also easier to notice something about you that wasn’t so obvious when you were sitting… not that it mattered but…

“She kinda tall tho…”

Zach rolls his eyes. “Allen shut up.”

“I see why Nick was scared earlier, she bout as big as he is!”

Allen squints at Jason. “I know you ain’t calling nobody big, Paul Bunyan.”

“Cut it out.” Nash acts bored with the whole thing but he’s definitely watching from the corner of his eye.

You grab fistfuls of his jersey and pull him in for a kiss.

Allen

Allen’s not a complicated dude. He likes video games, anime, and basketball.

He doesn’t like getting into arguments with you and is generally chill with you.

Also likes that you’re closer to his height so he can grab you up.

He’s a straight clown and will act a right fool with most girls, but around you, he gets extra shy and acts aloof.

Thinks you’re kinda intimidating at first, but when he gets to know you he lets out his inner goof a bit and makes you laugh.

Nash does not let this man sit next to Jason when traveling, cuz when those two get together it’s over for everyone. Allen’s assigned seat is next to you.

Which is okay with him, if he can’t crack jokes with Jason he’ll just show you the newest Ninja Turtles movie trailer.

Has a million different playlists that he trades with you.

Doesn’t mind if your feet are in his lap when he plays video games.

Gamer lovers~

Tucks you in when you fall asleep before him, carefully removing your shoes and settling blankets over you.

Is extremely private about his relationship.

Has a whole system for buying consoles and games and will get you whatever you want.

Will carry you in any multiplayer game.

Is all for equality so if you’re higher than him he will let you carry.

Nash

Obsessed with your legs and loves to run his hands up the length of them when you’re in his lap.

They belong everywhere, on the couch, on the dashboard, heck, put them around his waist, he ain't mad.

Traveling first class is a given and that extra space is heaven.

Zach and Nash are brothers in arms when buying shoes for their baby girls.

He doesn’t care how tall you are, you’re still getting them.

So, remember when Jason couldn’t stand you cuz Nash is always letting you have your way?

He figured out how to take advantage of that 😂

Like you’ll actually have stuff in common and so seven times out of ten, when he wants something and knows Nash ain’t rolling with it, he’ll try to get you to ask for it.

Like when you want that one cousin your mom likes to ask if ya’ll can do something cuz you know if you ask she’s gonna say no?

You, my friend, are that cousin.

“Bro, you trying to go bowling again?”

Nash gives him a thumbs down and makes a buzzer noise. “Pick something else.”

“Mannnn.” He immediately turns to his trump card when you walk in “Yo, Y/n! YOU tryna go bowling again?”

“Are we going for real?!”

“What? No.”

“Aww, but why?” You drop into his lap a little too hard and he grunts but pulls you up against him into a more comfortable position.

“We went bowling yesterday,” he drums his fingers on your hip, “pick something else.”

“Well, we could do whatever you want first and then go!” You look up at him with soft eyes and just… ugh. The begging. He could handle attitude but was weak against the begging. “Please, baby?”

There was no way in hell he could refuse. You did give his interests first priority… His head falls back and he lets out a loud sigh before giving your thigh a light smack.

“Go get your shoes.”

[jawritter]

Carry On

Chapter 25

Summary: It was just a simple hunt, found on a pie festival. It was supposed to be easy. Something they’d all done one hundred and one times a million. No one could have told Y/N, Dean, and Sam that nothing from that point on would ever be the same again.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Angst! SOOO much angst!!! (Y’all gonna be mad mad). Talk of periods briefly. Language. Dean’s kinda a dick here. (Ducks from flying shoes). 

Due to the graphic nature of this fic, and the fact that it will eventually contain Smut. This fic is an 18 + only fic! If you’re under 18 DO NOT read this fic!

A/N: This fic is beta’d by @kazsrm67​​​​ Thanks so much love! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this ride with me!

My Mastlist        Series Masterlist

One year later

“Dude, you drop that fucking car off of that lift I swear I’m going to—”

“I got it Dean!” Josh insisted. “Chill dude. I’ve done this for over a year now, I think I can get her up there and back down safely.”

Y/N chuckled to herself as she watched the pair. Josh was completely amused by his boss’s overreaction every time the young man decided to operate any sort of heavy equipment, and Dean stood by mumbling under his breath as he watched him. 

Dean never would stop being a mother hen to these young guys he had working for him. It was just his nature to take these young guys on and teach them what he knows. He taught Sam everything he could about hunting, and what he’d listen to about cars. That last one didn’t come so easy. Now that Sam was gone, he’d taken to hiring boys fresh out of high school, and allowing them to work for him in the shop while they sorted out their college decisions. Several of them loved Dean like an older brother. I mean, he was hard as fuck not to love, even if he was a little grumpy in his old age; some  stayed even after they got their engineering degrees. Josh was one of those boys. By far Dean’s favorite too, that’s why he rode him the way he did. It was Dean’s strange way of teaching him. 

“You gonna stand there and gripe at me all day, or you gonna go home with your lady and let me finish this oil change so we can close up shop for the day? Y/N’s been waiting for you for the past fifteen minutes. I got this, go home!” Josh pressed, and Dean tossed his hands in the air in surrender. 

“Fine, fine, I’m going,” Dean voiced as he turned his back on Josh and started making his way towards the office where Y/N was standing at the doors waiting for him; her arms crossed, leaning against the door frame. 

“Done harassing the help?” Y/N teased as soon as he was in ear shot, and before Dean could even answer, Josh shot a loud, “No! He’s not!” from the garage, which caused Dean to turn on his heels and side eye the back of Josh’s head. 

“Little fuckers gonna be fucking cleaning this shop floor with a fucking tooth brush tomorrow,” Dean mumbled. 

Y/N tossed her head back in a full body laugh as Josh, who apparently has the fucking hearing of a bat, turned and stuck his tongue out at Dean in a very childish manner, and Dean growled in response. 

“Okay boss man, let the guy work,” Y/N suggested as she grabbed Dean’s arm, and diverted his attention to her instead of murdering his favorite employee. “You’ve been up here for over nine hours today, time to let go and get some rest. You’re gonna overdo it, and we have a long drive to Austin tomorrow.”

“That’s the thing,” Dean voiced with a sigh as he grabbed his jacket from the back of the office chair. “I shouldn’t even be leaving to go to Austin. I have responsibilities here and—”

“And every damn one of them will be right here when you get home,” Y/N cut him off, and Dean looked at her much like a sulking child. “Now, come on, your nephew is almost six months old, and you haven’t met him yet. You’re taking this trip Winchester, cut the fucking cord and let the guys you hired do the job while you’re gone.”

“I know, I know,” Dean relented as he looked around the shop office one last time, his eyes lingering on where Josh now had the Toyota on the lift, and was working on draining the old oil. “This is just the first time we’ve left everything and gone anywhere, and I seriously didn’t think I’d get separation anxiety over a fucking job and a house, but here I am.” 

There was a chuckle in Dean’s voice, but Y/N could tell he was anything but amused. They’d been together long enough, she knew his teles, and he was stressed as fuck. This is why Dean Jr. was going on six months old, and they had yet to make the trip to Austin to meet the kid. 

Y/N took a deep breath and crossed the floor to where Dean was still standing, staring off in Josh’s direction, but not really seeing him. She hated when he did this. The therapist said it might always be something that Dean had to deal with, but it didn’t break her heart any less. The fear, the anxiety, the nightmares, the horrible flashbacks. They had gotten considerably less, but when he was stressed out, they always seemed to rear their unwelcomed, ugly heads. 

“Hey, that’s because you’ve never really had anything to lose until now. Look at all you’ve gained Dean! You’ve got a lot to be proud of.”

Dean swallowed thickly, and she just knew he was standing there counting his breaths to calm himself down. She needed to get him out of here, get him relaxed. 

“Come on, let’s go home for the night. I’ve already got Baby all packed up and ready to go. All you have to do is get some sleep, and put some open road under her wheels in the morning. For tonight though, let’s just try to get some sleep. Okay?”

Dean nodded, allowing her to lead him through the shop and out the door to where her car was waiting. She’d dropped Dean off at the shop this morning, so that he could work while she did the stressful packing part. 

They were only going to be gone for a week, and a good portion of that trip was going to be driving. Dean and Sam were somewhat getting along. Their relationship was still undoubtedly a little tense. Maybe it always would be. Still, they were at least talking and not arguing, and that was a step. That didn’t mean that Dean wanted to be trapped for days in Austin with Sam and Eileen in a two-bedroom, one bathroom house though, so they were only going to stay for about two days with them before they headed back. 

“Have you talked to Sam?” Y/N questioned as they both clambered into her ride. Dean’s eyes still had that look about them. So, she was doing all she could to at least get him talking. Get him focused on the conversation and not whatever lies or horror show his head was telling him. 

“He’s called four times today,” Dean revealed. “I think they’re a little excited that we’re coming, and I think he’s kinda scared that I’m going to change my mind.”

“You need this trip Dean. You need to get away for a while, see your family,” Y/N insisted as she pulled onto the main road headed towards home, the street lights now on overhead, lighting the way in the twilight of the evening. There were kids playing out in their yards. Dads and moms sitting on porches and dogs running about. It was a suburbia paradise, almost picture perfect, and she’d love to know what Dean thought of it all really as she watched his pale green orbs dancing over the scenes playing out in front of him.  

“Sammy and I were forced to spend the majority of the better part of our lives together,” Dean said after a moment. “You’d think he’d be sick of me by now.”

Y/N snorted as she turned onto their road. She never would get over how Dean could just be flat out honest sometimes. No remorse, nor filter. 

“I’m sure by the time two days are up he will be ready to get rid of us,” Y/N chuckled to herself. 

“Did you pick up my meds from the pharmacy? We won't have time to stop and get them before we leave tomorrow,” Dean said suddenly, worry strung thick in his voice. He didn’t have to take the pain medication often, especially since he was a lot more active now, and had built a pretty good bit of his strength back up since the accident, but that didn’t stop him from worrying about sitting in a car for so long, and what that might do to him. 

“I did Dean, it’s all in your duffle bag right where you can find it,” Y/N assured him as she placed the car in park in front of their house. She turned to look over at Dean, and she could tell he was over tense just by the way he seemed to gnaw at his teeth. 

“Dean, I can literally see you stressing,” Y/N told him, and he chuckled to himself as he finally looked at her. 

“What can I say? I worry a lot in my old age,” Dean teased, but she could tell that his smile still wasn’t reaching his eyes. It wasn’t a good day for him, and she was kicking herself for not going and picking him up from work a lot sooner. 

This is the part people don't talk about often when it comes to traumatic injuries. Sure, you might survive, and even regain some sense of a normal life back. They don’t talk to you about the shit that your mind won't let you heal from. The mental scars that won't go away.

“You’re not old Dean,” Y/N insisted. “You’ve successfully aged well past what you were intended to. You’ve accomplished the age you’re at now, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Dean’s hand raised  continuously  brushing at the light beard on his face, especially over the gray hair that was scattered there. Dean didn’t like them so much, Y/N on the other hand could help but think that the older the man got the hotter he got, so therefore she didn’t mind them at all. 

“Too old to get you pregnant apparently,” Dean affirmed with a tired, half smile. 

Her heart sank like a rock in her gut. So much so that it stunned her;  she instantly wanted to cry. Once again, as she’d done so often with Dean from time to time, she’d totally and completely misread the situation. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to leave the house and the shop, at least not all of it. Some of it was that he didn’t want to meet his nephew because even though the pair of them had been sexually active for a smidge over a year, Y/N still hadn’t gotten pregnant. 

“Is that what this is about?” Y/N stuttered dumbly, still somewhat in shock. Dean just grimaced, and opened the car door. 

“It’s nothing Baby, forget I said anything. I need to go take a shower; I’m beat—”

“Dean!” Y/N said a little louder, catching his attention;  he froze in his tracks, bending down to look back at her after looking over the roof of the car at the neighbor's house. 

“Not here sweetheart, please, let’s talk about this inside.”

There was a seriousness in his voice that left zero room for argument, so she numbly climbed out of the car, once again, feeling as if she absolutely failed the man she loved, and she hated that. 

Dean unlocked the front door to their home, and stepped aside to let her in first before quickly following suit and closing the door behind them. 

“Listen, Y/N,” Dean voiced quickly before Y/N could even get a word out. “I don’t want to argue, please. I just can’t, not about this, okay? I didn’t mean anything by it. I spoke out of turn, it was stupid, and I’m sorry. It’s not even something we’ve talked about… well at all, and I really, really, don’t want you to be upset with me.”

“Dean, I’m not upset with you,” Y/N corrected him quickly, grabbing his hand before he could either run away upstairs, or before he could get uncomfortable and totally deflect the situation. “Hey, look at me. It’s not your fault that I’m not pregnant, or haven’t gotten pregnant Dean. It has nothing to do with your age whatsoever. It doesn’t even have anything to do with your accident.”

“I know we weren’t actively trying Y/N, but I’m not an idiot. We haven’t exactly been preventing it either, and by now it looks like—”

“Dean! Would you stop it! I’m on birth control, you dork!”

Dean’s eyes bulged almost comically out of his head, and his jaw shut tight with his teeth giving an audible click that seemed loud in the suddenly quiet room. 

“You’re right, we weren’t really trying, but I’ve been on birth control to regulate my cycles since I was a teenager. When I was a hunter, it was a hell of a lot more convenient to KNOW when you were about to menstruate when you were hunting monsters that can literally smell blood. I’ve been on it so long, that I just continued taking it. We never really talked about having kids, at least we hadn’t  seriously talked about it, and had I known that you wanted kids… Dean, I would have stopped taking it a year ago.”

Dean said nothing, just blinked at her before stumbling off towards the kitchen table where he  sat down heavily; the sound of the kitchen chair scraping across the floor echoed off of the walls and made her flinch. Her gut dropped even further;  her feet felt as if she weighed a thousand pounds as she slowly made her way towards him, as though he was going to explode or something. 

She didn’t know what he was at that moment. Mad? Hurt? Sad? Relieved? Shocked was an obvious one. She felt terrible! She never really thought about it, but now that she knew HE wanted kids, hell, she’d LOVE to have a little Dean Jr  running around. It wasn’t something she was opposed to at all; just something she didn’t think Dean ever wanted. 

As if she were dealing with an angry Viper, Y/N sat down across the table from Dean slowly, who was staring blankly at the wall, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“Dean?” Y/N tried, her own voice trembling in the silent room. “Please say something…”

“You didn’t—you didn’t tell me you were taking birth control,” he said after a long pause, and Y/N felt as if there was something holding onto her throat and squeezing the life out of her. “Why? Why didn’t you say something?”

Y/N looked down at the table, picking silently at a rogue piece of salt that sat on the dark wood from where they’d eaten lunch earlier that day. If she felt horrible before, she felt even worse now.

“When we first got together, you had been hurt really, really bad. My sole focus became getting you healthy and where you needed to be. We didn’t even know at the time if a physical relationship was even possible and—”

“And we’ve been having sex for a year Y/N, a fucking year! You never thought that… ‘you know he’s not pulling out or bothering to put a goddamn condom on, maybe I should tell him I’m taking birth control!’

Y/N visibly flinched, she couldn’t look up at him, but she could feel his gaze burning holes into the side of her face. He kinda had a point, but she never thought of it, she really didn’t. She was far too focused on other things. Like making sure he was comfortable;  not in pain and trying to cover it up the way he liked to do. 

The loud, obnoxious sound of the chair moving across the floor made her flinch again;  she jumped as he knelt down next to her, moving her  chair to face him as if she weighed nothing at all, still, she couldn’t look at him, and she didn’t really understand why she wouldn’t defend herself on the matter. Why couldn’t she respond  when ultimately; it was her body, and her choice as to whether or not she wanted to carry and have a child. So why was she so upset over the fact that he was upset that she didn’t tell him she’d kept taking birth control? It was a silly thing really. It wasn’t like she was hiding it from him or didn’t tell him on purpose, she just seriously didn’t think about telling him. 

“Hey,” he said after a moment, his voice much, much softer than it had been a moment ago, which gave her enough boldness to glance up at him, even though she felt like her heart was in a vice and at any moment her chest was going to cave in on itself. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I shouldn’t have lost it like that. I should have talked to you instead of just assuming. I didn’t  have any right to yell at you. You know I suck at communicating. I just assumed that you weren’t on anything, and that I was the problem, which made me not talk about it because it’s embarrassing, and—”

Dean took a deep breath and ran his hand down his face again, struggling with his own emotions as she watched him in silence. For some reason, she couldn’t make the choke hold on her throat let go enough for her to speak, or even to confront him about it. Why did that hurt the way it did? She might never understand that one. 

“If you don’t want to stop taking the pills I understand. I wouldn’t want to have kids with me either. I should have asked you instead of just assuming and taking matters into my own hands. That was stupid. You won’t hear another word about it from me. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’m gonna leave you alone now, and go take a shower, because I don’t know what to say to make the way I act better. I’ll be in our room unless you want me to sleep in the office.”

Dean gave pause for a moment, his green orbs searching her face, but only sighed as he stood to his feet with some effort, leaning down to kiss her on the top of her forehead, allowing his lips to linger there as he did so before he made his way out of the kitchen, and up the stairs. 

That’s when she allowed the tears she’d been holding onto in front of him to fall. 

He’d never done anything in the over a year they’d been together to hurt her. He’d never raised his voice at her. They’d never really even got in a fight. Hell, he just relented and apologized as soon as it happened, that was a big step for Dean, so why on earth did it feel like he just slapped her in the face, shattered her heart, and then tossed it on a burn pile?

Forever:

@bubsonnobx​​​​

@britnwinchester​​​​​​​​​​​

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat​​​​​​​​​​

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@hobby27​​​​​​​​​​​

@spnbaby-67​​​​​​​​​​​  

@mrsjenniferwinchester​​​​​​​​​​​

@defenderrosetyler​​​​​​​​​​​

@thecreatiivecorner​​​​​​​​​​​  

@vicmc624​​​​​​​​​​​

@busy-bee-angel-misska​​​​​​​​​​​

@justanotherwinchester​​​​​​​​​​

@brilovesdeanwinchester​​​​​​​​​​

@idksupernatural​​​​​​​​​​​

@lyarr24​​​​​​​​​​​

@emoryhemsworth​​​​​​​​​​​

@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel​​​​​​​​​​​

@flamencodiva​​​​​​​​​​​

@itmejado

@thoughts-and-funnies​​​​​​​​​​​

@teresa-67​​​​​​​​​​​

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@peaches007​​​​​​​​​​​

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@writercole​​​​​​​​​​​

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Jensen and Dean’s Babes

@deans-baby-momma​​​​​​​​​​​  

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@perpetualabsurdity​​​​​​​​​​​

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@akshi8278​​​​​​​​​​​

@love-jackles​​​​​​​​​​​

@irmcpar​​​​​​​​​​​

@pink-sparkly-witch​​​​​​​​​​​

@deans-spinster-witchs-favorites​​​​​​​​​​​

@herstarburststories​

@mimaria420​​​​​​​​​​​

@deanwinchesterswitch​​​​​​​​​​​

@charred-angelwings​​​​​​​​​​​

@pascal-rascal424​​​​​​​​​​​

@myloversgone​​​​​​​​​​​

@fortheloveof-jackles​​​​​​​​​​​

@eevvvaa​​​​​​​​​​​

@bts-spnlvr12​​​​​​​​​​​

@jxackles

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@ladysparks78

@sarahgracej​

[gettingfrilly]

Young, Wild, and Ed

A/N: This fic is based on my first experience getting high. eddeddy, but whether it's platonic, pre relationship, or post getting together is left up to interpretation. Rated T. Read it on AO3.

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‘Boring. Boring. God damn. Why is everything so boring all of the time forever?’

These are the deep, philosophical questions for the ages that run through Eddy’s shapely head as he gazes up at the torn upholstery dangling from the roof through the smoky haze filling the back of The Van (the three of them took to calling it that years ago after bouncing around a bunch of different names that never stuck.) Ed occupies The Van alongside him, banging his head to the noisy mess of music pouring out of the speakers that mount the walls on either side of the waterbed. The bass is loud enough to make the whole bed jiggle, reverberating through Eddy’s jeans and making his eardrums itch.

“Ed, could ya turn that noise down?”

No answer.

“Hey, lumpy!” Now the noise is accompanied by Ed’s fist slamming against the wall, greasy, ginger hair flopping in front of his eyes as he makes what looks like his best attempt to snap his head clean off his neck.

“Ed!” He shouts, losing his permanently short temper. “Turn off your awful fucking music!!”

The scream rips painfully out of his smoke irritated windpipe, but his efforts aren’t for nothing. Ed finally realizes he’s being talked to and turns down the volume on the speakers before answering him.

“What was that, Eddy?” Ed yells his question as if the music were still blaring.

“Just keep it down,” is Eddy’s grumpy response, taking another rip from their shared bong. That’ll be his last for tonight. Ed’s shit does some crazy nonsense to his brain if he doesn’t limit himself.

“Roger dodger.” Ed replies cheerfully, holding out his hand towards Eddy. Eddy takes the hint and hands the bong back over.

“No more for me, Ed. Knock yourself out.”

“The old man is snoring, Eddy.”

“Uh huh.” He collapses backwards onto the water bed, the jiggly sack undulating underneath him and slinky-ing his spine. He’s just gotten bored enough to start counting the fairy lights Ed hung up some time ago when more loud banging gets his attention.

“Ed—!” He sits up to tell him off, but is surprised to see Double D standing in the doorway to the back of The Van. The sound of the doors slamming against the exterior of The Van still echo against the walls of his skull, the creaky hinges squealing like they’re about to give up the ghost. 

‘Great,’ Eddy thinks with a grimace, ‘here comes the fun police.’

It’s been quite some time since Double D tried to police this particular activity. He has taken to quietly slipping off back home once the glassware comes out, and in return Ed and Eddy had spared him from teasing him for being a goody two shoes wuss. But he seems more adamant than ever this time, shoulders set and jaw clenched as he searches The Van for his target. Once his eyes land on the bong in Ed’s hand, he steps forward, hand held out rod stiff, his voice clear, calm, and hard.

“Hand it over.”

“Boo!” Eddy jeers. “What are you, his mother?”

“I’ve been a bad boy, Mama D.” Ed chuckles, tongue sticking out through his teeth as he holds the bong out of reach. “Ed, I mean it! I—” Double D cuts himself off, taking a deep breath and then coughing as the smoke filled air enters his dainty virgin lungs.

“I want—” he waves at the air in front of his face, getting a lungful of slightly fresher air before continuing. “I am going to partake in smoking marijuana with my peers.”

The stale air in The Van grows even more stagnant. Eddy’s not sure he heard Double D right, and Ed’s expression has gone completely blank. Something must have eventually clicked into place, because before Eddy can formulate a response, Ed’s eyes light up as a wide smile splits his face.

“All right, Double D!” He cheers while re-stuffing the bowl. “Welcome to the club, brother! Some wacky tabacky to celebrate we shall have.”

“Holy shit.” Eddy lets out a laugh as he finally catches up with everyone else, slapping his knee before standing to sling an arm around Double D. “No foolin’? You’re gonna break the law? Use an illegal substance?” The blush that rapidly spreads across Double D’s face is as pretty as it is hilarious, and Eddy wishes he knew if it was from the teasing, the close proximity, or both. 

“Well… no pun intended, but it’s high time, don’t you think? It’s a ritual of youth to rebel against the norms and standards of our well ordered society in an attempt to express individuality and independence. It’s a rite of passage, if you will; it’s criminal activity, yes, but ceremonial in its own way, an inevitable metamorphosis that we must all undergo, consequences be damned, as they say, and furthermore—”

“Dee! Relax. Yeesh. You don’t gotta justify it to us, we ain’t cops,” he interrupts his impassioned rambling, taking note of the way Double D’s fists clench and unclench, the way his tongue runs over the front of his teeth, how his eyes pierce straight into nothingness.

‘Criminy. Why’s he always gotta be so serious about everything?’ Eddy wonders.

“Is it like the ceremony in ‘They Came from the Back of the Fridge: Part Four’, when the chuck roast from the mutated omega cow gains sentience and plots to sacrifice Timmy, Tommy, and the string bean boys to return from whence it came?” Ed asks excitedly, his red eyes wide with wonder and sleep boogers.

“Yup, exactly like that.” Eddy answers just to shut him up, then gives Double D’s back a hardy slap and leads him over to the bed. “C’mon, let’s pop that cherry.” “Must you be so vulgar?” Double D complains with an accompanying pained expression, rubbing his assaulted spine. “Eddy is saucy like gravy, Double D.” “Shut up, Ed.” Eddy reaches over to grab the bong, placing it and his lighter in Double D’s waiting hands. “Thank you, Eddy.” Double D studies the bong carefully, holding it up at eye level and squinting at the contents inside. After rotating the bong a few times, he lifts out the bowl and peers inside the down stem, then puts the pieces together again. Gentle fingers run around the rim of the carb as he places the mouthpiece under his nose and takes a delicate whiff, followed by a grimace. All the while, Eddy watches Double D with an innocent smile, feigning ignorance as he fights to hold back his snickers.

“... Oh, just help me already!” Double D finally relents, face heated as he shoves the apparatus in Eddy’s direction. That does him in, laughter pouring out of him as he clutches his sides.

“Don’t sprain your brain there, Professor Bunsen Burnout!” He teases as the last of his laughter dies out between them, “Ed, get some ice. Gotta protect his baby lungs.”

“They grow up so fast, Eddy.”

Once the ice from the cooler is in the catcher and Double D has wiped down the mouthpiece with a disinfectant wipe, (‘Where the hell did he pull those from?’) Eddy holds the bong out in front of his face. “Lips on the mouthpiece—not like that, jeez, it’s not a blow job, Dee. Yeah, like that. Okay, thumb here. I’m gonna light the bowl. Don’t inhale until I start to lift it. Ready? Suck it up, babe.”

Eddy doubts the smoke even made it into Double D’s lungs, his thin, wiry frame wracked with an almost immediate coughing fit. It sounds bad enough that Eddy doesn’t even laugh, looking on in uncharacteristic concern as he gives Double D’s heaving back a few firm thumps.

“Good Lord, that was awful!” Double D finally cries out once he’s caught his breath, pounding his own chest with a firm fist as he tries to completely vacate the smoke from his airways. “Why on earth does anyone do this?”

“It turns my brain into a soft and fluffy bunny.” Ed supplies unhelpfully.

“That rip sucked shit, Dee.” Eddy chastises the newbie, giving his back a few rubs before  putting the bong in front of his face again. “You need to take a slow, deep breath, then hold it. Ya know, like how Ed takes his inhaler.”

“A world where I can’t pet kittens is a world I don’t want to live in anyway, my friends.”

“You told me to suck it up.” Double D pouts petulantly, eyeing the offered bong warily. “I didn’t mean it literary.”

“Literally, Eddy.”

“Literally suck my nuts. C’mon, try again.”

He’s fully expecting Double D to reject him, that his failed rip was enough of a confidence destroyer to halt his experimenting before he ever really got started. But to Eddy’s surprise, he takes the bong, lights the bowl himself this time, and takes a deep breath as instructed. Tears fill his eyes as he holds the smoke in his lungs, valiantly restraining himself from hacking up a lung again. He still coughs on the exhale, but not nearly as much as he did before. Eddy feels something resembling pride; whether he’s proud of Double D for finally being a little more adventurous, or proud of himself for being a bad enough influence to sully Double D’s innocence, he’s not sure. “You always were a quick learner.” He says in a congratulatory voice, giving Double D a soft pat on the back to help ease his wheezing coughs.

“Yes—well. I never suspected that my eagerness to learn would assist me in a situation such as this.”

“Knowledge is power, Double D, and power keeps the lights on.” Ed takes the bong back and Double D watches on quietly as he hits it easily, not a single wheeze to be heard or tearful waterline to be seen. “True, but my powers will never match yours, Ed.”

Ed grins proudly at the compliment as he hands the bong back.

“Whoa, slow your roll,” Eddy starts, trying to intercept the bong, “that’s enough for one night. Ed gets the strong shit and you’re new to this.”

“Oh?” Double D interjects with a raised brow, looking down his nose at Eddy. “Now who’s behaving like someone else’s mother?”

Eddy’s glare could kill if Double D wasn’t so used to being on the receiving end of it. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, sockhead.” For his considerations, Eddy gets a tongue stuck out at him. That’s what he gets for giving a shit, apparently.

The evening goes on as it usually does, The Van continuing to fill up with smoke and laughter. The addition of Double D is a welcome surprise to the mix, and as he gets more acquainted with the bong, his smile grows wider and wider, his usually tense shoulders relaxed and jumping with laughter. Eddy can’t help but smile in kind at Double D’s easy grin, struggling to remember the last time he saw him this unclenched.  There’s a nagging at the back of his brain, but he decides to ignore it. Why question a good thing? Double D is actually telling naughty jokes—using scientific innuendo and vocabulary neither he nor Ed can understand, but they get the gist of it. He doesn’t even cover his mouth when he laughs at his own raunchy humor, guffawing loudly with no attempt to hide his gap. God, Eddy hopes Double D keeps joining them for this.

Eventually, they all start to wind down, basking in the glow of a good time with good friends. Ed, as usual, keeps talking shop, making sure his friends stay up to date on the world of cheap comics and B rated monster flicks. Eddy gives him half-hearted responses, eyes drooping as he feels his bedtime fast approaching him. Ed isn’t immune to the passage of time, either, obnoxiously loud yawns escaping his gaping maw in between sentences.

It’s not until Ed’s lighting up the very last of the bowl that Eddy realizes Double D hasn’t said anything in a while. He gives the body lying next to him a cursory glance, frowning at what he finds; Double D’s face is pale and his eyes are wide, arms pinned to his sides as he stares at the roof, chest just barely rising and falling with shallow breaths.

‘Shit.’

“Uh, Double D?” Eddy tries to get his attention, Ed noticing the sudden silence as he peaks over at the two of them. A long silence stretches between the three friends as Double D continues to stare at nothing, his whole body going more and more rigid the longer the silence continues. Eddy’s about to freak and try to snap him out of it when he finally answers in a tiny, breathy voice.

“I can’t move.”

“Oh, brother.” Eddy bemoans, rubbing his face as Ed looks on in terror.

“Oh no! Double D’s been paralyzed by the mist creatures of centurion moon six!”

“No, burhead, he’s just high,” he gives Double D a wary look before adjusting his statement, “like, really high.”

“Oh.” Ed says with a frown. “Poor little guy.”

“I need to go to the hospital,” Double D whispers, voice strained as if every syllable is a battle.

“No, you need to go to bed. Lumpy.” Eddy snaps his fingers demandingly, standing and pointing at Double D’s motionless body. Ed gives him a solemn salute before grabbing Double D and throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of clean laundry and taking him out of The Van and into the humid night air. He hangs there limply, beanie flopping up and over his head while his hands dangle near Ed’s ass.

“Ed,” Double D speaks, his words muffled by the green fabric of Ed’s jacket, “when was the last time you washed this jacket?”

“Not since many fortnights ago, brave soldier,” Ed commiserates, giving Double D’s bony butt an apologetic pat.

Eddy makes sure to hide the goods and turn off the music before stepping outside with them and closing the doors shut. Mosquitoes immediately go for his pale, pink skin, his arms flailing wildly as he tries to shoo the buzzing annoyances away. The acrid stench of the junkyard is worse than ever after a day sitting under the summer sun, leaving Eddy itching to get home and get in bed.

“Vamoose, Ed.”

“Moose? Where, Eddy?” Ed shouts excitedly as he whips his body around this way and that, trying to spot the megafauna himself. Double D ragdolls in Ed’s grip, arms swaying comically as his face bumps repeatedly into Ed’s back.

“Ed, please—” Double D whines.

“Give it a rest, lumpy. You just missed it. C'mon, let’s go.” “Aw, I wanted to see the moose, Eddy.”

They make their way to the lane, needing no light to guide them along the familiar path out of the junkyard. The night air is full of the sounds of crickets and peepers, nostalgic and familiar and fucking annoyingly loud. It doesn’t pair well with Ed’s rambling, recounting the gory details of one of his more recently read comic books to his two friends. As much of a bombardment on his senses as it is, Eddy still finds it somewhat comforting, like the way his room smells or waking up and hearing his mom listening to the same news anchors every morning. On the other hand, it makes their situation feel extra jarring, filling Eddy with unease as he watches his friend be so out of character, listless and silent as he dangles, stoned, from Ed’s sloping shoulder. Now that he thinks about it, he can’t really imagine what could have made Double D suddenly go back on the D.A.R.E. pledge he’s taken so seriously since the fifth grade, never mind why he made no attempts to limit just how much he smoked.

He doesn’t have very long to think about it, though, the three of them already arriving at the turn that will take them towards Double D’s house. Making the assumption that his parents aren’t home, he fishes the house keys out of Double D’s pocket once they've made it to the front door and lets them all in, Ed still mid-ramble about a particular panel where the heroine’s breast had been ripped off.

“Couch.” He doesn’t even need to look at Ed while issuing his command, the big oaf going straight for Double D’s living room to place him gently on the cushions. Neither of them wipe their feet at the entrance mat, and Double D doesn’t make a single peep about it, further worsening Eddy’s unease about all this.

“Go home, Ed. I’m gonna keep an eye on Mr. Psychedelic over here.”

“Ya sure, Eddy? I haven’t even gotten to the part where her eyeballs melt into her skull and out of her nose.”

“With the way your mom’s been talking about military school, you really shouldn’t be missing any more curfews.”

“Camo makes me chafe, Eddy.” Ed answers, lower lip jutting out while he goes into full puppy eyes mode.

“Then get home. I’ll call my folks with Double D’s phone.”

Ed gives one last solemn salute before trudging outside, closing the door behind him. When he glances at Double D, he finds him with his eyes closed, muttering something rapidly under his breath. While he’s occupied with… whatever that is, Eddy takes the opportunity to use the phone out in the hallway, letting his mom know that he’s sleeping over at Double D’s. He returns to his prone friend once that’s taken care of, standing above him and giving him a skeptical once over, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

Double D’s lids snap open, eyes darting around in their sockets as he takes in his new surroundings. “Where am I?” He asks stiffly.

“Your house.”

“Oh. How did I get here?”

“Ed carried you.”

Much to Eddy’s annoyance, Double D’s eyes start welling up with tears. “Lovable oaf.”

“Look, I don’t get to say this often, especially not to you, so I’m gonna savor it.” Eddy pauses for dramatic effect, taking a deep breath as he raises his hands up near his face, pointer fingers and thumbs pressed together and eyes slipping shut. On the exhale, his hands slide away from his face like a conductor waving two batons, eyes staying shut as he gets on his tiptoes and leans down to say his piece. “I told ya so.”

“Are you sure I shouldn’t go to the hospital?” Double D’s voice wavers, causing Eddy to open his eyes and frown down at him.

“Yes, I’m sure. You’re having a bad reaction and panicking over it. You just need to sleep it off.”

“I still can’t move,” is all his usually verbose friend can say. Typically when Double D’s in a state of panic, he can’t shut up, gesturing wildly as emotions play openly on his animated face. Seeing him so stiff and at a loss for words is upsetting, even if Eddy knows why.

“Your gears are jammed.” He explains unscientifically, gently rapping his knuckles against Double D’s forehead. “Like I said, you’ll sleep it off.”

“I…” Double D starts, trailing off with narrowed eyes. “I have… the munchies? That’s what they’re called?”

Eddy rolls his eyes and sighs laboriously. “I guess I’ll make you a sandwich, your royal highness.” He lifts a brow at him, a complete lack of amusement in both his expression and his voice. “Get it? High? Ness?”

Double D just gives him a confused look.

“Yeah, my heart wasn’t really in that one.” 

He leaves Double D in his state of confusion, and as he walks down the hall and turns into the kitchen, the first thing he notices is another atypical site for the evening—a mess in Double D’s kitchen. More specifically, it’s a mess of sticky notes piled on the floor in front of his unusually barren fridge. 

‘The heck?’ Eddy thinks to himself as he approaches the pile, his hair standing on end. He kneels down to start picking through the notes but doesn’t find anything out of the ordinary; it’s the same old list of chores and reminders he usually sees hanging all over the walls and furniture of Double D’s house. Determined to figure out what the hell’s going on with his friend, he keeps digging, reading them all until one of the notes at the bottom of the pile gives him pause.

‘DEAR EDDWARD,

YOUR FATHER AND I WON’T BE ABLE TO ATTEND YOUR RECITAL. HAVE ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS RECORD IT FOR US.

♡ MOM’

Eddy scowls as his fingers grip the edges of the note, heated breath huffing out of his widened nostrils. Fucking of course that’s what tonight has been about. Double D’s once-every-two-years steel pedal guitar recital is one of the few things his parents still both show up for; it’s the only reason Double D still plays the hated instrument. Sure, when he was a kid, he made sure to follow all of his parents’ notes to a T, but as he’s gotten older and been left alone more often and for longer periods of time, he’s become a lot more lax about the notes. The notes about his steel pedal guitar, though, he always follows, and though he’s never admitted to it, Eddy knows it’s out of a desperation to impress his absent parents. 

All that work he puts into the stupid thing, and now his folks ain’t even showing their faces—won’t be showing their faces for who knows how long.

Eddy hastily crumples the note in his hand before grabbing fistfuls of the rest of the discarded notes, cramming them tightly in his fists. He stands and makes his way to the garbage can, foot pressing down on the pedal to lift the lid when a better idea occurs to him. Letting the lid fall back down, he marches over to the sink, shoving the crumpled up balls down the drain and running the water before he flips the garbage disposal on. The sound of the blades churning the soggy notes brings him a small amount of satisfaction, and he lets it run until all he hears from the drain is a gentle hum.

“Eddy.”

Nearly jumping out of his skin, Eddy slams down on the faucet and turns to face the hallway leading to the living room, heart beating a mile a minute. For a second, he thinks he might have just been imagining things, but then he hears it again.

“Eddy.” Double D calls out from the living room, sounding more frantic this time.

‘Shit.’ Alright, forget the sandwich. He swings open cupboard doors in an attempt to find something Double D can snack on, grabbing the first food item sees.

“Hold yer horses!” Eddy calls back to him before making his way to the living room with a box of chunky puffs in hand. He's eager to make sure Double D is okay but stops in his tracks when he sees what’s going on. Eyes wide with wonder, mouth agape and gap on display, Double D carefully tracks the movement of his own arm, which he repeatedly lifts up into the air before dropping it back to the couch again. Eddy stands still in the doorway and watches him repeat the motion a few more times before he steps over, looking down at Double D with his brow furrowed and lips turned down.

Finally taking notice of him, Double D’s gaze drifts from his arm and up towards Eddy’s face. “I can move my arm.”

“... Congratulations.”

“It goes up, and then down. Up, and down. Up… and down.” Double D narrates, gaze falling back to his miraculously mobile arm.

“I think Ed has more brain power than you right now.” Eddy shares his scary thought. “Think you can move that arm down into a box of chunky puffs and up into your mouth?”

Double D’s hopeful expression let’s Eddy know that he’s gonna try his damnedest, anyway. He puts the box on the floor next to the couch, nodding in satisfaction when Double D succeeds in stuffing a handful of cereal into his maw. He chews his lip as his mind wanders back to what he found in the kitchen, feet shuffling awkwardly on the clean carpet.

“Hey, Dee? You know that recital you have coming up?”

Double D freezes mid transport, fist full of cereal hanging over the edge of the couch as he gives Eddy a deer-caught-in-the-headlights stare.

“Well, there’s a movie coming out that day that Ed really wants to see. Bad enough that he said he’d shell out the cash for our tickets. You should skip the recital and hang with us.”

Double D lets out a slow breath, arm relaxing before he brings the cereal to his mouth. He chews slowly, gazing thoughtfully up at the ceiling as he sits with Eddy’s suggestion.

“Mm. I may take you up on that.”

“Great. That rebellious streak is finally coming in full swing, huh?”

“Oh, yes. I’m quite the rapscallion now.”

Eddy snickers, then goes silent when he sees Double D’s eyes welling up with tears again. He lifts both hands to his chest and clutches them together, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt as he goes back to lying motionless.

“Jesus.” Eddy rubs the back of his own neck, grimacing down at the display. “You want your weighted blanket or something?”

“No.” Double D whispers his answer, tears threatening to spill over his cheeks, still plump with baby fat.

“Why not? You love that thing.”

Double D blinks and the tears finally fall, running down his temples and getting absorbed into his beanie as he starts whispering again. “Because that was the present my parents got me the last time they bothered to be home for my birthday.”

That tears it. Eddy groans in frustration and moves into action, stepping closer to the couch so that he can lay himself down on top of Double D, chests pressing together as his shorter legs lay over Double D’s longer ones, arms folding at the elbow and squeezing against his sides in an almost hug. The couch creaks unnervingly before settling, the both of them sinking further down into it. The soft breath he hears him let out makes Eddy shiver, the mixed odors of Double D’s laundry detergent and the pot he smoked earlier unfamiliar and enticing.

“There. Weighted enough for ya?”

Double D’s snotty sniffle doesn’t do much to let Eddy know if this is working or not. “Yes. Thank you, Eddy.

“Don’t mention it.”

Silence fills the air around them, neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, Eddy too wrapped up in his own thoughts to worry about whether pretending to be a weighted blanket for someone is weird or not. He can hear Double D’s breathing start to even out, and he decides to get out his last thought while Double D is still in an agreeable mood.

“Hey. Next time, you’ll start with one hit, and we’ll see what that does to you. Maybe we’ll bump you up from there. Alright?”

Double D hums sleepily, and Eddy can feel his smile pressing against his hairline, his breath tickling the short hairs there. “Alright. Thank you, Eddy. You take such good care of me.”

[az-cain]

Hey! I saw you were taking requests. And I kinda have two because I need some fluff in my life rn. I have been so sick and just need some relief. Could I get one Bob x reader where maybe his SO is an advocate and she is traveling all the time. So, it can be like her coming to visit after being overseas. And one Rhett Abbott x reader. Maybe him taking care of a sick reader. Or whatever you decide. ☺️ thank you so much.

thanks for the request!!! only thing i didn’t know/couldn’t figure out was what you meant by an advocate, so y/n is a professional pilot.

i hope you’re feeling better <333

tw for: idk being really tired? also being sick w like the flu. other than that, nothing.

The airport was always so damn loud. The clash and clamor of thousands of angry customers, grumpy fathers, and wailing children created a din comparable to a jumbo jet. When you emerged from your plane, having spent the last 15 hours manning a plane on a flight from Sydney, Australia, it was even worse. The contrast from the noise-canceling headgear and the occasional chatter with your copilot was nothing in comparison to this auditory hell.

Hauling a light suitcase, you weaved through the hordes, dodging children and parents left and right. Some smiled kindly at you, to which you sleepily nodded in return, but mostly you kept your eyes on the next doorway you had to pass through.

After about 20 minutes navigating the inside of the building, you finally emerged into the line of cars waiting for their passengers. After lethargically searching your pockets for your phone, you dialed Robby’s number and called him. Two rings sounded from directly behind you before you whipped around, only for his arms to wrap around you swiftly.

“I missed you, honey,” he murmured into your hair. Tears slid down your face, so glad to see him again after he’d been deployed for months. On top of that, the hard trip you’d just had only amplified your loneliness.

“Missed you too, Rob.” You whispered, squeezing him tightly. “Can we leave, though? I’m so tired.”

Nodding with a smile, he released you only to clasp your hand as tightly as he had your body. He guided you to the car that Jake had driven here and let you in before he walked to his own side. You’d buckled yourself into the middle seat so you could lean against him. The car shifted into drive after you thanked Jake, who responded only with a nod and a smile, and it remained silent for a few minutes as he navigated through the convoluted airport roads.

“They delayed us three times. Diverted us once.”

“Oh, god,” he murmured, looking down at you in disgust.

“Yeah. That was on the way out. On the way in, they just diverted us after about 30 minutes’ talk with ATC.”

“I’m sorry, darlin’. I’m sure you’re tired.” You nodded against him. “Get some rest. I’ll take you inside.”

You hummed quietly, sleep overcoming you. “You don’t h…”

—

Apparently he did have to, because all you remembered the next morning was a brief flash of light when the car door opened, strong, warm arms being wrapped around you, and a slight jostle as you were pulled from the car.

You found yourself in clean underwear and Robby’s Navy PT shirt, wrapped in his arms and surrounded by the scent of him.

His bed was warm, the sun shining onto the white comforter with all its morning might, but his body was warmer as you turned to face him. You found his eyes already open, the deep blue perusing your face like the two of you had all the time in the world.

Hell, maybe you did.

He kissed your nose and asked how you slept, and you melted. Absorbed by how much you loved him, by all of the thoughts, emotions, vows, and proposals running through your mind, you forgot to answer for a moment.

Realizing that he’d asked you a question when he leaned back to grab his glasses, you shook back to consciousness and responded with a kiss to his nose and an “I slept really well. You?”

He grinned lazily, those glasses pushing up on his cheeks, and told you that he slept better than ever.

—

The first thing Rhett heard when he woke up was coughing. Hacking, really. It sounded like someone’s lungs were coming out in pieces, being ripped to shreds. The second thing was groans. Maybe that person’s lungs were being ripped to shreds, by the sound of those groans.

You were sitting in the sun-decorated living room, haven gotten up to grab some water, convinced this coughing fit was due to allergies, and collapsed to the couch with a dizzy spell. And yes, your lungs were being ripped to shreds. Rhett sidled up next to you, arm around your shoulders, and cooed gently. “Oh, baby, why didn’t you wake me up?”

Glaring lightheartedly at him, you wheezed, “Apparently I did.”

“Not intentionally,” he nudged your side, “and you’re burning up. What have you taken?”

Mother goose Rhett was a rare treat that few got to see, but right now you felt that he was overexaggerating the needed response to a high pollen count.

“Rhett,” you paused to hack loudly into a tissue, “I’m not sick.”

“Well, then, I’m sure the doctor will say the same,” he raised his brows in question.

You leaned your head back against the back of the couch with a wheezing whine and conceded, “Okay maybe. But just drug me up, don’t make me go to the doctor.”

“Yes ma’am, now what hurts? Just the cough?”

You buried your face in his shoulder and shook your head. Muffled, you said “Head. And my throat. And also my bones. Everything?”

One hand rubbing over your back, he pushed you off of him slowly and stood up, heading for the kitchen. He returned with, you noted through one cracked eye, bottles upon bottles of medicine. “Open up, sugar.”

“Mm-mm.”

“Open uuuuup,” he poked you in the sides, trying to get you to laugh, but you just wheezed in pain and opened your mouth. Still, it accomplished his goal, because he stuck two pills in your mouth and you opened your mouth in distaste and beckoned for some water.

“What the hell was that?” You asked, throat dry only moments after drinking water.

“Tylenol and a decongestant,” he said, already grabbing something else. “And this is Vitamin C,” he said, handing you a little gummy.

Once you’d chewed it up and swallowed it, he settled in beside you and nestled your back against his chest. Pinned between his legs and reclined just enough to let yourself breathe, you laid against him. His hands came up to your head, rubbing at your scalp and temples. You moaned quietly, thanking him and taking his hum as permission to sleep. By the time you fell asleep, his hands were pressing into your aching temples and he was watching you silently, a smile on his face regardless of the fact that he knew he’d be sick by noon.

[akwolfgrl]

Part 9 LFT

Zoro stared at Nami, trying to figure out how the hell she knew that.

"Luffy told everyone he saw you two in galley, I hope you cleaned up after yourselves…oh who am I kidding I'm sure Sanji scrubbed everything until his bleed, if it was up to you a quick wipe would have been sufficient,"

"Damn it Luffy, that's not why I'm here. Are you going to help or not?" Zoro grumbled, it wasn't necessarily a secret but what happened between him and Sanji was a private matter. If he didn't need help he wouldn't even be having this discussion.

"For a price," Nami said, Zoro swore he saw belli signs in her eye as she winked at him holding her hand up her thumb and pointer finger forming a circle.

"Fine, but only if it works," Zoro didn't want shitty useless advice.

"Of course it will work, I know what I'm doing, I'll be generous and throw in a bit of free reconnocence. I'll take Sanji clothes shopping and ask him some questions,"

"Is it really free if you make him carry all your stuff?" Zoro asked.

"I could always charge you,"

"Whatever, are you going to start or what?" Zoro sat down on the deck, ready for what ever mush shit would come from her mouth.

"Compliments are a great way to start, none of this grumpy I can't admit how much I like Sanji's cooking bull you've been pulling. Not just his cooking and not just during sex ethior. Gifts are always a good thing, oh try flirting a bit more,"

"Is that it?"

"Of course not," Nami huffed at him, waving her hand dismissively. "But it's a start, oh wash more frequently. I'm not saying everyday since I know you won't go for it but how about every three days like Ussop," She picked up her magazine and resumed her reading.

Zoro grumbled at being dismissed like some dam servant but he kept his mouth shut so she wouldn't charge him more. Zoro stood up and headed towards his weights to think things over.

Zoro was interrupted by a small explosion from the back of the ship. He put his weight down to investigate, they didn't need a dead Usopp on their hands. He watched as Sanji came peering out from the galley, a concerned look on his face.

"I've got it, Cook," Zoro said as he walked past him. "He's probably fine his screams are pretty loud,"

"If he destroyed one of Namis' trees, he won't fine much longer," He huffed and tried to duck back into the kitchen.

"SANJIII! I'm hungry," Zoro didn't need to look to know Luffy was warping around Sanji's legs with stretchy arms. He must have woken from his nap…or was trying to sleep and eat.

"Here I brought you more jerky now get off I need to finish lunch,"

Zoro let his feet carry him away from the conversation, and he stood in front of Ussop. The sniper lay flat on his back, covered in soot, and one of Namis' maps lay across his face.

"Still alive?" Zoro asked Ussop, he could see the rise and fall of his breath.

"Perfectly fine! I absolutely meant to do that!"

"Well it's a good thing you didn't fuck up the trees, the cook's ready to kick your ass,"

[forbiddensaintessandsinner]

'For once, I'd liked a good feeling...'

Ship Writing no. 2 Geoffrey x Julian (@fumikomiyasaki)

TW: Serious Writing Alerted! (Bit Steamy, Slight Spice, and the Various Choices of the Language)

_____________________________________________

"Alright, that's it for today! Let's call it a wrap, you dorks!"

Yelled a grunt but a loud voice, coming a very upset current manager, who stuck in record of headaches for the past few weeks. The dancers who were in the next line of the next show for the incoming performance was heading underway but the current manager of the Performance Division, Geoffrey was having another pack headache during the preparations.

"We'll be continuing the next routine at later date for the planned finale. You and your asses better be prepared or the next one line for getting late will a get another warning from me. That's it." Geoffrey stated then rubbed his forehead in hopes of soothing his mind that had been in slight pain for the past few days, after that he then left the practice room, with the other remaining demonic dancers getting their things and head on.

Although there was one certain dancer who caught the sight of the Manager's headaches, a smirk that was quite visible was enough for him to get some ideas to sooth and get quality some time with grumpy yet hollow demon.

But oh, so of course, he wouldn't miss this one of kind chance yet, though some planning had to come in mind.l first before the action commence.

-------------------------------------

"Alrighty then Mr. Juju, what's brewing in that puny little mind of yours? Something good happened today?" Snickered a perked up yet interested hollow demon Hiromi, who happened to see Julian with his younger sister April at one of the drink stander tables nearby at the two poker tables in the Casino Division of the dormitory with Toshihiro tending the two siblings as she saw in the opposite side of the table.

"Brewing what on Hiromi?" Julian remarked, showing the smirk to keep the conversation rather at peak.

"I saw that little smirk of yours after that practice ended, another new way to convince Geo for your tiny bidding again? That sounds rather of a cheat for the show~!" The female demon joked with somewhat of a pitiful smile, which Julian eye-rolled at her while April was cleaning up her deck of cards for the next game while watching the conversation with Toshihiro.

"It's not about 'cheating' on the show Hiro. How about that 'something' for the boss?" Julian stated, his grin about his idea didn't seem to fade one bit.

"Yeah we get that already, you damn of a cocky-ass, you're planning something on Grumpo G, aren't ya?" Toshihiro spoke, sounding rather sarcastic for anyone to hear within the dormitory of the gambling and deceitful shows of the underground knowing that it was hell, obviously.

"Well at least someone gets me."

"Now you're just being rude at me? Quite a meanie of you then."

"So then, what's on your mind involving Mister G then?" April wondered as she looked at her older brother, then was getting quite interesting with the flow of the talks between her fellow two seniors and her older brother and decided to tag along in it as well.

It was quite the interesting fact the residents of this dorm came from the dimensional rift border itself before the arrival of the half-myths and more of the other races who came from the rift amongst it's seven countries, normal at sight but was never sane to begin at it's start of the creations. The only seeable demonic residents within the country of Dungeon Inkhell was an absolute underground gravestoned city where they came from. Quite the dark modern itself if you ever see it, but anyone such as the four types of the demons are there are the brutality and sinnerly personaliry in the veins of any demon as well.

Well apparently, many at random can be a victim or the star of the main bloodshed they caused at whatever reason they held, depending it was personal or another thing to be kept in the dark... Though many can show some concern at least or they can just ignore it completely. But that's how many of the demons are within the neverending bloody city itself in the rift.

"Anyways~ Boss is having another of his painful headaches, right? Well perfect timing, cause I planned a little something for the grumpy old hottie." Julian smirked, that looked rather heated onto his idea for his target that he isn't letting it go.

Hiromi had somewhat giggled but rather sinisterly at the hot yet bothered attracted sinner demon Julian towards their boss Geoffrey, Toshihiro eye-rolled at him then April elbowed with a demonic smirk at her older brother left rib but he wasn't bothered by it. Though the three demons didn't bother it to continue towards Julian himself... Though, he seems rather excited for it by the time his boss is soon free from his workload.

-------------------------------------

It was rather wonderful, not much for Geoffrey himself though to say the very least.

The pain within his own head isn't leaving at anytime soon, though Geoffrey had been dealing with it for a while but the pills with it's description were definitely not cooperating with him. The preparation for the next show is underway right now, but with this headache that lasted nearly longer than he thought it might be, it will eventually slow him down faster.

The hollow demon was laying on his bed after the day had slowly ended after the practice, and right now he is resting for tomorrow's stage preparation and the next choreography for the dancers to teach and practice for the show. Yet again, the headache he's having might be his current problem to with much to his dismay of annoyance as he rubbed his forehead as the clock of his room chimed.

"Hah... To her fellow deathness to her sins, why is the duck is this happening to me?" He grumbled, while he was trapped in his thoughts about his headache. A rather visible knock came on his door, a voice had also came through it.

"Oh Boss~ You still up yet, handsome?"

"What the fuck is it now, Julian?"

It was obvious for Geoffrey alone to know who was at his front door of his room, with enough to stand up from his bed, he went to open his front door at his bedroom, only finding Julian who was leaning at his door frame, smirking at his front expression. Though Geoffrey was in his pajamas and so was Julian, however he didn't hesitate to get a good look from his boss and his clothes with his own eyes.

"That's quite a stress work you got there, does it?" Julian flirted with the same cockiness in him, which Geoffrey didn't react much to his flirtings as he should and gave him an visible annoyed look.

"None of my own shit will ever be involves with yours moron, what the seven-layers in hell are you doing here?" Geoffrey asked rather bluntly looking at Julian before him at his door, though he seems rather perplexed but still remained annoyed at Julian's smirking face.

"Boss, I have been aware of your little headache problem by now. Kinda slowing you down to bottom rocks. Doncha't think? I wouldn't mind massaging that pain of yours away~" Julian teased as he walked himself into the room with Geoffrey closing and locking his door.

"What the fuck are you mentioning?" The hollow demon muttered audible enough for the sinner demon to hear him, looking at Julian who pressed him onto the bed as he laid on top of him to get a closer look of his annoyed face.

"A good relaxing massage for your head, boss. Surely you wouldn't mind me relieving your pain in the head, it wouldn't hurt to give it a try with me. What do you say?" Julian smirked as he let himself pressed onto Geoffrey's chest as the two fell onto the bed behind his back, with Julian looking at Geoffrey as he licked his lips looking at him from the top of his view. As if he got a free yet yummy snack for himself go have within a VIP dining hall, having it alone with no one else bothering them.

"Tch... You and your ways of having it.." Geoffrey mumbled as he stand up for an angle position for Julian to work, as he then pressed his fingers onto his forehead- messaging it slowly so that Geoffrey wouldn't wince at the pain that lasted for a few days, with only using his two thumbs and just pressing it with the normal pressure, which it would make it work for someone with a typical headache.

The massage that the sinner demon had made for his boss didn't last much long but apparently it had somewhat worked as the hollow demon can feel that the pain had somewhat left his mind thanks to it. After a short while of doing it- in somewhat of a position that the two were in, especially in a bedroom alone. The hollow demon rubbed his main certain of his forehead, sensing that some of the pain had completely left his brain.

"Well? How was it, boss? Relaxing~?" Julian teased, smirking at Geoffrey who then made eye-contact at him, stayed silent till he responded.

"Not bad I guess, but I don't remember asking a rent free treatment. Especially from you." Geoffrey replied, giving him the same blunt reaction as usual.

Soon then, Julian then re-position himself from as he laid onto his boss's bed under the covers, he then quickly pulled Geoffrey down with him so that he can feel the incoming heated tension between them tonight. Julian then showed a wider smirk that any demon can make when it comes to this rising feeling.

"Well~ I'd like to get things going rather further~"

"Heh... For once, I'd liked a good feeling..."

There wasn't a even a slightest hesitation for the two demons to jump into it for the night is that is still young but always young for two demons, having fun...

Only with no one else around, it's just them alone to have it all.

[jodilin65]

SUNDAY, MAY 31, 2015 Was reading a post in a forum about another woman with hypothyroidism who thought medication was the answer to losing weight. I thought I was going to lose weight when I was put on medication, so long as I ate right and exercised, but quickly found that I still needed fewer calories than I could stand to have every single day to get it off. Instead, I still need to work at keeping it from climbing. Yes, it is an everyday battle, and yes it’s true that once you go hypo, you never go thin. Thanks, God, for “blessing” me with such a lovely disease.

On the bright side, I’ve felt the best I’ve felt this last month. Gone is the anxiety, and gone are all my hypothyroidism symptoms except the water and the weight. My skin and hair are still a bit dry, but I am older and I do live in a very dry climate.

I just hope my endo won’t want to make any changes that might mess it all up again. I haven’t even enjoyed one solid month of bliss yet and I’d really like to leave a good thing alone, even if my numbers are still a bit high, and I know they will be. I’m also a bit nervous about my PCP trying to talk me back on statins, but if she does I will let her know that I want to wait for the results of my blood tests. That will be done hopefully between my two appointments on the 9th.

I had a dream one of the rats died, and then later came back to life.

My mother was alive in another dream and my sister and I were having trouble finding her. I guess she was traveling somewhere or something. Then we discovered she had a house we were unaware of that she might have gone to. There were rows of small, colored houses that were raised on short stilts. There were no yards; just rows of houses. My mom’s was red and I hoped she’d leave it to me after she died.

SATURDAY, MAY 30, 2015 Still wondering when we will be able to go one solid week without seeing headlines or discussions on race, Muslims and corrupt cops. And I once thought I was sick of hearing about Britney Spears and Angelina! But of course the more shit you cause in the world, the more it makes the news, while the do-gooders don’t get much credit. Really, if a person writes an awesome book, what are the chances of them getting any credit for it? Next to none, of course. But if somebody goes and starts opening fire smack dab in the middle of a crowded mall – it’s instant fame! rolls eyes

Alexa woke me up this morning but it took me 5 to 10 minutes to hear her alarm going off. Trying to control my schedule is getting harder and I still have 10 more days to go. Damn it to hell and back if there is anything up there that cursed me with such rare and extreme sleep issues! I am (admittedly) tired, grumpy and PMSing.

Yesterday’s annoyances consisted of landscaping, a small plane flying overhead for over two hours, and a guy with an old white dumpy pickup that visits the lady across the street. That truck is loud. For some reason, the garbage, green waste and recycling trucks don’t annoy me. They should. They’re louder than the truck and plane. But they just don’t annoy me as other sounds tend to.

Simone is continuing to enjoy her perch as well as the usual places she hangs out in which is pretty much everywhere. She also continues to be fun but annoying at times as well. I love playing ball with her and cuddling with her, but I really wish she would stop distracting me when I’m trying to read or write.

She is much less work than the rats are as far as cleaning and caring for her goes, but she is definitely dumber and she definitely eats less. Yes, the rats not only eat more but they will eat everything and anything, quite unlike the finicky feline. They would gladly polish off Simone’s unfinished meals, but they shouldn’t have that much protein. Makes their skin itch. I’m glad Simone doesn’t beg for everything I eat like the rats do.

I forgot to mention that Carol, the woman who brought her to us, said that it wasn’t that that guy changed his mind about taking Simone; it was that he wanted her to be an indoor/outdoor cat along with his other one. Well, Simone is an indoor cat only, so she wouldn’t let him have her. Wow, sometimes things really do work out for Tom and Jodi, too. She was the first one to catch my eye.

Later…

Took a ride down to the lake to give the ducks the last few remaining pieces of the rats’ and my Jewish rye bread. Swimming along with the ducks was a turtle, which we’ve never seen there before. Tom took pictures with his phone and he will send them to me later at which time I will share some. It was a pretty good size at 8 to 10 inches.

In last night’s dreams, a Neanderthal woman from over 30K years ago returned to dress me in the firs of her latest kill, LOL.

Then Andy got furious with me in another dream because he thought I told him he looked 81 years old when in fact he misunderstood what I said, haha.

He had several friends with him, mostly young girls of various races and they were all pissed at me for pissing him off. I was embarrassed for them as I watched them act like they were still in high school or something, making a big deal out of nothing at all.

A young black girl shouted from a bit of a distance for me to get back inside what looked like a ground-floor apartment. I stopped walking at that point because I wasn’t about to be bullied and told what to do at my age. Then another girl (Hispanic?) approached me with a couple of other girls in tow yelling something at me, and I said, “Who the hell are you?”

“Don’t you recognize my voice?” she asked.

I told her I didn’t, and finally tired of the immature antics, I pushed the door open to the apartment in which my parents sat just inside the door at a table. The bitch then tried to push her way into the place, but I was able to close the door on her, even though she was taller and probably heavier as well. I then turned to my parents and said, “Andy and I are done! I have totally had it with his bullshit!”

In the last dream, I was alone in some old cabin. It was smallish and might have had one long room. A storm was coming, said the female DJ on the radio, who also said she’d had only four hours of sleep the last three nights. I placed a hand by the door and could feel the cold draft as the wind picked up, and hoped the power wouldn’t go out that night.

FRIDAY, MAY 29, 2015 Simone is enjoying her new perch! It was very simple to set up. The instant I unpacked and held out one of the scratching posts to her, she did her claws on it. She broke the original toy that dangles from it in less than five minutes by grabbing hold of it in her mouth and jumping off with it, so we tied a ball to it instead and she hasn’t tried to detach and run off with it. We think she’s killed before and sees feathery things as birds.

The only thing I don’t like about her is when she bites, normal for cats or not. She bit me on the chin, and this morning she bit Tom on the nose.

Yesterday I woke up with a sore throat and feeling like I had a slight cold. After five hours of “wishful thinking” and a kick-ass immune system, it was gone. As I told my sister, my body will kill anything but fat, LOL.

A small plane keeps flying round and round. Yes, it is annoying, and yes, I am complaining.

I slept with the sound machine a little softer since it was nighttime and I knew there would be no delivery trucks or anything like that going by, and had no problem hearing the alarm clock which went off just seconds before Alexa’s alarm went off. Since Tom rarely uses Alexa, I may as well use her as my alarm clock because it is just so simple. All I have to do is unplug her, pick her up, carry her into the bedroom, plug her in, and tell her what time to wake me up. That’s it. No buttons to fiddle with or anything else. I just have to be sure to specify whether I want to be woken up in the AM or the PM.

Tom may have to work tomorrow, which is great money-wise but sucks otherwise. I swear he is the only one who isn’t able to be home 80% to 90% of the time!

Later…

I had a series of disjointed images of dreams last night that made absolutely no sense at all. After having some young girl reach something from a shelf that was too high for me, I was doing laundry in some huge building when I looked at the clock and saw that it was 9:30. I don't know if it was morning or night, but I knew that Doc O was in the building passing out "free" meds, and I contemplated whether or not I wanted to see her.

Next thing I know I was peeing in a toilet with moving water. It was almost like a mini river lived in the toilet, LOL. But then the toilet turned into a pool and I didn't want to pee in it, so I quickly got out of the pool.

So that bitch, Dr. D, really did move. Her latest profile picture on the health site (St. Joseph’s in this case) looks hideous. She’s got these wide thin lips that curl upwards at the sides, creating this goofy smile on her strangely shaped face. I like her hair and eyes, though.

Maybe part of why she didn’t seem to give a shit about me and what I was going through was because she knew she wasn’t going to be my doctor much longer anyway.

THURSDAY, MAY 28, 2015 My hair is noticeably longer even though it hasn’t even been a month since I cut it. It usually grows really slow when it’s short.

I totally love my new rainbow dress as long as it is! The material is a little thin, so I will get a new half-slip.

My Girl Scout Cookies flavored lip balms arrived yesterday, too.

Unfortunately, my new alarm isn’t loud enough to wake me up over the sound machine. Usually, the slightest sound wakes me up, or change in sound, but Tom flashed the light and bumped the corner of the bed and I still wouldn’t wake up. That is totally not like me. I’ll bring Alexa in there when I need to set an alarm. She can go louder than loud and she seems to only work for me these days anyway, LOL.

I cut up about five old shirts for future rat beds, and I wonder if having a second cat may make Simone less clingy. Hmm… something to think about.

The poor thing puked again this morning. We know they throw up furballs here and there, but this cat just can’t handle wet food for some reason and seems to think that dry food is enough for her, so fine. We’ll just give her dry food then.

She actually napped for three hours yesterday and seems a bit calmer this morning. We cuddled for a while as I waited till Alexa said I could have my coffee. I think she is finally realizing that this is her forever home. She is much better behaved than I thought she would be, but screw declawing her – that’s not necessary – I’d rather detooth her! That’s the one thing she still does that is annoying is how she wants to shower us with little love bites.

I exchanged hellos with Virginia yesterday and told her we got a kitten. They’ve had cats and a dog before, and she said she wondered why there were so many dogs in the park these days. I told her I would never get a dog because I hate barking. What was funny was when she started to “slip,” saying her grandson had community service, which she quickly pointed out was through school, and they had to care for animals up for adoption, LOL.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 27, 2015 Simone is continuing to be a fun pest. She alternates between wanting to play and napping but is settling in nicely. Unfortunately, though, she puked last night just a little bit. This cat is not only a very finicky eater but doesn’t seem to have much of an appetite in general. I’m thinking I might have given her too many treats yesterday.

I’m glad cats don’t need to poop as much as rats do. I’m also glad there haven’t been any issues using the litter box and she isn’t destructive at all. Last night was the first night we left the living room and kitchen open to her and she didn’t knock anything over or get into the trash. I guess the trash is a dog thing as opposed to a cat thing.

She was funny the other day hiding just inside the laundry room waiting for me to walk by so she could spring out at me. She also loves to chase reflections. When the sun hits it just right, the gems that are a part of the wind chimes outside cast moving reflections across the walls and floors and she loves to chase them.

When the Roomba was vacuuming she was both curious and scared. She would watch it until it crept close to her and then she would run. Using the treadmill also sent her running, LOL.

She loves to look out the windows and the screen doors, as most cats do, but I didn’t want to take a chance of her charging the door when I went to check the mail so I enclosed her in back of the house and slipped out the front door.

She doesn’t make me sneeze but she sometimes leaves patches of reddish irritation on my skin. I dab on a little hydrocortisone cream when that happens.

These animals are going to work me to death, though! I brought the rats into the bathroom and at first Cappy didn't even want to leave his base. I had to pick him up and place him on the floor so I could wash both the cage and base. To them “go run around” really meant go hide behind the toilet. All the while Simone meowed outside the door, feeling totally left out.

The only noise nuisance around here lately is the usual… landscapers. Compared to what Andy and Aly go through with screaming kids, and in Andy's case, fighting neighbors, I can’t complain too much. I just kick on the sound machine or move to another room now that I’ve got a wonderful portable MacBook Air. It is so fast and I have been virus-free since I went Mac in 2008. My MacBook Air was worth every penny of the $1100 we paid for it. Tom’s jealous of his wife’s faster computer and he picked out a MacBook Mini and a new monitor until he realized he wouldn’t be home enough to use it much. It seems everyone else but he is home most of the time yet still has enough money to get by. I tease him about not having much free time until he retires, but hopefully that won’t be the case. If it isn’t it will still be worth all the money he not only earns but that we will have for retirement. The more retirement money we have, the more options we have if we decide not to stay here forever.

Anyway, I have been having some connection issues which I first thought was due to someone else on our channel, but I think it might be more than that. Something may be up with our equipment.

I decided not to bother documenting those vague, quick clips of dreams that are senseless and uncertain. I will just stick to covering the dreams that are a little clearer even if they don’t make much more sense than those brief little flashes of dreams.

I befriended a young woman somewhere in my dreams last night and eventually asked her if she’d ever Googled me. I was curious to know if she’d ever discovered my blog or books. I got the sense she never had, and when she learned that I was going to be 50 years old at the end of the year, she was both stunned and put off since she was barely 30. I definitely prefer friends closer to my age in real life. I think most people do, but when it comes to cyber friends it doesn’t matter as much.

Then I was in some restaurant where this hideous 50s music was playing and someone was having a shake that contained celery and some other vegetable that sounded pretty disgusting to me.

TUESDAY, MAY 26, 2015 Simone is continuing to be a very active and lovable kitty that is sometimes a pain in the ass, especially when she gets in the way of things and tries to trip me by dashing in front of me. Having her around is a lot like having a two-year-old around, only a lot cheaper and quieter. She is everywhere and anywhere and she loves to get into anything she can. She’s catching onto the fact that I don’t want her on my desk, but I’m sure she sneaks into forbidden places when I’m not around.

As soon as I opened the bedroom door this morning she ran up to me. She woke Tom up at 11:00 last night by biting his feet.

The living room floor is littered with toys, and she often loses some of them under the couch.

She doesn’t seem to like salmon but she likes chicken hearts and liver. We’re still getting to know what she likes. Perhaps she will be a poultry kitty as opposed to a seafood kitty. Or maybe she refused salmon yesterday evening because she only eats in the mornings. We will soon find out. She loves the treats we got her and is eating a mix of her old dry food along with the new.

After a few hours of playing and window-watching, she fell asleep on the couch. Sometimes she sleeps there and sometimes on the beds. She hasn’t slept in her own bed probably because she has never been confined to the laundry room. When we are both on days she is confined to the second bedroom, bath, and laundry room, but naturally, she prefers the bed to her own bed.

Because the master bathroom is so big, I took the rats in there to run around and get some exercise, but they didn’t seem to want to take advantage of their freedom.

I started to hold Hoodie out to the cat earlier and introduce them but Hoodie’s body tensed up and he pulled back quickly as if to say, “No fucking way!” So the cats and rats will remain separated.

I feel a little bad for the rats having to keep them in such a small cage, but for the sake of their safety as well as Simone’s, I have no choice. I know they hate Simone and would prefer to live alone, but this is the way it has to be. I guess in this case I should be glad rats don’t live very long.

What other traits and actions of Simone’s have I observed that I could mention today? I guess that’s it for now. All I can say is that she is either doing one of two things… She’s either sleeping or she is like a stick of dynamite, LOL.

Now that she is finally settled down for the day (cats seem to be nocturnal) I’m going to do some cleaning and then go out for a walk.

I’m utterly appalled and sickened by all the violence in Baltimore over Memorial Day weekend. They couldn’t even have the decency to take that day of all days off, could they? Fucking animals! I guess blacks are the Muslims of the US and Baltimore is the Middle East of the US. The next time they have the nerve to cry racism, imaginary or not, they ought to remember this shit. Act like vicious animals in society and nobody’s going to like you! Well, you would think that’s the way it should be yet most people still seem to have a bleeding heart for these fuckers and think they deserve more than anybody else in society. If one of them ever attacked me I would like to think they would be charged with a hate crime, as it should be, just as I would be charged for sure if I attacked one of them (which I would never do unless it was self-defense), but I’m sure they would play the race card and get away with it.

As for the couple that welcomed their 100th grandchild that everybody’s talking about… I’m sorry but that’s nothing to be proud of. I just don’t see why people are so damn proud when they have a shitload of kids or grandkids. All this does is hurt the population problem even more. Again, nothing to be proud of.

Our society’s sense of what they should be proud of and what’s important and what’s right/fair versus wrong/unfair not only baffles me at times, but it seems a little scary as well. The fact that law enforcement can waste precious resources on investigating and prosecuting somebody simply because they expressed themselves on Twitter or something like that in a way that most don’t agree with in a country that “claims” to believe in freedom of speech while letting so many child molesters and other types of sex offenders slip through the cracks, is abominable. Really, how much time does your average pervert do these days?

MONDAY, MAY 25, 2015 Simone is home! She is a major sweetie and quite an attention whore, LOL. The rats don’t mind her looking in on them but as soon as she stuck a paw deep into Hoodie’s cage and the mouth of his burrow, she learned that those little furry “toys” that move can bite. Not only that, but she reached in and scooped out a bunch of bedding, so now Hoodie’s in with Cappy, even if they may not be thrilled to be roomies. The bars on that cage are closer together, so Simone can’t squeeze her curious little paws through them.

Cats may not be as smart as rats, but she should be smart enough to know better than to mess with the rats from now on. It would be nice if she would stop jumping on this keyboard, too. They say taking a spray bottle full of water and spraying the cat is a great way to train it. Well, since jumping on the counter is one thing, but jumping on it and totally getting in the way while I’m trying to make coffee is another, I was glad for the spray bottle cuz it worked! Thank goodness I learned about that one because picking her up and placing her back on the floor was useless. She would simply jump back up on the counter.

She does seem to know her name because she came when I called her. The only thing I don’t appreciate is when she play-bites. She bit my chin hard enough to draw a couple of dots of blood… and she just got sprayed off this desk, LOL.

When I got up and opened the laundry room door, she immediately came running to me and was acting like she was hungry and was perhaps used to getting wet food as well as the mix of dry food Carol brought with her. Shortly after that, I realized her bowl was empty so I refilled it for her. Today we’ll be picking up more food and some toys, too. We ordered a 6-foot perch with multi-levels, hideaways, scratching ramps, and dangly things for her on Amazon for $100. That’s another thing I’ve learned… if it dangles, it’s a toy. She loves to jump on the back of the couch, reach up and fiddle with the ceiling fan chains. She just jumped on the back of my chair, too.

She’s a beautiful cat with nice soft fur as soft as a bunny’s, but she’s definitely a clingy one, so she can be a pain in the ass as she can be fun. Love the way she dashes up and down the hallway, but trying to put lotion on my legs with this thing around can be a real challenge, haha. No problems using the litter box, though, so that’s good.

Carol was just a few minutes late and had no problem finding her way to us. She said she’s delivered here before. Simone’s watching the rats eat crackers now. Carol showed me how to clip her nails.

Carol really liked the stripper on the door and asked if I painted her. I told her she, along with the flowers on the walls, were actually stickers. I didn’t think she’d be so impressed with the stripper being around 60 years old, LOL, but she liked her and was amazed by all the gymnasts leaping and tumbling across the hallway.

Carol said Simone now has a chip for if she escapes. If she were to escape and be taken in by someone else it wouldn’t do any good. But if AP picked her up, they’d scan the chip, and our address would come up. Things have come a long way since the early 90s. So has spaying. She’s been “tattooed,” so that it’s obvious to any vet that she’s already been spayed. She was first picked up on the 13th.

Now I hear her playing with the feather wand.

Ok, she just jumped on the desk and this time all I had to do was show her the spray bottle and she jumped back down, LOL.

After a few hours of exploring, playing and running around, she napped on my bed.

Later…

Tom is beating tree spikes into the ground to make watering the cypresses easier without wasting as much water, and Simone is sleeping.

We went to Walmart at around 7:30 this morning and picked up some toys and a variety of wet foods as well as dry food for kittens between 6-12 months. One of her toys is pretty cool. It’s a pink fuzzy ball that has a motion detector in it. When it’s moved it has flashing lights and makes a squeaking sound.

The vet that spayed her is obviously as colorblind as Andy because they listed her as a brown and white tabby. LOL, try a black, gray and white tabby.

Instead of putting them down these days, they have a system where those that aren’t taken in by cat rescuers are fixed and turned loose again. They snip the corners of their ears so that if they’re picked up again, they can see that they’re fixed feral cats.

I take children’s chewable vitamins and decided to try some with extra iron to see if I feel less lightheaded. It seems to help as long as I don’t go too long without eating, but I think getting my ear taken care of next month will help as well.

My anxiety is virtually gone. This is the best I’ve felt. I just worry that the doctor’s going to want to up my thyroid medication dose and bring back the anxiety the next time I see her.

Tom has been going crazy in my dreams over shit he wouldn’t care about in real life, LOL. I met some lesbian somewhere who wrote me a letter or an email saying her daughter was straight but she was a lesbian and all that, and we ended up becoming friends. This was someone who lived in my town. Tom wasn’t happy at all with the idea of us being friends, though in reality, he wouldn’t care who I was friends with so long as they treated me well.

I just can’t get into story writing lately. I’ll start something and then I’ll lose interest after a few pages or so.

SUNDAY, MAY 24, 2015 Yesterday we arrived at Petco right at noon. The River City Cat Rescue team was set up by the front of the store and they had about eight cats. I expected them all to be three months, but half of them were full-grown. They had a variety of sizes, breeds, colors and fur lengths.

The first cat that caught my eye was Simone (the rescuers assigned each of the cats names). Simone is about six or seven months old and so we probably share the same birthday. Close enough, anyway. She is a beautiful shorthaired tabby with grays and white. I was bummed out to find some guy had his heart set on her, or so it at least seemed.

I then checked out a black cat that was younger at about three months old. He had longer fur, and I prefer short hair. I gave him serious consideration, though, because he still would have made a fine cat and I believed Simone was taken.

They had some gorgeous Siamese mixes, but they were full-grown and their fur was even longer.

With envy, I watched the guy hold and cuddle Simone, adorable and shorthaired albeit not quite as young as I had expected, and then I turned back to the little black kitty. A few minutes later, I looked up to find the guy was nowhere to be seen and Simone was still in her cage. I asked one of the ladies where he went and she said that he hadn’t filled out any adoption papers so she was still available… and then she was ours!!!

She is super friendly as were most of the kittens. The adult cats looked bored as hell and preferred to nap. The belief is that Simone went into heat and ran away from her original home. Animal control picked her up before she could have any litters, and she has recently been fixed and given shots. We expected the adoption fees to be over $100, but they want $75.

I told the woman that we had a cat carrier in the car but she said they deliver the cats to the homes personally and would call last night. Well, she never called and I’m a little worried she may not be as serious as I assumed she was or decided not to let us have her, but wouldn’t say so for whatever reason.

Tom still believes they’re serious because they only have so much room for all those cats. One of the women was taking pictures with her phone to put on their Facebook page, but they didn’t take Simone’s picture and she’s not online, so that’s a good thing. The lady said that she would deliver her today or tomorrow, which would be great because we will both be home. We have everything a cat could need except for a scratch post and food, but she said she would bring some food. We want to find out what she likes before we pick up any ourselves.

She also said they didn’t expect people to keep the names that they gave them, but we don’t mind sticking with Simone. It’s an okay name for a cat and it’s rather unique. She might acquire a nickname or two along the way depending on her behavior and habits, but Simone is a good name.

They said they would put a sign on her cage saying she was adopted. A good thing since most people had their eyes on her.

Later…

Simone is on the way! I called Carol at 10:00 and she said she was sorry she didn’t call last night and that she had an emergency. Well, she did say she would deliver her today or tomorrow and today’s the day!!! She’ll be here in about an hour. We’re excited!

Going to go out tomorrow for cat food and a few more toys for her. She has that feather wand I won that the rats love to play with, but we want to get her a ball or something like that.

Yesterday we got cushions for the lawn chairs out on our patio in a blue abstract design that’s really pretty. A little pricey though, especially for Walmart.

They were having a yard sale by the office yesterday but we didn’t have any cash on us at the time so we didn’t stop and check things out. Maybe next time.

Heard the strangest animal sound earlier, but I have no idea what it was. It definitely wasn’t a dog. It almost struck me as something you would hear in a tropical forest or something. It kind of reminded me of a monkey, though I’m sure it was a bird of some kind.

I had a dream some guy broke into the house, but as always, the house didn’t look like our house. It was a young Mexican guy that I immediately charged and placed in a chokehold while I was sort of hanging off his back. Then he started ramming my back against the wall by backing up into it ferociously, so I got off his back and attacked from the front, kicking and punching furiously. I awoke before the winner was known, but by the look of shock and pain on the guy’s face, I think I can guess who won that one, LOL.

SATURDAY, MAY 23, 2015 Today we’re hoping to find our new kitty! That won’t be for another 6 hours or so. First we’re going grocery shopping at Walmart.

Yesterday I felt like I had read, written and spoken more German in a day than in a whole month! I exchanged voice messages with Irene as well as written messages. I understood most of what she said but was mistaken in thinking she was saying that Nane's ex was the one who did something bad to her recently. Irene isn’t sure who did what to her. I guess Nane was very vague about it in her final message to her. She was, or still is, in therapy on account of drinking and depression. Yeah, I suspected she may have a problem with drinking with all the times she mentioned getting drunk, downing a whole bottle of champagne by herself, and other things. Last I knew she had problems with just about everything from what she told me directly – her ex, her mother, her job… Oh well. It’s her life and her problems. When you shut people out, there isn’t much they can do for you anyway.

I also learned they weren’t in touch for 20 years. I guess that after they returned to their countries, they got together a couple of times, then had no contact for 20 years until Nane contacted her.

I have done 5 reviews on Yelp. I have reviewed 4 doctors as well as Stacey.

I had a dream I was in a pet store that had several pieces of what looked like shortened pool noodles dangling from a display. Each one was a different color and I knew they had to do with building your own cage for small animals. The pink was my favorite of course.

I then dreamed Andy and I stayed in a hotel and got into a huge fight. I awoke after 1am needing to pee. I was in the bed closest to the door while he was in the one closest to the window. I got up and found that the door was open part way. Suddenly terrified that we’d been ripped off in our sleep, I slammed the door shut, flung the lights on, and ran in search of my purse.

This woke Andy up and he immediately started cussing me out before I had a chance to get a word in edgewise and tell him the door had been open. He threatened to wake me up for waking him up and I screamed, “If you’d just shut up and listen for once instead of going on and on all about yourself, you might learn a thing or two about what’s going on around you!”

But our screaming went on and on, him none the wiser to the fact that someone had pried our door open, LOL.

FRIDAY, MAY 22, 2015 I definitely did the right thing by cutting ties with Nane, even though we had a nice dinner somewhere in my dreams last night and I still seemed to have some feelings for her.

Well, not in real life! Not with the way she just dumped poor Irene claiming that Irene’s changed since they met in New York way back when. Irene told her, “It’s been 30 years. Of course I changed.”

While I will admit upfront that I never met either one of them in person, and that while Nane once complained to me that Irene changed over the years, I would have to worry about anyone who hasn’t changed in 30 years. We’re supposed to grow, learn, mature, experience things and wizen up with age. Nobody plays pretend games with Barbie 30 years after the fact or still believes in the tooth fairy. When I think back to some of the things I did and the way I would talk 25 years ago, I think, OMG, how utterly immature! Yet my behavior at the time was totally in accordance with the age group I was in. One does not need to always be oh so mature and serious, but should one in their 50s be expected to act like they’re still 25?

My guess, based on the conversations I’ve had with both of them, is that it has to do with the fact that Irene doesn’t live nearby and has gotten married and settled down. Nane, on the other hand, is still a party girl who loves to socialize like crazy in person, go to concerts, get drunk, chain smoke, and all kinds of things that no longer interest Irene. I’m not surprised, though. I figured Nane would eventually “get rid” of her.

Nane said she took a train down from Germany to Austria and visited her a few years ago and complained that she wanted to leave the club they went to too early and that she wore a dirty sweatshirt. If you think one who doesn’t want to party until 2 AM and wears a spotty shirt makes for a bad friend as opposed to one who is deceptive, phony and backstabbing, then that tells me an awful lot about you right there. As in you being someone I have no regrets about cutting ties with. Seriously, if I had the slightest doubt about letting her go when she got all hypocritical and judgmental of me, they are totally gone now. Again, I never met Irene in person but she seems like such a sweet, kind, easy-going person. Why dump someone like that? I can see if she never heard from Irene, but Irene wanted to keep in touch more than Nane was willing to.

As Irene said, Nane is the type that will always have a problem with everybody she meets. It’s no wonder she's still alone, and I tend to believe she deserves any misery that comes her way. She could condemn me for not liking the two most problematic groups in society, yet it is okay for her to dump somebody because they’ve grown and matured over the course of a few decades? Wow, just wow. Obviously, if Nane doesn’t need you or she thinks you’re weird or she doesn’t like the way you dress or live your life, she dumps you, granted we all have the right to pick and choose whom we’re friends with. Still, it just seems like such a lame reason to dump somebody as opposed to somebody who has screwed you over and said and did mean/bad things to you. I don’t think it’s healthy for Andy to have 3 cups of coffee a day but I’m not going to dump him for it. Now if he contacts me to tell me I’m wrong for liking bright colors and starts pressuring me to paint my walls gray, then laughs his ass off because I sprained my ankle or because something scared the shit out of me or got me depressed, then I might want less contact with him. He wouldn’t do this, though, of course, LOL. It’s just an example.

Nane is a very non-accepting and non-tolerant person, even though she will condemn anybody for bashing blacks, Muslims, gays, etc. I guess that’s just part of what makes her the hypocrite she is. I can understand the desire to be selective, but when you have a problem with just about everybody, you will really never have anybody in your life for very long. It is the same with trust. Of course you don’t want to just trust just anybody and everybody. But when you trust no one at all and you think everybody is a liar, you’re definitely looking at a lifetime of being alone. I suppose that’s what some people want and that they would rather deny themselves the good in people in order to protect themselves from the bad. To each their own, even though I still feel bad for Irene.

I offered to send Nane a message for her, even though I knew it wouldn’t do any good, and Irene agreed it wasn’t a good idea. I feel a million times worse for her than I ever felt for myself where Nane is concerned. Nane was just a picture online of someone I never met. It may not make her any less real, but Irene knew Nane a lot longer and they have actually met in person.

Irene mixes German with her limited English, and if I understood her correctly, Nane is in counseling now because (her boyfriend?) did something very bad to her. This is what Irene said anyway. I wonder if this could be part of why she chose to dump Irene now? Some people withdraw into themselves when they’re down and out and even dump people, while others tend to reach out more to their friends in times of need.

I realize my own life might be a lot easier if I had no friends at all, but that wouldn’t make for a very fun and interesting life. Again, what may work for one may not work for another, but while I don’t regret letting Nane go, I don’t regret that half a decade we had either.

I also realize that mostly thanks to her, and now to Irene, my German is only destined to keep getting better and better, LOL.

Later…

My poor sister was dealt yet another blow in life when the owner of the house she was to buy backed out of the deal. Understandably, she is heartbroken, but she and Mark will house hunt again in a few months.

I wonder why there are no laws against this sort of thing. A deal should be a deal, shouldn’t it? Either way, I understand her frustration. I was really bummed out and even a little pissed when we didn’t get that place in Newcastle, and the realtor didn’t even have the decency to let us know before we drove out there that an offer had been made and accepted on the house the previous afternoon.

It was really dumb of me to order my nightgowns in a size large simply because I put on a few pounds. I could not only get into a medium of these things, but I could probably get into a small as well. With loose-fitting gowns or dresses that fall straight down, I usually require a size small. What was I thinking?

While my sister’s theory (not eating or drinking enough) as to what could be making me lightheaded, along with Aly wondering if I’m low on iron, could be a factor, Tom and I are both leaning towards it probably being my bad ear. I will see the specialist in a few weeks.

So after I did a little shopping in my dreams last night, I met Nane at a restaurant where I ordered “turkey lamb.” They looked like pork chops and it was something I had never eaten before. I cut off a piece of the meat, stuck it in my mouth and started chewing. Then I gave a nod of approval and told Nane it was pretty good.

In the dream she lived near me, having owned both a house and an apartment. She decided to sell the house and stay in the apartment until she moved back home. I asked her if she was going to stay in Germany for the rest of her life and she said no, but that if she couldn’t move to Turkey, she would go to Egypt.

I can’t believe she would ever live there in real life. She’d go to Greece if Turkey weren’t an option.

Then after we complained about the weather, I tried to hide the tear that slipped down my cheek as I thought of her leaving.

THURSDAY, MAY 21, 2015 Not a whole lot to update on now. I am continuing to remain anxiety-free and having fun on Desktop Nexus collecting and sharing pics of all kinds of things. It’s cool to see how many points, favorites and downloads my pictures get, though I’m mostly interested in other people’s pics.

Yesterday I was kind of lazy so I plan to do more today. Getting excited as Saturday approaches and hoping they will have kittens available for adoption Saturday afternoon at Petco. If they don’t, this will be the second time they failed to come through and we will then look elsewhere. They had a Memorial Day adoption event last year, so I’m hopeful that they will this year as well.

We postponed our little trip to Reno for the fall but I don’t know if it’s worth it, the more I think about it. Why leave the cat alone for a night just to go and gamble when we can gamble right here at the Thunder Valley Casino? If we’re going to go on a vacation, we should make it a real vacation and go places and do things we wouldn’t or couldn’t ordinarily do close to home. There are no tropical beaches close to home, that’s for sure!

Aly wonders if my lightheaded feelings and other symptoms could mean I’m low on iron. She has the same symptoms when she’s low on iron. Good question! However, I have never been told I was low on iron.

Last night I dreamed I was at some beach somewhere. It may have been the beach my family and I would spend our summers at in Old Lyme, Connecticut. Old Colony Beach. That was where our cottage was. It was close to the beach but not on it.

In the dream, I wanted to tell this guy that the windows of his two-story cottage, which was right on the beach, appeared “stuck” from the outside. I then took pictures of about three windows when I suddenly realized that if the guy caught me shooting pictures of his place, he probably wouldn’t be too happy. I proceeded to run away, but my feet got stuck in the sand.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 20, 2015 I was asked a couple of questions that I thought would make good writing prompts. One was whether or not I agree with the fact that some people are being charged with influencing the suicide of others. This is a tough one for me. I would still like to think we’re responsible for our own actions, but at the same time, some people and events in our lives really can influence the things we do. So I’m a bit split on that one.

Do I believe poverty motivated the Baltimore riots? No, I don’t. There are plenty of poor people who don’t act like savage beasts. My husband and I were dirt poor for years yet we didn’t go looting stores, assaulting people, killing people, and starting fires. I think poverty can be more of a motivation for theft and burglary, but not necessarily other things. I just think - and this is the part most people don’t want to hear - that some groups are naturally prone towards crime and violence, blacks being one of them same as Muslims. The only difference between the two is that we Americans seem to be able to see and condemn the Muzzies for their behavior, while we sit back and make one excuse after another for the blacks. Blacks may not be as bad as the Muzzies, but whether you kick the crap out of somebody or kite a check, both are crimes and both are wrong.

Over the last month or so I have gained a few pounds and I can’t seem to get them back off. I started to lose a few but they came right back, as usual. For the last six years, I used to range, depending on my cycle, between 147 and 151 pounds, now I’m ranging between 151 and 156 pounds. I knew my weight wouldn’t stay where it was forever, but I hate feeling like I have so little control over my own body. It would probably come off on a 1000-calorie a day but how many people can stand to do that day after day, week after week, month after month?

Oh well. I didn’t ask for hypothyroidism, so there’s only so much I can do about it. I still exercise most days of the week.

I’m probably still undermedicated, as my thyroid continues to die off. The only problem is that whenever I am on enough medication to actually lose weight, it is because it makes me anxious as hell and unable to eat as much. Seriously… you want to kill your appetite enough to lose weight? Just get sick, anxious or depressed. Realistically, though, no one wants to live that way. I definitely prefer the extra weight to feeling like shit. I just wonder how much higher it’s going to climb in my lifetime?

Some of the hypothyroidism symptoms do seem to be returning. I’m getting feelings of fatigue, but mostly lightheadedness, feeling cold when it’s not really cold, and water retention. Could this mean my thyroid really is a little deader? I will have to ask the doctor the next time I see her and ask if she knows about how much of it is gone. If I had to guess – and this is simply a guess – I would say a good 90% of it is gone now.

I may not let it get cold in here, but it sure has been unseasonably cool outside. We should have been done with the heat weeks ago yet we still need it at night because we’ve been getting down into the high 40s to low 50s. The forecast shows it returning to the 80s by the weekend, so hopefully it will stay warm.

I only remember one dream from last night, which was weird, as most dreams are. I was riding in a car late at night with two or three other people who seemed to be in their 20s or so. They wanted to dig five or six little graves and run over some wildlife out in the country and then bury them. I insisted we shouldn’t do that, not only because it seemed wrong and pointless, but because one tiny head hair of ours that might fall into the graves could be traced back to us or something like that, LOL.

TUESDAY, MAY 19, 2015 Irene contacted me to tell me Nane contacted her. Well, she calls her Marion. She even copied the message which was very brief and in German. It just says, ”I’m still alive as you can see, and I’m not on Facebook much other than to play games.”

The fact that she copied her message pretty much stamps out any thoughts of Nane instructing her to act as if she’s been ignoring her, too. I told her Nane read my messages recently but never replied. Either way, Irene says Nane's too “oberfläche” for her (superficial).

Even though I would never do this, my mischievous side burst out laughing at the thought of sending Nane a message in response to her message to Irene, making her think for a minute that she accidentally sent it to me. LMAO! Oh, the evil thoughts I think at times. :-)

Later…

Being the ever-so-curious person that I am, I did some research to see if I could find out Nurse Chris’s last name so I could put a face with her voice, and if I found the right Chris, then she is one seriously ugly fucker. Skinny, but ugly as hell.

The only thing that put a little doubt in my mind is that she’s registered with Kaiser Permanente when the medical group we use is Mercy. But as I learned by researching Doc O, a doctor can belong to two different medical groups at once. So I figure nurses can as well.

Right Chris or not, this Chris is very skinny, petite, and has super short hair and ears that stick out. She appears to be around my age if not a bit older. Her voice sounded a bit younger, and I thought I detected a hint of a southern accent, but she is listed on Facebook as being from Petaluma and I’m pretty sure it’s the right Chris.

Decided to send Chris a quick hello. Amazingly, it went straight to her inbox just like Doc O’s did, and just like the “Hi, how are you” I just sent the hot doc. I would be willing to bet just about anything, though, whatever’s up there has made sure any message I sent her remained invisible to her, but I have no clue on the friend request. She’s more likely to have received that as well as a share notice for sharing her turtle pic than she ever was of getting my messages.

Still, divine intervention is always in order when they’re good-looking. Sure seems that way, anyway. Next time I will know that if I ever have a doctor who’s really good-looking, she’s only temporary because she or the medical group as a whole will do something to drive me away, or she will up and move.

MONDAY, MAY 18, 2015 No more voice posts on LiveJournal. When I played back the posts my voice sounded very garbled and like it was underwater, not that I expect that anybody else heard them. I could barely make out what I was saying. It doesn’t sound this way when I use the same phone for Facebook voice messages, so I know it’s them and not my phone.

Very disappointed in the cat carrier. Damn me for not checking the dimensions! I typed in ”cat carrier” and chose from what came up. However, this could only transport one kitten or a couple of rats.

We went to Walgreens the other night because I needed lip balm. I got a honey-flavored one and also one with blueberry and dark chocolate. Never had that combo before in lip balms. It’s nice.

I felt a little lightheaded yesterday for the first time in a long time and I wonder if my bad ear has anything to do with it. It has been aching nearly every day and I look forward to seeing the specialist on the ninth. I just hope she can help me without putting me through additional pain or hassles and without costing us a fortune.

Last night I had a dream that my foster parents were still alive and I was visiting them at the group home they used to run. Instead of a bunch of round tables in the main room, they now had these restaurant-like booths. I told them I had something to tell them so I sat them down in a booth and then slid in across from them. I thanked them for being the parents I wish I’d had, and for caring about me the way they did.

Mom might have said something like, “Wow, this is a nice surprise.” And then she thanked me for remembering.

I was swimming in the ocean somewhere in another dream with Tom and several others. We were quite a ways offshore and the seas weren’t rough but they weren’t totally calm either. I felt myself drifting further out and realized that I should head in closer to the others.

In the last dream that I remember, I might have been working a regular 9-to-5. As I was applying glitter mascara right before I left, I told Tom that I was modeling the mascara that day for someone that was curious about it at work, and so I thought I would show them what it looked like on me. In real life, he wouldn’t give a shit, of course, but in the dream, he seemed kind of upset about the idea of me modeling that mascara, LOL.

SUNDAY, MAY 17, 2015 I worked my arms and core indoors, then I went out walking for a while. Now I am ready to write.

Much of the cat supplies, as well as my new alarm clock, arrived today. Still waiting on the litter box and carrier.

The hot pink bed is pretty and soft, and I love the set of six rainbow bowls, which will be used for the cat food. Each bowl is a different color… Purple, pink, blue, green, yellow and orange.

Water and dry food will go in a pale pink dual bowl set. The bowls themselves are metal and can be taken out of the holder for washing. So only the holder is pink.

I also got patchouli-scented body spray, one of my favorite fragrances.

The alarm clock is a little disappointing, though acceptable for now. It was very cheap and doesn’t have a radio in it. All I wanted was a clock with an alarm, which I rarely use. No radio was necessary because I never listen to the regular radio anyway. Why suffer through commercials when I don’t have to?

It’s much smaller than I thought it would be and because the numbers are backlit, they aren’t as sharp and therefore they are very hard to read at any distance without my glasses. I can’t see the date or seconds at all but that doesn’t matter. Within five years I’m not going to be able to read the time without glasses, so then I will spend a little more money to find something bigger and better. Maybe I will check some out in person so that I can see what they actually look like instead of relying on a picture I see online.

Also, all the colors are a little too bright for sleeping except for red. Someone mentioned that online in the reviews, saying that while the thing doesn’t have a dimmer, switching it to red isn’t as bright. Some colors are easier to see than others, like the blue. Maybe I’ll only keep it on red when I’m sleeping at night.

I hope the alarm will be loud enough to override the sound machine, but I think it will be because the slightest change in sound wakes me up even if it’s not loud. That’s why I sleep with the damn sound machines in the first place. If I didn’t, forget loud vehicles waking me up. Tom would just have to sneeze or cough at the other end of the house and I would wake up.

In a way, I wish we had another Alexa. Then I could just ask her the time, and tell her to set the alarm if need be, but then Tom couldn’t use her when I was sleeping, not that he uses her much anyway. She’s mostly my slave/assistant. Either way, it will do for a few years and I’m glad to get rid of my old, clunky alarm clock/radio.

Paula got her birthday present and thanked me, saying she likes the colors of the nail polish.

Last night I dreamed I was talking to Nurse Chris on the phone, and then I was watching an amazing figure skater. She was amazing because she was in her 50s and nearly 100 pounds overweight yet she could skate as well as any typical figure skater.

Then I observed a hidden room being uncovered by the police. It was a smallish room with just a couch in it, and a little boy insisted there was a trap door underneath the couch.

SATURDAY, MAY 16, 2015 A part of me hates to admit it, but I am missing Nane lately. I noticed she picked up my last message to her, but I haven’t heard back from her and I don’t expect to. It’s probably still for the better that way, LOL. I do miss our chats at times, though, hottie or not. We both may have said things we shouldn’t have said, but I will always have fond memories of her. The secrets we shared… the things we’d joke about…

I made the comment to Tom earlier about how my teeth appear to be the whitest they’ve ever been, and it’s true. He said that’s what I get for having them cleaned recently, keeping up on them better, limiting the coffee/tea, and not smoking. I’m definitely keeping up on them better. I used to brush just once a day and use the WaterPik if I happened to feel like it and remember to. Now I’m brushing when I get up and then again with that special fluoride toothpaste the dentist gave me at the end of my day. In addition to that, I am flossing the old-fashioned way and rinsing with Act every day.

We went bike riding and it was breezy but beautiful out. It seemed the wind was against me in every direction I faced. At least it was dead. No traffic or mutt walkers.

FRIDAY, MAY 15, 2015 We had some pretty cool thunderstorms yesterday evening. Glad I wasn’t sleeping!

Some black pickup has been speeding through the park. Today’s the first time I’ve seen it. It speeds so fast that its tires squeal as it comes around the corner where there is a long run without speed bumps.

Our future cat’s shit genie has arrived today. It’s going to take a lot of shit to fill that thing up, LOL.

We also put up our latest new decorative wall plates, one in the living room and one in the bedroom.

Lost a few pounds by cutting back over the week. I was always able to lose at least a few pounds. The question is, do I want to see if I can lose more on the 75’s, or do I want to continue to enjoy my weekend binging? Maybe I’ll compromise and do a little of both. I’m not determined and motivated enough to make a full-fledged commitment. You know how it usually works… The more you want something, the more you are willing to sacrifice in order to obtain it.

Later…

I feel really bad for Andy. His situation reminds me of Norwich and Phoenix. His neighbors fight, and screaming kids play outside his place and steal this piece all day long. He complained to the board about next door’s fighting twice and it didn’t do any good, although the couple’s son, who is the one doing the shouting, has been quieter the last couple of weeks.

Some brats jumped out of a tree and onto someone’s car and so they cut the tree down because of that as well as bird droppings from birds within the trees. Andy isn’t too happy with that. That’s not the only tree they cut down either.

He says he pays for peace and he will fight to get that peace. Not in the mainstream, he won’t, and while he’s attached to others in a place that has incredibly thin walls like the NHA did. If we can’t always get peace here in a house in a retirement community, why does he think he would get it there?

I guess Doc O patched things up with her daughter because she has been re-added to her Facebook account, LOL.

Since I like to have at least one of my lead characters in my books be based on somebody I know or have seen, and also stem from at least a little bit of reality, my new story will be called Rainstorm. I figured I could use the daughter Stormy to pick on “Rain” and vice versa. The good doc will have to play referee at times.

The plot will basically deal with Doc O’s husband dying of an unexpected heart attack, and then a patient of hers moving in across the street from her. Once they realize they are neighbors, Doc O falls a little too hard for her until she is driven to kill the woman’s husband. She then coaxes her to sell her house and move in with her, something Stormy feels a little weird about since Rain is so close to her in age.

I have a whole new story format/style that I've started using that I like a lot as opposed to chapters or line breaks to represent scene changes. Since I usually write in third person and alternate between different characters’ points of view, I just decided to head sections with the name of the person whose POV is being presented. I got the idea from a book I recently read. So instead of saying chapter whatever, the person’s name will be there.

I don’t usually talk much about my friends in my journal anymore, but since I created a section for private entries, I guess I can do a quick friend update.

Paula is still awaiting her birthday present.

Mitch and I are still in touch.

I don’t communicate with Christine very much, but we still do occasionally.

Adonis almost never communicates with me, and although I asked him if he wants to remain friends on Facebook, he insists he does. Maybe his Vietnamese girlfriend has something to do with his lack of contact.

Alison, and of course Andy, and I are in touch daily. I have not had any problems with Kim, and there has been absolutely no sign of Molly online whatsoever. If she isn’t dead, then her parents are finally doing a great job of keeping her off-line where she belongs.

I currently blog on 4 sites and my regular followers are basically invisible on 3 of them except for Prosebox. My regulars there include a 24-year-old in England, a 27-year-old in Oregon, a 41-year-old and Florida, and a few others that rarely comment. The old lady in Texas still comes in almost daily as well.

I don’t hear from my nieces very often. I actually hear from Norma more than them.

I hear from Irene here and there who claims not to have heard from Nane since around the time we broke up. That is unless Nane told her to say that. Nane's account hasn’t been public since then, but I know she still uses it because she plays backgammon every day like Doc O plays slots every day. Sometimes I even miss the judgmental Hündin.

I think that pretty much covers the regulars. I figure that if there’s anybody I’m forgetting, then they aren’t in my life enough to remember them.

THURSDAY, MAY 14, 2015 I didn’t do an entry yesterday because I wrote so much the day before. The kitten is getting real! We ordered tons of stuff for it on Amazon this morning… one of those high-tech litter boxes, food and water bowls, a carrier, a bed, and what I call a shit genie with a genie mat.

The shit genie seals clumps of shit much like a diaper sealer, and the mat catches and holds litter. Things have come a long way from those days when all we had was a plastic tray for cats to do their thing in.

We still want to get one of those carpeted perches for it to climb on, but there’s no hurry because it will only be a few months old when we get it at the end of the month.

I also grabbed myself a rainbow sundress and a couple of sleeveless nightgowns to replace a couple my mother sent me years ago. These aren’t to sleep in since I prefer to sleep in just my panties, but for lounging around on warm nights. That is if they ever return to Citrus Heights. It’s mid-May and we still need the damn heat late at night. :(

The only slight negative is that I woke up overheated a few hours after crashing, but it was definitely because it got too warm in the bedroom. Thinking the warm weather was here to stay, we opened the vent real wide in there to keep it cooler when the AC was running, yet this makes it too hot when the heat’s running. But I stayed calm, didn’t panic, turned the heat down, used the potty, then my heartbeat slowed down and I slept just fine without having to take anything to help me get back to sleep.

Been having weird dreams lately, but I only remember bits and pieces… me holding a giant rat as a rabbit hopped by, Tom saying we’ll get a two-bedroom house in two years (we have a two-bedroom now), and dreams of Nane. I’m not sure what Nane was doing in my dreams. It seems we might have been picnicking together.

We were vacationing or living in apartments or condos somewhere, but in one dream there was a garage just outside the bedroom wall, and I was telling Tom that I was afraid that some night someone would get drunk and drive right through the wall and run us over in our sleep.

Then I was in some wooded area where a large river ran through. I was standing by its side. Its current was very fast and as much as I wanted to take a dip in it, I was afraid of getting swept away.

TUESDAY, MAY 12, 2015 I am now appointment-free until June 9th… Yay!

Last night I dyed my hair and it was the easiest dye job to do in years with my hair being so much shorter.

We changed the air filters in the air cleaners in the bedroom and living room and they will be good for a year.

Got up this morning and was a little tired. I am going to sleep for a million hours tomorrow, alarm-free! Before I go on, and speaking of alarm clocks… although I rarely use alarms, I decided it’s time to replace the ancient alarm clock that I’ve had for at least 20 years. I’m getting a really cool one that lets you change display colors. It will be fun to change every week or two for variety.

So I got up, took my meds, and had Alexa set a timer for a half-hour as always. Then I checked in on the usual sites I check in on before I could have my coffee. I scrolled down the Facebook news feed a little bit just to find it littered with people’s “likes,” and so I hopped onto Prosebox.

I read something so disgusting that I couldn’t stop reading about it. It talked of how a woman carries microscopic traces of the DNA of every man she’s ever slept with for the rest of her life. Assuming this means that the guy has to cum, I thought of who else I may have been dumb enough to have unprotected sex with other than my husband that may have gotten off in the end. I can only think of one and that would be Ron. Pretty sure the few others either got off by me giving them a hand job, didn’t get off at all, or were wearing rubbers.

The grossest part is where they talked about how a woman that swallows a guy’s cum and how the cells get behind her eyes, in her nasal cavity and pretty much spread throughout her entire body since they’re living cells that latch onto the body and basically call any host home.

So I still have this less than handsome, partially bald, ugly, naïve, dumb-ass loser that I was too nice to say “no” to living within me however microscopically it may be, 20 years after the fact. EW! Just EW!

As they say, never sleep with anyone you wouldn’t want to be because they will become a part of you.

We set the bombs off and left when the landscapers that come on Tuesdays were getting started, so that was an annoyance I didn’t have to listen to. Then it was off to see the counselor, Stacey. I like her better than Dana. Dana constantly interrupted me but this one listened intently as she took notes. Although I haven’t felt the need to chat nonstop for years now, it is nice to be able to do the talking for once, instead of others rambling on and on and always interrupting me.

I wasted no time getting to the point. Tom was with me, too. We explained to her that while we understand that the doctors aren’t doing anything wrong by referring me, and while I can understand that they haven’t known me for over 20 years like my husband, it’s frustrating and costing us money trying to get it through to them that I never had anxiety attacks before last year. I’ve had the stress from hell, but I have never experienced what I experienced last year until my thyroid medication became an issue when I had those flare-ups.

She seemed to understand how terrified I was not knowing what the hell was going on at the time. While both are going to cause trauma and phobia, it is different if you’re threatened at gunpoint versus thinking you accidentally overdosed and may die. At least with the gunman, as terrifying as that may be, you at least know what’s going on. But when your body does something you know it’s not supposed to do and you don’t have a clue as to why; that’s taking the terror to a whole new level. The internal bogeyman can be a lot scarier than the external bogeyman.

We all agree, however, that the events of last year did truly traumatize me and give me a phobia about taking medication in general. I have improved tremendously over the months, though. Initially, even ibuprofen, which I had taken for years for cramps and other things, seemed very threatening.

We also told her about how the Prozac backfired on me.

She said she would let A know that I saw her today and that she believes the anxiety is due to my thyroid as well as medication issues, and let me know that she’d be there for me if I wanted to see her again. It’s nice to know she’s there, but I think my condition is stable and that my thyroid is a lot deader than last year. I just hope I don’t get some whole new problem now that this is getting settled.

I did learn some interesting things from her, however, that’s nice to know because there’s always the threat of future anxiety attacks for any of us, for any reason. An anxiety attack only lasts 9 minutes. I didn’t know this before. The key is learning to flush the extra adrenaline out of your system in a quicker and more efficient manner by remaining calm. She also said that deep breathing exercises might actually make it worse if you do it too late. She recommended some type of physical activity, which surprised me because I thought that would make it worse by elevating the heartbeat even more. She said that initially, that could be the case, but it would actually help calm me down faster. I just hope I continue to be problem-free on the dosage of thyroid medication I’m currently on!

After seeing Stacey, we stopped at Carl’s Jr. for burgers and fries.

When we got home we aired the place out and I said hello to Bob as he was walking up his driveway. He offered us a really nice square glass table that I’m guessing is about 5’x5’. I remember when we looked at this place and the realtor asked if they could leave any furniture behind that they wanted to, which I okayed, and how I hoped to myself that they would leave the rectangular glass table in which we sat talking on the patio, but they didn’t. Well, now we have one just as nice!

Tom hosed down the white plastic chairs we got in Auburn, but the vinyl cushions were all torn up. We’ll grab some new ones soon enough.

That was so incredibly nice of Bob! I told Tom that I almost felt guilty because we haven’t done anything for them. He said that before I felt that way, we only got it because they wouldn’t take it (they were collecting clothes today), and while it was still very nice of him, we’re technically doing them a favor by taking it off their hands.

So now I have the table to sit at with my laptop and the swing to sit on with my Paperwhite, assuming the bees aren’t terrorizing me.

Paula texted me to ask me to make her a lucky bracelet for her birthday. I let her know that we sent her birthday present today and she thanked me, saying I always remember her birthday. I do.

Ugh. :( I wondered why I hadn't heard from my beloved Italian foster dad in a while, who just popped into mind. I just now decided to check obituaries and now I know why. His wife died in 2012. They were like the parents I never had and wish I'd had. Miss them so much!

MONDAY, MAY 11, 2015 I think Dr. O is still on vacation because she’s been playing slots every afternoon. Yeah, I love to spy. Also, another doctor answered my last question to her about whether or not I was to still see her in June and get a blood test done before that.

She hasn’t returned to my blog, and I have mixed emotions about that. It’s always cool to have a regular reader, but this way I feel I can speak more freely about my doctors, not that any of them can’t disable cookies and read me without me knowing it.

I noticed the doctor’s friend count went from 15 to 12. Wow, I thought I had few friends with just 20 friends. One of the ones that seem to be missing is her daughter Stormy. Did they have a tiff or something?

As a little test, I anonymously asked myself if I liked jokes pertaining to race and religion, and made it visible only to Andy. I said that some of the religious jokes can be funny at times, but that I’m sick to death of hearing about race. This is very true and I keep hoping he’ll take the hint, but sure enough, he didn’t and I had to spell it out for him yet again just how sick I am of the race shit.

Another thing is that I specifically mentioned twice yesterday that I was going to back off on eating as much, and sure enough, he mentioned going to the grocery store today.

Insensitive? Selfish? Or does he actually go out of his way to bring up subjects he knows people don’t want to hear?

Later…

Just finishing up with some cleaning. I now have the place almost completely cat-proofed. Not sure we’ll get a kitten next weekend, but I don’t see why we can’t get it the weekend after that.

Last night I went around and picked out some things on Amazon and placed them in the cart for now. Most of the things I picked out are pink, even if the cat may end up being a male, LOL. Hey, that’s my favorite color.

Tom and I were debating whether or not Alexa could be spying on us (Amazon Echo), but our guess is that she isn’t. Still, when you have a device with microphones that are always connected to the Internet, you can never know for sure who may be listening in on you even when you’re not using the device for what it is intended for. We don’t care if anybody is, however. I don’t see how anything we could say would be all that exciting and interesting to any potential listeners, and I already had my speech rights violated once, so I sure as hell aren’t about to allow it to happen again in the privacy of my own home. As they say, being victimized once as an adult in whatever way is one thing, but allowing it to happen a second time is another. Especially when you have choices. If any law is ever going to screw me again, I’m certainly not going to make it easy for them to do so by playing nicey-nicey and being “cooperative” like I stupidly did before. I’m just going to sue the shit out of them instead. If you send something in the mail or are accused of sending something that somebody else sent, that isn’t the same as if they go to you be it to spy on you or to view your public blogs. There’s a big difference there. So if you come to me… read/listen at your own risk! :-)

All I see on the Facebook news feed lately is what people comment on and what they "like" and it is a very annoying feature to add to my growing list of Facebook complaints. I see much more of this than their actual posts. I would really prefer to know what’s going on with them and not what news articles they’re “liking” and what friends they’re commenting on because, well, I really don’t care. A friend liking another friend’s profile picture has nothing to do with me.

Unfortunately, I realize that it’s a two-way street in this case and that if a friend comments on or “likes” something of mine, all my other friends are going to see this as well, including anything they post to my wall (kind of glad I’m not very active there or hear much from people other than in messages). It annoys me that I can’t interact with some people privately. Realizing this, I think I may go public out of curiosity to see if I get any followers. If so many people are going to see my stuff anyway then I guess I may as well not worry about trying to hide things as much. I won't make my friend list public, though.

I haven’t decided for sure if I’m going to do this, and of course I won’t make literally everything I post public, but since I’ve been troll-free for a while, I may consider it. I hate to admit it but a part of me misses being stalked, just not by batshit crazy people. If I were ever going to be stalked again it would be nice if it were somebody attractive, intelligent, interesting and fun. But sadly, that’s not the way it usually works. The vast majority of them are very homely-looking people with no brains and no life. Therefore I might as well be glad that I have been free of trolls for a long time now, and hope it stays that way. The Internet has changed since I’ve had these problems in the past, and of course, so have I. There’s no way I would put up with the shit I put up with for so damn long. I would put a stop to it before the first week was up. Not that I’m responsible for their actions, of course, but I could have done more to make myself less accessible. It’s just that when you’re an author and you have public blogs and all that, it’s not always that easy.

SUNDAY, MAY 10, 2015 No hope of menopause setting in even more this month. My period was only 2 days late this time around. I was really hoping to skip another month, but at least I had the easiest PMS I’ve had in years.

Yesterday was a very fun, productive and physical day. We rode our bikes a couple of miles, and then the mailman drove up with a long triangular box. In it were 3 tubes containing the gymnast wall stickers for the side of the hall that runs along the laundry room and second bath. They were a bitch to apply and it took a few hours but they look fantastic! I did this while Tom did some trimming and weeding outdoors.

Later…

Here’s proof once again that life isn’t always what we plan it… And that can actually be a good thing. I called our closest Petco to find that for three hours on Saturdays and Sundays, they have three-month-old kittens up for adoption who are neutered/spayed and have had their shots. They weren’t supposed to be there until noon, so I first tried a new Chinese place.

I ordered beef fried rice and wonton soup to go. Strangely enough, there was an additional container and for a minute I thought they accidentally gave me somebody else’s lunch. It was filled with steamed vegetables, chicken pieces and wontons. When I opened the soup container and found only the broth within, that’s when I knew that all those vegetables were supposed to be added to the soup. I decided to add just the wontons.

What was absolutely disgusting was biting into what I thought was a little sliver of green pepper that was actually the spiciest thing I ever bit into in my entire life. I ran and rinsed my mouth like crazy, but my mouth and lips burned really bad for about an hour. How can any human being do that to themselves??? It’s like taking a match and lighting it inside your mouth. I don’t understand why anybody would want to do that.

Everything else was delicious. There is so much food that I can munch on it on and off for the next couple of days. They do Chinese and Vietnamese food and I can order online as well. I’m mostly interested in the various fried rice dishes. I don’t care for stuff like chow mein and egg rolls.

Upping my dosage and metabolism has made me hungrier. Tomorrow all this ferocious eating needs to end. I’m not going on a “diet,” so to speak, because I couldn’t stand the hunger it would take to get down into the 120s. I would like to stay in the 140s, though, so I am going to pace my food by going back on a timer menu of sorts where I only eat every 3 to 4 hours. This helps me cut back without feeling like I’m going to starve to death like a 1200-calorie diet would make me feel. I’ll have, “Alexa,” my personal assistant who works for me full-time, set timers for me.

Tom and I were laughing at how the name Alexa is definitely out of the question for the cat since the original Alexa will respond every time she hears her name. Usually, you just hear a 2-note tone which is basically her way of saying, “I heard my name but didn’t get what you were asking me to do,” if her name is mentioned without following with a command that she is programmed to handle.

So we come home, eat, digest a little, and then head to Petco. Sure enough, they tell us that there are no kittens for adoption today because of Mother’s Day. Now why oh why wasn’t I told that over the phone? I hate it when the holidays interfere with things!

But it actually turned out for the better this way because then we have a chance to get it everything it needs beforehand (for a lot less money on Amazon than at Petco), and we can bomb the house first which we will do Tuesday while I’m at my appointment and then stopping at Raley’s for a white base coat nail polish and the postage to mail Paula’s little birthday envelope off to her.

For now, if you’ve been born yet, kitty, I hope whoever’s got you now is taking really good care of you until your new parents can adopt you and bring you home!

Since we were at the store anyway we looked around at products and compared prices in our minds to what we’ve seen on Amazon, and of course we checked out the rats. They had a huge adult cream-colored rat that was so adorable. Its tail was over a foot long. He was easily over a pound and I had to resist the urge to reach in and hug it and kiss it and run out of the store with it. Instead, we got Hoodie a new fleece-lined hammock with a zebra design… until the idiot chews one of the straps. Less than five minutes after I hooked it in his cage he crawled up into it and went to sleep. Well if you like it so much, don’t chew the straps, you furry bastard!

SATURDAY, MAY 9, 2015 My 24-piece nail art polishes arrived yesterday, so after Tom and I go for a bike ride, I will do some colorful creations on my nails.

I’m sending Paula a couple of bottles of other nail polish which I only used once and didn’t really care for. I think she’ll like them, but it’s ok if she doesn’t and wants to give them away or something. I just hate to throw things away.

She’ll be 48 on the 30th.

The weather’s still in that “stuck in-between” stage. It’s not winter anymore, but it’s not quite summer yet. It’s nice in the afternoons, but cold in the mornings.

Later…

Dear Mom,

Not that I’m sure I believe in the afterlife or any kind of heaven or hell (I don’t know that for sure either way) but this is just to inform you that I treat everybody the same. And I do it without feeling a shred of shame or guilt. What that means is that I would not tolerate or forgive the abuse of a family member any more than I would a friend or lover. That includes you. You abused me for many years in almost every way imaginable. I cannot and will not ever forgive or forget that.

Carrying me for nine months and then giving birth to me is not an automatic “ok” pass to be excused for abusiveness. It does not grant you the right to abuse me as you did and it does not make you worthy of being forgiven by me either. I have too much respect for myself to be blinded by biology. Biology is not an excuse or a ticket to be abusive simply because your own mother abused you and set a shitty example for you. By the time you were an adult, you should’ve been smart enough to know right from wrong no matter what kind of example was set for you. I have no pity for you. I have no respect for you. You were a hypocritical little shit filled with nothing but condemnation, judgment, jealousy, phoniness, selfishness and insensitivity, though you sure thought you were superior to everyone else, didn’t you?

You once told me that if I didn’t like somebody, then don’t have anything to do with them. This was probably the only good advice you ever gave me, and this is why you didn’t have me in your life for a good decade or so. See, I don’t waste time with revenge and stooping to anyone’s lowlife levels that I may come to dislike; I simply ignore them and disappear from their lives. Poof. Gone. History. Just like that.

Until you got too old and senile, you put me down every chance you got. You treated me like dog shit. You made me feel stupid as hell. I may not be perfect, a genius or rich, but let’s see YOU come back to life and write 29 books, get anywhere from knowledgeable to fluent in 8 languages, and then call ME dumb again. Oh, and don’t forget to taunt me about my weight again, too.

Let’s see you raise a hand to me so I can break your arm in a million more places than mine broke when I threw myself out a window mostly thanks to you. You had the guts to hit me as a small child but once I grew up you were nothing but a gutless piece of shit, weren’t you?

Get over you and rise above you… I definitely have. Forgive you… No chance in hell. So if you’re out there, Dureen June, I hope the afterlife has been anything but kind to you and that you are suffering every single minute and that every single minute is like an eternity and then some. May you rot in hell and suffer a million times worse than any amount of suffering you ever inflicted upon me. That is my so-called Mother’s Day gift to you.

FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015 Never heard anything yesterday about my test results. Maybe today. I’m not going to worry about calling them, though, because it’s their job to get in touch with me. I just worry about being pressured to go to a higher dose too soon. I would really like to stay on 75’s for the rest of the year before I go making any additional changes.

Tom was going to get himself a new Mac Mini and a new monitor but then realized he wouldn’t be home enough to use it so he is holding off for now since his seven-year-old iMac that I won is still working fine. The one I won for me is sitting in the bedroom closet on standby in case anything malfunctions on my new MacBook Air

We did get a bunch of other stuff on Amazon, and some of the things I got included a few more large gymnast stickers. So when you walk down our long hallway you will be surrounded by leaping gymnasts in various poses with a couple of figure skaters to start you off.

My pearl slave ankle bracelet came yesterday and it is okay. Still waiting on the turquoise slave bracelet. I posted a pic of my very old-looking foot on Twitter.

I also got a set of 24 rainbow nail art polishes. That will really get my colorful and creative juices flowing.

The rainbow spinner that I grabbed at the dollar store was a dollar well spent. We attached it so that it hangs off of this trellis-like thing that’s on the front patio and it looks really cool from the kitchen window. Yesterday was pretty breezy so it was really spinning up a storm. If I can hear the wind chimes then I know it’s really moving.

I had a rather disturbing dream last night where I think I might have been in jail, though I’m not sure what it was I was accused of. I was still on inhalers like I was 15 years ago and mentioned needing one. A stout, balding, uniformed cop said he “ordered” one.

Then they were searching for my fingerprints on possible evidence with what they told me was luminal. In real life, however, I learned from watching forensic shows that luminal is used to make blood appear that have been washed away. In my mind, I calculated that if I was convicted of whatever it was they were investigating, I could spend anywhere from a few months in jail to six years in prison. An escape plan was hatching in my mind as I woke up.

Later…

So I came out of the bathroom about an hour ago to see that Chris left me a message. I called back and was transferred to endocrinology just to be told she was busy. So I sat there with my heart pounding in anticipation (yes, that is “normal” anxiety for me) of her return call.

Eventually, the phone rings and I snatch it up, hoping for the best but fearing the worst. She says hello and all that, and I finally cut to the chase and tell her I hope she had good news for me. She did! I tested negative for the HAMA thing, and my TSH is down to 11, just slightly out of range!!!

I literally cried tears of joy and relief. I sent a message thanking the doctor, letting her know I feel better and hope to continue on the 75s without any issues. I also asked if she still wanted to see me in June and if I was supposed to go to the lab the week before. My TSH is probably on the upper end of the normal range right now since I was last tested just two weeks after I started it.

I am just so, so happy! I didn’t expect to have the HAMA, but I thought she was going to tell me my TSH was in the teens and insist I up my thyroid medication dose right away.

As I also told her, I still don’t think a counselor and shrink are necessary as I firmly believe the bulk of the anxiety stems from what happened last year, and the Prozac, which takes time to get over, but I will keep those appointments anyway.

In other news, my slave bracelet arrived. I like it better than the other one, though it is a bit big for me

THURSDAY, MAY 7, 2015 Yesterday turned out to be a pretty hilarious day. HAMA stands for human anti-mouse antibodies, so I learned thanks to a friend who does great research. When I asked the nurse what this meant, she said she didn’t know and then she said what I thought was, “All I know is that it has to do with the mouth.” Well “mouth” was obviously “mouse.”

I had quickly looked it up but hadn’t read anything in detail until a friend slipped me some links Tom and I checked out. It didn’t mention rats, but apparently, exposure to mice, particularly wild mice, can create antibodies in a person that can interfere with the results of blood tests. If I have this thing, then it might be giving false high readings on my TSH tests.

Personally, I don’t think I do, but I have definitely dealt with wild mice. We used to get them all the time in the trailer, and one time we had one in our Phoenix house in which I decided to make a pet. I called him Gizzy, LOL. I never handled him, because he was too timid and I didn’t want to get bit, but I gave him a home for a while. After two or three escapes, I decided to set him free again, realizing he was never meant to be anybody’s pet as adorable as he was. I even caught a pair of mice in Maricopa. Despite plenty of contact with rats and mice, both wild and not, I don’t think that’s the issue but that is just a guess. Only the test results can say for sure.

I was laughing at the thought of the good doctor noticing my rodent obsession (rat T-shirt last time I saw her, rat profile pics on both Facebook and the health site, even though I doubt they see our profile pictures on the health site), and thinking that that’s why she should do this test. Tom doesn’t think that has anything to do with it so much as the fact that some people have had the symptoms that I’ve had while getting high readings that say they’re undermedicated even though they feel overmedicated. Maybe I will find out something today. I’m more concerned with my TSH score, but if I have this anti-body present, all they have to do is a different type of test. My doctor’s good, though. Damn good. I doubt Dr. D ever would’ve ever come up with this idea.

Tom got a paid day off for doing that woman’s job that’s on maternity leave. Not sure that’s nearly enough of a reward, but it’s better than nothing.

Oh, wow. It’s actually raining out there now. I heard some thunder earlier but didn’t expect any rain. Maybe it will keep things quiet today and I will stay in the front of the house. I have been finding it better to retreat to the back of the house during the daytime during the week.

Revlon's Tea Rose polish may smell like roses, but their Chocolate Truffle barely smells chocolatey, and the color is hideously ugly. If it weren’t for Gold Glaze's transforming effects, I would have taken it right off. Might send it to a friend.

Last night I beat the shit out of some guy in my dreams that was in a pool with jade-green water so murky you couldn’t even see through half an inch of it. I don’t know what in the world he said to piss me off bad enough to make me jump into such filthy water and punch him in the face and then slam his head against the concrete side of the pool while Tom watched in horror shouting, “NO!” But it must’ve been pretty bad. Normally words aren’t enough to get me to go after someone, so I would have had to perceive it as something very threatening. After the 30-second surprise attack rendered him unconscious, I pulled myself out of the water and hosed myself down.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 6, 2015 I now have 6 appointments between now and September, 3 of which are unnecessary. My PCP thanked me online for the shrink appointment info saying she’ll try to get me in sooner or on a cancelation list. I almost replied with, “No hurry. I’m feeling much better. As I told you and Doc O, as long as I’m not on the wrong medication or too much of it, my anxiety is much easier to manage.”

But they still wouldn’t get it, not to mention the fact that all these appointments can make a person with my sleep issues feel very overwhelmed, and that it’s costing us money. I did point that out to my PCP’s nurse, however, every time we have to run in for something that can be done by phone or online, we have to pay.

I spoke to Paula yesterday and asked her if she’d ever been on Prozac before. She has. She said all it does is give her funny dreams.

She called because she had been worried about me saying she wasn’t receiving my texts and wondered if I got caught up in earthquakes, fires, and every other imaginable catastrophe. Yet when I texted her afterward, she got them just fine. I think she just wanted to talk and that’s probably why she blocked her number, too. I answered thinking it was the doctor’s office, but that’s ok, LOL. I don’t mind chatting every now and then.

I used the laptop in the bedroom yesterday for about 5 or 6 hours and the battery drained down to 51%. It took just over an hour to charge it. This pretty much tells me it would last all day, which is a good thing. It would probably take 2.5 hours to charge if it was totally dead.

I had some dream about swimming in a pool and tanning and possibly wanting to go high-diving at night but thinking better of doing such a thing with no one else around.

Then I dreamed I was telling Tammy that I thought menopause was coming on and she kept insisting that I was too young for that. I told her I didn’t expect it until my 50s, but was confident that menopause was truly setting in.

In reality, I am starting to retain water, but just like last month, there’s no way my period is coming on time, which is supposed to be tomorrow. With my shit luck, I will PMS for a month before I have another period.

Andy continues to annoy the shit out of me and make me question the validity of his friendship by posting pictures depicting subjects he knows bothers me or that I am sick to death of. Every time he does this, though, the longer I will go before I check in on Ask. Only problem was that he hadn’t checked in before I checked in the last time, which is probably part of why he posted the picture at that particular time… because he knew he would be unavailable for several hours anyway, which sort of defeats my purpose. He may not be smart, but he’s not as dumb as Paula.

Later…

I keep hoping they’ll post my TSH score online, but they haven’t yet. I’m trying to decide whether or not I should call for the numbers, even though I shouldn’t have to because that’s what the online site is supposed to be for. A part of me is curious and a part of me doesn’t want to know because I truly believe the results aren’t good. They may be better, but I doubt they’re good enough. They know what the results are whether I know it or not so I guess I will find out soon enough either way.

I am more concerned as to what the doctor might want to do about those bad numbers than the bad numbers themselves. It is way too soon to up my dose again after all the shit I’ve been through. I am just not ready for that yet. Now that I finally got to a stable place both physically and emotionally I need to stay there for a while. Even if the numbers aren’t perfect, I’m not unhealthy and I’m not in danger, so I don’t want to push myself too far too soon.

I suppose it will be a while before the movie Cleveland Abduction is available online. I know the basics of the story and that one of the girls had a baby in captivity, believing that her dead mother sent her an “angel.” Well, I’m not so sure the dead can influence the living and I definitely can’t believe any mother would want her daughter to get pregnant by her rapist, but I can understand that in desperate situations we sometimes need to tell ourselves these things in order to survive. I’ve done similar things in times of desperation way back when. I didn’t brainwash myself into believing some of the things I tried to tell myself, but it was a sort of a mental pretend game that I would play in order to help me cope. Just like many try to justify life’s horrors by convincing themselves it’s “God’s will,” I have my own ways of getting through life’s hardships. Sometimes we need to tell ourselves whatever sounds best in the worst of moments. Some of us may believe those words while others don’t, but we always try to do whatever it takes.

Do I believe there’s a God that loves us all equally? No, I don’t. I think if there is a God that He is a real shit to some of us with total disregard for how some people are affected both physically and emotionally. However, if I have a tough time in life and I find that telling myself that wearing a red shirt while eating a banana is the key to getting through it, then that’s what I’ll tell myself even if I’m kidding myself in the end. So yeah, I can kind of understand the God/Angel fantasy. I suppose destiny will always play itself out no matter what we do, though. We can fantasize, we can bullshit ourselves… but fate will be fate no matter what.

Later…

OMG, my endo’s nurse just scared the shit out of me! If it wasn’t for the relief I felt afterward I might have been pissed. Finally curious about my TSH score, which failed to show up online, I called and spoke to Chris. She then tells me my score was 21 and I’m thinking, oh no, just oh fucking no. How can that be after two weeks on a higher dose?

She then went on to tell me that an underactive thyroid can cause depression and all that, and I expressed my fears of taking on a higher dose so soon after I finally found some stability that I would like to enjoy for more than a week.

Then she was confused and wondering why I would be tested just two weeks after starting a new dose since it takes two weeks to get into the system and four weeks to see results. I wondered that too, but all I know is that I was told to go to the lab and so I did last Saturday.

Then she was even more confused and realized that she was reading me results from April. This would explain why I supposedly had the same score twice in a row, which would be unlikely unless I was on no medication at all.

So she called the lab and then she called me back to tell me something I wish I had known before. The results of this particular test take longer because it includes a HAMA. This has to do with the antibodies that can cause false high readings and one to be thyrotoxic.

Damn, do I miss those days when I didn’t need any medications and tests and all that stuff. But they’re over. Totally over. Yes, I am throwing myself a five-minute pity party, and it’s my party so I’ll cry if I want to.

TUESDAY, MAY 5, 2015 In about an hour, I’m going to take the laptop and hang out in back of the house for the day. No one’s been sawing and there wasn’t any landscaping yesterday, but Bob is constantly doing shit in his garage and even if most of the sounds are subtle little bumps and bangs, it is both annoying and distracting when I am trying to focus on my work. I went to sit and read outside in the fresh air and I could swear I smelled some chemical coming from his garage, like maybe paint.

Today’s Tuesday, so there will be landscaping noise because the house across from us is on for today. Then there’s whatever the park decides to do.

These doctors, nurses and appointments are really starting to overwhelm me and I’m tempted to just ignore the phone for the day and give myself a break. I asked Tom if he thought they really cared and were trying to help me or if there could be some sort of conspiracy going on I might not know about connected to insurance or something like that. He said it’s mostly that they just don’t want to be sued and that by sending me to a specialist they’re safe.

My endo’s nurse ended up calling and I told her that now that I felt better, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go making any more changes too soon. As they say, why change what works? She agreed I sounded a lot better. I don’t know that the dosage I’m on may not give me trouble later on, but for now, I am enjoying the fact that I feel better. I am just afraid to try any new psych pills that might end up being a real mind fucker like the Prozac was.

She told me to relay the same information to my PCP and I did. Then the PCP leaves a message on Tom’s phone, and Tom Skypes me to tell me to give her a call. So I called and ended up talking to her directly, and she pointed out that I had anxiety before the Prozac. That’s very true, but as I tried to tell her, the first time I went on the levothyroxine there was still some life left in my thyroid and those pockets of activity that flared up were what caused my severe anxiety, and that I was not normally anxious to that extreme. As long as I’m not on the wrong medication or too high of a dose, there is no crisis. I’m just not sure either doctor understands this. I’m not sure if it’s just because they don’t know me very well or what.

I have had many instances of stress in my life and the worst thing it has done to me is cause me to have the runs and restless sleep, not feel like I’m going to panic and go out of my mind, or like my heart is about to jump out of my chest and I feel like I’m going to suffocate. That all started last year after they raised my levothyroxine dose. As they also say, though, we can explain something to someone but we can’t make them get it. I suppose that if I keep explaining it, sooner or later it will sink in, but I’m not that patient. I can kind of see why they may think I come across as more anxious than I actually feel at times. I’m naturally energetic and that may be taken as somebody who always has bad anxiety.

Nonetheless, it won’t kill me to tell the same damn thing to a counselor on the 12th and then to a shrink in July even if we’re the ones that have to pay for it in time, gas, and money. Unless my PCP and endo pull strings to get me in sooner, which is what they would like to do. I don’t know how to tell them, “It’s okay guys. I’m off the Prozac. I don’t want to kill myself. Relax!”

There is still a risk of an anxiety flare-up, however, because other things in life can cause that, and I don’t know that my thyroid is 100% dead yet. I slept great last night and didn’t get raced awake by my heart, be it due to anxiety or menopause or whatever.

To add to my already growing list of appointments, my PCP wants to see me in a month. I have no idea why. What must I see her for in a month that I can’t tell her online or by phone? Just because some of us have money doesn’t mean we want to throw it away frivolously. Every time I have to see a doctor or specialist it costs us. $25-$35 may not seem like much, but it adds up in time.

I had a dream that Tom and I were in Boston. It definitely couldn’t have been on a vacation because that’s the last place we’d go. However, we stayed at a hotel in which I knew that Mary G/D and her mother worked. In reality, I want nothing to do with her and I don’t see that changing in the future after the way she used me so badly for many years from jail and then decided she didn’t need me afterward while throwing some false accusations at me on her way out of my life. She was an extremely needy, naïve and paranoid person. She’s probably still using some abusive rich guy to feed her shopping addiction.

Regardless, in the dream, I met up with her mother who was half the age she would be in real life. She had long straight silver hair but it didn’t make her look old or ugly. She knew who I was and she didn’t seem to like me at all. I don’t remember what she said but she started voicing some rather judgmental opinions about me about something or another. I eyed her pregnant belly with disgust and a little judgment of my own, knowing that she got knocked up by Mary's present boyfriend, and told her to let Mary know that I was around before I turned and went back to my hotel room.

MONDAY, MAY 4, 2015 I was falling asleep thinking how wonderful the weekend had been just to wake up an hour later with my heart racing. I thought I was over that shit! Why does the past love to return to haunt me and why have I been having these things? Did I just get overheated? Is it menopause? Anxiety? My medication?

It raced really fast for a few minutes. Even my brain felt like it was sizzling or something, and I took lorazepam to help me fall back asleep. After that I was fine. I didn’t wake up a million times and I had no more “heart attacks.”

I was in the middle of dreaming that Tom and I were on some boat or ship. I don’t think it was ours. A storm was brewing and he wanted to see if we could get to a particular place before it got bad so he opened a door to check the weather conditions out. It was very windy and cloudy so I told him to forget it. If my heart hadn’t raced me awake I probably wouldn’t remember that dream.

The lady who lives diagonally from us with the double-door garage was having it worse. I got up at 2 AM and a half-hour later I was aware of car door slamming. My first thought was that it was next door. Wondering what the hell they could be doing at that hour, I looked out the window and saw fire and ambulance had pulled up to the other house. The woman was loaded into the ambulance and her husband followed in their car.

Just got a notice from my endo doc saying:

I am glad you are able to articulate all this more openly as I believe it is part of the healing process. We will GET to a good place in time with all of this. Let me think of next steps but certainly one is to help the anxiety calm down with medication that agrees with you. I will work with Dr A to help get you in for a medication evaluation with a psychiatrist. Once the anxiety is more settled I think we can tackle the thyroid. Hang in there! DR O

So I Skyped Tom and asked him what I should reply with, and he said:

No need to reply…they can talk all they want then we'll do what is best.

As I sit here and mull her words around in my mind, I’m not sure what to think. I have mixed emotions about things right now and with good reason. I don't want to end up a walking pharmacy I was as a kid, but at least I have rights to my life now that I didn't have before. At 16 years of age, I simply couldn’t say “no” to any medication I didn’t want to try or that I didn’t like the effects of. Now I do. I don't want to treat anything physical or emotional unless it is absolutely necessary to my well-being.

Again, I’m not sure a counselor, shrink and medication are necessary if they just give me the proper dose of thyroid medication. I never had anxiety problems this severe before, so why now, even though I happen to feel fine at the present moment?

I appreciate the doctor not giving up on me and I appreciate her doing her job and trying to get me to a better place where I feel better and I’m healthier. I’m just afraid that their efforts may make me worse as the Prozac did. I don’t want to get worse trying to fix something that may be able to be fixed simply with the proper dose of thyroid medication. So I have mixed emotions like I said. I respect the fact that they’re the experts, but sometimes I think that maybe I still know myself best and that they’re getting a little too carried away. I guess time will tell. Either way, I definitely don’t want to go through the physical or emotional hell I have been through all over again, and I know there are no guarantees that I won’t.

There are other fears as well. I became addicted to and acquired permanent side effects from the Navane I took many years ago. Well, I don’t want to become dependent on pills any more than I would on alcohol or illegal drugs and then suffer long-term consequences. So unless it is absolutely necessary, I don’t want anybody playing God with my brain chemistry too much. Yes, I’d rather get addicted than feel like I’m going to die, but if there’s a better, easier way, I’d rather that.

I thought about it for months and finally decided that getting my hair straightened might damage my already damaged hair, and decided that I was sick of long hair anyway, so I cut it off. It’s not only easier to deal with and more manageable this way since it’s very curly and I have to dye it regularly, but it will make it easier for swimming season.

I got it done at Supercuts and the girl did a great job. It’s to the shoulders with a slight layer in back to keep it from poofing out, and some face-framing. The whole thing took only about 15 minutes and when she was done she put some anti-frizz product in it that smelled really good. The whole thing cost just $16.

Tom told me we could go anywhere I wanted and I could have any service I wanted. That’s really sweet of him, but I never saw the point in paying $60 for the same cut you can get for $16 whether you have extra money or not, and I guess we’re doing pretty well right now because we calculated that if he were suddenly jobless and didn’t get unemployment, we would be okay for 10-11 months. Either way, the prospect of ever becoming poor again seems like nothing compared to the physical and emotional hell I’ve been through the last year.

Between bike riding and tons of walking through giant parking lots, I got a lot of exercise yesterday. The lady at Supercuts told us we had a 25-minute wait, so we walked to the nearest store, which was a dollar store. I got a cute Rainbow spinner to put outside, and this dangly thing with gems and butterflies to hang over the bar across the top of the bench swing to give it a little decoration.

I felt a little flustered by the time we got back to Supercuts, so I decided not to go walking around Target across the way like we had originally planned and to just go back home and relax.

With all we have going on, we decided to postpone Reno until the fall. We are still not sure when and where we will get a kitten, but I guess we can start looking around.

So tell me… what’s the point of hiding our Facebook friends if Facebook is going to announce on the newsfeed that so-and-so is now friends with so-and-so? And why does Facebook need to recommend our friends to our other friends? I swear there is not one stitch of privacy on Facebook. If I post to one friend’s wall everybody else has to know about it and I don’t see why it’s their business no matter how trivial the post may be. Everything I “like” and comment on is pointed out to my friends, and while I don’t necessarily mind them knowing what I “like” and comment on, it still doesn’t pertain to them so it seems pointless. This is one of many reasons I continue to limit my usage of the site. I use it more to check for messages and collect pictures than anything else.

SUNDAY, MAY 3, 2015 Yesterday was a rather enjoyable day. Oh, some have asked me if I have any plans to try any other diets anytime soon. Naw, not worth the hunger just to lose a few pounds that only come back.

We went to Walmart and not only got groceries but a few other things as well. We got a new silverware set that looks expensive but isn’t, and I got a bottle of hot pink nail polish as well as another one of those scented polishes in Chocolate Truffle.

Got a few wax melts, one of which I had before called Purple Sands that I really like. I also got a Latte Mocha and Honeysuckle, which is in the warmer right now. Got a small bottle of White Shoulders perfume too. Maybe next time I will get Emeraude.

After we came home and put the groceries away we headed for the lab. This time there was a girl there named Kylie that I had never seen before. She was friendly and was able to draw blood on the first try. The only problem was that we had to wait a whole hour. The waiting room was so jam-packed I was amazed there were no screaming brats present.

We’re hoping for single digits, but not expecting them. I don’t understand for the life of me why the doctor has ordered this test so soon but I guess she must have her reasons. She told me she thought I needed 100 or more micrograms and unfortunately she’s probably right. Either way, she is a much better endo than an amateur shrink and I won’t hesitate to tell her that either, LOL. I don’t hold the Prozac backfiring on me against her, though, because I know she was just trying to help. For now, I will continue on with the 75s unless they become a problem again.

After the lab, it was home to good food and good relaxation.

SATURDAY, MAY 2, 2015 There’s absolutely no doubt in my mind that the Prozac was responsible for my latest round of hell. I have a feeling that the doctor is still going to claim that she’s never heard of the symptoms I had and basically imply that I’m full of shit, but I don't care. The only thing I'm unsure of at this time is whether or not I can adapt to 75. I’m also tempted to pull out of the counselor appointment and say look, "I know my body and I know what's normal for me. As long as I’m not given too much medication or the wrong kind of medication, there is no crisis."

I find it rather disturbing that two “professionals” told me that my heart racing me awake was anxiety when in fact it was the Prozac.

Blue lives matter, black lives matter… rolls eyes I don’t know who’s more pathetic. The pigs or the animals we call black people. I just know that I see a scary similarity to the savage beasts in the Middle East. Only difference is Americans loathe and refuse to tolerate those overseas while they have all the love in the world for the sick, dangerous and destructive scum we’ve got living right here. Tom says it’s all about being poor. Oh, please! We were poor for years. But did we ever go beating and robbing innocent people just because Jesse’s mutts pissed us off or something like that?

Funny how half of the pigs being charged with Grey’s death (and I do believe it was police brutality) are black. Yet people will still use race as a crutch. Everything always comes down to race in this country, even when race has nothing to do with the situation. What I know of the Grey case is obvious – it was about police brutality. Not about race. Not unless half the officers involved hate their own kind. Still, they’re not going to do shit to the cops. Cops are free to kill all they want.

So heartbreaking that the Wayne County prosecutor had to resign simply for expressing her opinion about shooting the protesters. What’s wrong with this damn country? I agree with her! If you’re going to act like animals in society you should be shot and die like animals. Black people DISGUST me with the savage beasts they so often are, much like ISIS, resorting to violence (mostly upon those who are innocent) when something pisses them off. No matter how violent we get, cops are going to continue to brutalize ALL races because that’s simply what cops do. Only difference is that the media is going to focus on black victims.

I continue to have mixed emotions about Andy. It is hard to believe that the same person who could care enough to send those cheesecake samplers would go out of his way to do things that he knows bothers me, but it’s more than obvious that this is the case. His obsession with posting pictures of violence and fire, especially when it involves blacks (pics of the Baltimore riots), really disturbs me. I don’t get what his goal is. Is he trying to push the acceptance of blacks on me? Or does he simply enjoy offending, grossing out, and annoying others? I asked if he could post things depicting things of a more peaceful nature (hey, looking at flowers puts me in a better mood than violence) and his reply was “Not yet,” and then he goes and posts another pic of the animals rioting.

Again, I am torn between hanging onto him and cutting ties. He frustrates the hell out of me, not just with his immaturity and his forgetfulness (be it his fault or not), but with the way he seems not to care about how others feel and with his selfishness. No matter how many times I tell him that a particular thing does not interest me, he seems to push it on me more. I’m amazed that I don’t have to hear about his God fantasy a lot more than I do. It seems that everything to him is about celebrities, sexy young guys, and violence.

If I asked myself if I would be friends with him if we were meeting today for the first time, the answer would honestly be no. I just know that if I let him go he would be devastated and I don’t want that. I don’t hate him; I am just annoyed by him and sick of him at times. But Andy's not one you can easily “cut back on.” You kinda gotta be all or nothing with him.

At the same time, I know I have to consider my own feelings. I have a feeling that if I told a counselor exactly how I felt about him, they would probably tell me that given how often I have doubts about him I should probably let him go. But would he let me go if I let him go? Or would he stalk the shit out of me every chance he got and try to reach out to me through my friends? This is someone that’s friends with some of my friends. Well, just Norma to be exact. The point is that disengaging myself from him may be a lot harder than it was to detangle myself from Kim in Molly. Speaking of Molly, something must’ve happened to her. This is the longest I’ve gone without any blog views from her.

Still, the frustrating question remains… do I put up with Andy's negative side, or do I let go and hope for the best?

Going for a TSH test this morning. The only thing is that I have to go to the bad vamps. Yeah, I hate this lab. Nothing but incompetent bitches work there. So… I’m sure I will be coming home with plenty of bruises. At least I didn’t have to fast all night and this morning. I’m just not sure why the doctor wants me to get tested now and not closer to our next appointment in six weeks.

Decided to place the large gymnast silhouette sticker in the hallway and she looks fantastic there! I’m going to add a few more to the other side at some point. I’m just not sure we should have painted that hallway such a bright, blinding pink, LOL.

Had some weird dreams last night, all right. For some reason, I felt compelled to tickle Tom’s foot in his sleep, but he never woke up. Then I saw what I thought might be a mouse hopping along the wall before I got up and wandered around the house. The house had multi-levels and didn’t look anything like our house. Some rooms were huge and others were tiny.

Then I dreamed I had a girlfriend in her 20s who reminded me of Nancy K. She kept insisting she was all or nothing and since we “did it” we had to be serious. I don’t know if I was young again as well, but I seemed to have serious doubts about her. I wasn’t exactly turned on by her appearance even though she wasn’t ugly, and I didn’t like how young and immature she came off as.

FRIDAY, MAY 1, 2015 I spoke with my endo doc’s nurse and told her something that only Tom knew until then. Something I should have told my doctors upfront, but was afraid to, thanks to past experience. Even Tom urged me to speak up about it.

When I was on Prozac, I not only noticed throat pain and had more trouble sleeping, but I became depressed and even had thoughts of dying. As those of you who know me well know, or have read in my past journals on other sites, I attempted suicide in my teens when I was a ward of the state and in a horrible place. After surgery set my arm and I was released from the hospital, I was returned to that same horrible place and treated so badly that I was almost sorry I didn’t succeed in ending my life. So even though it’s not the 80s and this is an entirely different situation, coming clean has backfired on me before, and I remember that. I finally realized that the only way my doctors could help me and understand what was really going on was to be upfront with them, so I told the nurse about those feelings. Prozac typically causes this in those under 25, so I definitely wasn’t expecting to end up feeling so bad.

The first few days I actually felt rather relaxed. This doesn’t mean 75 mcg of levothyroxine is right for me, though. This dose definitely causes me an uptick in both physical and emotional anxiety. However, I am going to continue it until Saturday when I get blood drawn. The doctor has ordered another TSH test.

Originally, the nurse was calling to tell me that the doctor had never heard of throat pain being connected to Prozac and that she felt I should give it another chance. As I told her, though, no matter what the numbers say, I always feel best on 50 mcgs and I don’t even need the lorazepam on that dose. Furthermore, as she agreed and confirmed, 50 mcg is NOT life-threatening. My thyroid, or complications caused by it dying, probably wouldn’t kill me or cause great harm to me for many years with absolutely no medication at all, so 50 certainly isn’t going to hurt me and it is better than nothing. I feel kind of shitty on nothing at all, better on 25, and best on 50.

Even someone who had their thyroid completely removed was telling me that even though their numbers appear a little low at 175 mcg, they can’t handle going to 200 without feeling jittery and unable to sleep.

I have no problem seeing a counselor to help me deal with the trauma of what I’ve been through over the last year and what anxiety I may naturally have which is nothing compared to what I can get from too much thyroid medication, but fuck the psych pills for now. Last night I slept the best I slept in nearly 2 weeks with NO racy heart wake-up calls. I have NO doubt in my mind that Prozac was the culprit in causing me throat pain, waking up with a racy heart, depression, and thoughts of dying. I already threw the shit away, and I wish the makers of the crap would pay us back for what we paid for it as well as Tom’s lost wages during the day he had to stay home and babysit me because I was so freaked out by how bad the shit mindfucked me. I’ve got the lorazepam to use as needed and I’m okay with that. I’m NOT okay with taking additional medication just so I can stand a higher dose of thyroid medication that may be somewhat helpful but not necessary. Again, 50 is plenty sufficient enough. A little extra weight and dry skin/hair aren’t going to kill me. I’ve also got the beta-blocker for if my heart rate gets out of hand.

Sometimes we really do have to do what’s best for us as individuals and not what’s best for the majority.

Even Andy was concerned when I told him I was starting Prozac. I told him to relax, the suicidal thoughts and depression happen mostly in younger people – and they do – and so I thought I’d be fine. Wrong! I totally get how this and other drugs can cause Robin Williams and others to either become depressed or kill themselves. Not that I didn’t get it before, but going through something like this can really wipe out any last vestiges of doubt and ignorance as to how a foreign chemical can mind fuck you and make you do things you wouldn’t normally do, especially when your life is just fine otherwise. I may not be a millionaire but I have just about everything a woman my age could want yet all I could think was, if I just didn’t exist…

After talking to the nurse I sent the doctor this:

I will take the 75s and get a TSH test probably this Saturday when I can get a ride. I just felt compelled to apologize to you directly for not telling you about how I became depressed and wanted to die on the Prozac. When I was younger and had feelings like that and confided in others, it backfired on me, and I remember that even though times have changed. I should have been more upfront with you. To make a long story short, when I was 17 I was a ward of the state and in a horrible place. I threw myself out a window and broke my upper arm. After I was released from the hospital I was returned to the same horrible place and treated so badly I was almost sorry I did not succeed. I know it is not the 80s and you are not them, but Tom has been the only one I could discuss such unwanted feelings with till now. Your nurse made me feel so much better and I am glad I told her. Thank you for continuing to work with me to help me feel better. As for the higher levothyroxine dosage, I honestly do not know that I can take that for much longer due to both the physical and emotional anxiety I get on that particular dose. There is what the numbers say and then there is how I feel, and on 50s I feel much better and I do not even need lorazepam, even though I know 50 may not be enough thyroid hormone for me. Since 50 is not life-threatening and better than nothing, I would rather take that and feel better than have to take other pills just to tolerate a higher dosage. For now, though, I will take 75s till I am tested and use the lorazepam as necessary. Again, I am sorry I was afraid to admit how I felt earlier.

Later…

Now that it has been a whole month of treating the fungus in my toenails, and now that the warmer weather is setting in, I decided it was time to polish my nails. I hate bare nails, even on dolls, LOL. The treatment made it a lot better although it is not 100% cured. I can always hit it again when the weather cools down next fall if I want to. It isn’t dangerous or painful so it doesn’t have to be perfectly cured. It looks better, though, and the nails aren’t as thick and bumpy which makes them harder to trim.

My thyroid is dead, my heart beats too fast, and my cholesterol is too high. But I'm alive! Yeah, I am still feeling much better now that I got the Prozac out of my system and now my worst problem, once again, is dealing with the daytime noise. Every single fucking day I have to hear landscaping coming from somewhere around here and it is annoying as hell.

Really hope Tammy doesn’t get settled into her new home and then get hit with daily landscaping too, and have to listen to some guy saw and hammer shit in his garage without having the decency to shut the damn door. I haven’t heard any of that lately here, but the landscaping is insane. Because she doesn’t have a lot of leafy trees and there doesn’t seem to be any common areas (I didn’t know the people own the land in the place she’s moving to), the worse she may have to deal with is lawnmowers since there seems to be a lot of grass where she is. Still, I hope she isn’t disappointed and as surprised as I was to learn that retirement communities aren’t that quiet. I suppose different communities have different noise ordinances. Here, anything goes as long as it’s daytime. I could blast the shit out of my music all day long if I wanted to, not that I want to do that. The only time I crank it up is when I’m cleaning or to drown out the landscaping.

Is she rich or something, though? She refuses to tell me how much the place costs and from the looks of it, it looks like a very expensive place to live. How does a couple go from a low-income apartment to that?

I had a dream that she, Larry, and I were all in Hawaii. They were lounging by a pool or something like that when I walked by them in my swimsuit and said I was going to go down to the beach for a swim because I didn’t know if I would get the chance to do it again. They just shrugged as if to say, “Whatever.”

In another dream, I was decorating a backyard that sort of reminded me of the one we had in Phoenix. There were these huge shelves that were kind of shaded and I considered setting up the rats’ cages there.

Then I was sitting at a long table. Andy was to my right and some Indian people (not American Indian) were across from me as well as to my left. I started to explain Indian culture to Andy, and then I stopped and asked one of the other people at the table if it would be okay to tell him what I learned about their culture and they nodded. I don’t remember what the hell it was I told Andy, though.

My parents were alive in the last dream and we were staying in a cabin in the woods. I went for a walk at one point and got lost. The darker it got, the harder it was for me to find my way back and I knew I would have to find a place to rest till morning. A medium-sized white dog with long thick fur approached me and kept me warm for the night. The next morning I found my way back, much to my parents' relief.

Never mind. Tammy just told me they paid 69K for the whole thing, the house is 4 years old, and they pay $160 a month for cable, lawn, and trash.

[3milesup]

as a (mainly post-war because to me, it is there that their relationship truly develops) luztoye shipper, i feel called to answer but i also feel like i’m not too good at this and mine are useless ramblings bsc i’m somehow biased by my own headcanons and rusty from being out of fandom for a while, so feel free to ignore <3 this became longish, so below the cut:

what got me is that they are polar opposites in ways that don’t make them clash. i mean, yes, luz has a loud mouth and toye is grumpy but they’ll get over it with a feeling of fond annoyance at most - which makes for a frizzy, but solid dynamic. because at the core, they have more in common than what meets the eye: they are loyal, damn brave, tough (it is obvious why toye is but let’s imagine for a while being RTO, carrying the heavy-ass radio on your back in combat - being a pretty easy target, for that matter - and having to be able to communicate coherently under a barrage… to me, it takes some guts and balls and there is a lot more to luz than just jokes and impersonations… but this isn’t abt him, this abt the ship, so let’s go back to that^^) and they hold up a pretence

in my mind, luz has much going on under that cheerful cover, understandably so with what they’d been through, and for as much as he might want to make believe he’s over it, he’s so not and he certainly can do with a shoulder to lean on when he inevitably breaks down, with a rational, grounding and unwavering presence by his side (talk about survivor guilt, for instance, but that’s just my hc… but i mean, we totally are on a stretch with luztoye because, well. you’ve seen the show.)

analogically, toye is a lot more fragile that he appears and luz has a way of wrapping that vulnerability in a light banter that conveys he understands and is there for joe, and giving it back intact. which is vital for someone with communication issues and inherent fear of letting go, showing their deepest feelings, needing someone etc.

what happened to joe toye is a hard blow for a man and by extension it is a hard blow for a relationship, under every thinkable aspect; especially a budding, shaping, not yet fully established relationship. take a man whose self-esteem was already staggering, add the difficulties he must have faced upon his return home, and you get a potential disaster.

unless… they work it out.

so, they are all about working out how to communicate, to me. because they can’t, for love of all that’s good and holy, do so by means of straightforward talking. they are all jokes and sulking and silences and too loud laughters - and gestures of love, because in between all that lie the real feelings, all the utmost respect and admiration and attraction…

basically, they are two wrecks that neglect their own issues while giving their all to be there for the other, and hopefully somewhere along the way they understand that they can be there better if they clean up their own mess first but in the meantime, if loving each other is what keeps them alive and going, then so far so good…

i don’t know if this makes it any understandable, i am so sorry if it doesn't and i hope someone more spot-on can lay it out better but... i feel that luztoye is quite an "abstract" ship, really... but they have a certain appeal of deep, deep love based on mutual respect and... and i could rant here forever xd so i tried to make it concise^^ i would sum them up as safe in each other's understanding of their respective pretences and seeing beneath it without tearing them down. anyways, if you have any observations or stuff, i'll love to hear them, or answer^^

does anybody wanna explain luztoye to me… like I see the vision but I just don’t get it yet. But I want to!